| Dorkir? I hardly knew 'er! |
| Summary: | A hastily assembled strike package engages a Kilrathi convoy. |
| Date: | 2658.140 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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Space is big, space is dark, you still can't find a place to park. Thankfully, finding a Kilrathi convoy is another matter entirely. Which probably explains why there are three fighters making their way along towards a lovely designated point out in the middle of nowhere. After all, if the Kilrathi are bringing in transports, that means they plan on being here for the long haul. And that is not good news.
«Alright, we're coming up on the coordinates the patrol flight relayed. Should be somewhere around here » Cole explains to his wing, the bare silver durasteel of his Broadsword reflecting the distant light of Junction's star. « Remember, we're after the transports. If they've got heavy escort that looks like it's going to be a problem, I'll pop 'em. But for you two, the transports are our priority. »
«Copy that, Lead. Keeping my eyes and ears open for them.» Kanani states as her attention turns towards her scanners, seeing what tale they might tell her.
«Roger Lead, Iceblade out.» Iceblade confirms his orders as he maintains formation with the 'sword and Stiletto.
And sure enough, waiting at the projected position are a half-dozen Kilrathi transports, escorted by a pair of Kamekh corvettes and a small contingent of fighters. Apparently, the Kilrathi weren't taking any chances with this bunch. The powerful sensors of the Corvettes spot the incoming Confederation craft quickly enough, four escort fighters breaking away from the convoy and closing in on the Confederation ships.
« Heads up Tsunami, Iceblade. Looks like we've got company. Remember, we're not here to stick around and dogfight. Straight through the escorts, then get on those transports! » Cole orders. He doesn't exactly charge in, but then… broadswords really aren't the sort of thing to go racing in anywhere.
«I see them, Voodoo. Going after the transports, now.» Kanani states as her Stiletto does in fact charge in, trying to do some damage quickly, as her fighter starts to speed up.
Iceblade quickly comms, «Roger that lead, burning start at the transports.» Iceblade then starts punching his burners and readys his IR missiles.'
«Lead, Tizona, copy that. Going to guns.» Paz replies tersely as she jukes her Rapier into position to make a strafing run on one of the Dralthi.
The distance between the two wings of fighters rapidly closes, the Dralthi screaming in on afterburner to engage the Confederation craft as far out as possible… the Kilrathi transports moving to turn away from the fight, to put a little extra space between themselves and the oncoming assault. One of the two Kamekh turns in as well, lumbering to the rear of the convoy, placing itself between the Confederation fighters and the vulnerable transport craft.
« Remember, we're not here for the Dralthi. » Cole reminds the wing. « Straight through 'em, and on to the important targets » he adds, idly toggling his selector switch to missiles and pointing his nose straight for the lead Dralthi. He'll teach the Kilrathi to play chicken with a Broadsword.
«Copy, that. Just gonna say hello on the way past.» Kanani states as her mass drivers open up on the fighter headed in her direction.
Seeing the Dralthi bearing for them, Iceblade quickly switches to FoF and begins evading the incoming shots from one of the Dralthi while still attempting to barrel past it. «Roger Lead, pushing through the fighter screen.»
«Copy that, Lead. Lemme just give Mi pequeo amigo a kiss on the way in.» Paz grins malevolently, lining up the pipper on the incoming Dralthi's cockpit and squeezing the trigger.
The two wings of fighters streak past each other, exchanging a volley of weapons fire… pieces shed on both ends of the fight, though everything seems to survive intact. The closing Confederation fighters continue to gain on the retreating convoy… even as the nearer corvette's flak batteries reach out toward the Confederation craft. The far corvette turns in as well, slowly moving into position to bring its guns to bear.
« Get on those 'sports » Cole calls, turning his broadsword in towards the Kamekh. « I'm gonna drop this Corvette, before it's the death of us all » he informs them simply, flicking his selector switch to torpedo and beginning a run in at the Kilrathi warship.
As Iceblade's Rapier flys past the Dralthis, his FF missile makes contact with one gunning for him. Looking back briefly however, Iceblade notices that the Dralthi seems mostly unaffected by the hit. Iceblade now focuses his next FF on one of the transports as he evades his way past the corvettes whose flak ring his ship just got in range of. «God, I hate corvettes in the simulator, but I bet these are far worse.»
"Dammit, you little shitstain." Paz growls as the Dralthi's guns reach out and give her wing the kind of tender caress that only machine guns can give. Quickly, she checks her status board and, satisfied that she's not about to blow up, she goes for for her Image Recognition missiles, aiming them square at the first transport's massive engines before her threat recievers light up like a Christmas tree as the first of the big escorts targets her. "Dammit!" she growls and flings her Rapier into a series of wild, evasive gyrations.
Kanani makes her speedy way past the attacking Dralthi, and heads towards one of the Transports, switching to missiles as she makes her approach. «Copy that Voodoo. Good luck.» Shortly after those words, she launches her missile, and states. «Fox Two!»
To say the second exchange of fire is more eventful than the first might be the understatement of the year. A torpedo slams into the bridge of the lead Kamekh, tearing an ugly crater in the corvette's hull… though somehow, the craft manages to keep flying. The Kilrathi fighters swarming Cole's bomber miss, and off in the distance one of the transports explodes as Kanani's missile screams into its engines. It's not all good news for the Confederation, however, as surprisingly accurate fire from one of the transports explodes immediately in front of Paz' cockpit.
« Coming around. Seems I've picked up a couple friends » Cole comments, his broadsword weaving its way through the four Dralthi behind it, moving in for a second attack run on the wounded corvette. Not about to let it get away from him this time.
Iceblade manuevers through the flak almost like swam and remains completely unsctrached, unfortunately his FF was blown to bits by the flak seconds after launching. «Blast, switching to IR,» Iceblade comms as he flys past his transport. As he comes about, he sees another transport explode from weapon's fire and a well placed missile by a little Stiletto. «Hey, nice shot Tsuanmi,» Iceblade comms as he begins to barrel down on his own transport again, this time launching an Imrec.
«Oh yeah. That's how you missiles are supposed to work.» Kanani states as the Transport she was firing on, explodes all nice and pretty like. As she manuvers around for a shot on another transport, she notices the hits that Paz takes and takes a second to radio. «Tizona, Tsunami. Are you alright there?» She queries, before she makes her second run. «Fox two, once again.»
It's funny, the little part of Paz's mind that's still calm and collected while her Rapier's cockpit seems disintegrate around her, how suddenly shit can just go _wrong_. Spitting out flares and chaff bundles to try and blind the transport's lock-on, the young Latina fireball made an almost textbook approach, fully confident of putting her Image Rec missile right into the center engine bell of the big transports. And then, well, as the man said, shit just _happened_. Suddenly, her cockpit is riddled with holes as a flak burst goes off right in front of her. Two needles of fire lace through her neck, which quickly begins to bleed copiously. The attack completely knocks her avionics package out and leaves her tumbling ass over tea kettle while she frantically struggles with the controls with one hand and her on board first aid kit with the other.
For those keeping score at home, the answer to 'how many torpedoes does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a Kamekh' is, for today, apparently two. The Corvette explodes in a shower of durasteel, but not before its gunners rip a few ugly chunks from the front end of Cole's broadsword. A second transport detonates in a flash, this one hit by Phillip's missile. Somehow, in all the insanity, Paz' battered Rapier is spared.
« One down. Moving in on the other » Cole comments simply as he swings his broadsword's damaged front end around towards the second of the Kilrathi escorts. « See if I can take this one out before this gets ugly. Tizona, return to base. You're not doing anyone any favors by staying out and getting killed »
«Nice shooting, Iceblade and Voodoo, you guys still doing alright?» Kanani asks over the comms as she tries to finish off the transport she failed to put away with her previous missile. As she tries to avoid all the flak headed her way, she releases her final heat seeker stating, «Fox two, and that's the last of my missiles, lead.»
Nothing prevents effective communication more than a mouthful of blood. Paz discovers this as she copies Cole's transmission and attempts to speak, the aforementioned substance oozing out of her mouth at what feels is a rather alarming rate. Quickly, or as quickly as she can what with both the pain of her injuries and the attendant shock starting to kick in, Paz pulls her Rapier into a painfully lazy arc and makes for the jump point. Repeat after the Paz, 'Our Father, Who Art in Heaven…'…
As Iceblade goes in for the transport's engines, the Rapier's shields falter, and Iceblade has to make a few last-second dodges to avoid serious damage but it throws off his shot for the engines. «Fox one, you fucking Kat» Iceblade comms as quickly launches his missile, which heads straight for the side of the transport. The missile causes serious damage and multiple secondary explosions as Phillip flys over it. Iceblade glances back to see one final and brillant flash as the transport is erradicated from existance. «That one's for Michael, you fithly flea bags.» Unfortunately, just the past the transport is the flak ring of the corvette, last minute evading saves Iceblade from serious damage, but Iceblade still takes some nasty hits. Lucky for Ice, the flak soon stops with a nice torpedo hit by Cole. «Nice shot, Lead.» Iceblade comms as pulls his fighter around for a run at another transport. «Say goodnight kitty.» Iceblade taunts with an evil grin.
And suddenly, things start to go all sorts of ugly for the Confederation fighters… a multitude of shots scoring impacts across the various craft, with little to show for the Confed side of the party.
« All craft, return to base » Cole orders the flight. « Break and return. We've done what we can here. » Cole orders, swinging his battered broadsword around for a run to get that last torpedo of his in. « I'll keep them distracted. »
Behold, the power of prayer! Paz's silent incantations to her Heavenly Father seem to result in her escaping the last barrage by the other secort unscathed. Of course, now she's got a whole new series of problems to deal with. Like how to put her bird back on the Majestic while semi-conscious and unable to communicate with flight control. Some days just keep improving.
«Roger, that Voodoo.» Kanani states somewhat more calmly than she probably should be, at the moment, with her fighter just getting shot up a bit. She sees a juicy damaged transport nearby, but elects to follow orders instead. Pulling her Stiletto out of the fight, and hitting the burners. «Don't get yourself shot up sir.»
Iceblade takes some more flak as he barrels at the next transport. He's his second imrec, which succesfully hits the 'sport but not enought to kill hit. «Damn you kitty.» Iceblade pulls a tight turn and begins to ready his last FF to finish the transport off, but he hears the RTB orders. Iceblade turns his bird upwards and begins an all out burn right past the transport. He goes evasion as he comes into the flak range of the second corvette.
Once fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish… or in this case, it's the highly explosive sort of fish that slams into the Kilrathi corvette, splitting it rather neatly in half. If such a thing can really be called 'neat'.
« Take that, you bastards » Cole grumbles into his helmet, bringing his broadsword around… spotting that crippled transport. Is this the point where he really /should/ withdraw? Absolutely. But, apparently some temptations are just too much to pass up… and there really isn't a reason to leave the kittens with another, is there? Which is why, his torpedoes expended, Cole toggles his last missile and lobs it over. So much for discretion being the better part of valor.
«I'm clear, I think.» Kanani states as the high powered engines of the Stiletto fling her out of the range of the cat's weapons, at speeds approaching R17. Once she's put some distance between her and the guns, she throttles down enough, to stick with Phillip's Rapier, and wait's for the fearless leader of this mission to get back as well.
As Iceblade reaches his wing and is nearly out of the combat zone, he looks back to see Cole wax the corvette, but instead of rejoining, he turns on the severely damaged transport. A debate now rages inside him, return and help Cole fend off the Dralthi and potently end up with both of them dead or stay with his wing and escort his damaged friends home. He decides, «Lead, this is Ice. I understand what you are doing sir, and I wish you the best of luck. If Kanani were in better shape, I'd be right there with you keeping those Dralthi off your back, but Tiz and Tsunami are too banged and need an escort back to base. Don't stay out too long, sir. Iceblade out.» Iceblade cuts the link.
It would have been a great plan, if only the missile had hit the target. As it is, the situation turns instead to Cole's Broadsword frantically maneuvering between shots from four dralthi and a transport's flak turret, the friend or foe missile flying horribly wide of its target.
« Right, mates » Cole comments over open comms, speaking to the Kilrathi it seems. « Been a lovely game, but I'm getting tired of playing. My best to the Emperor. Tell him I'll see him soon. » he adds with an amused chuckle, finally turning his broadsword away from the convoy. He'll have to be content with the damage that he's done.
And well, luck had to run out sooner or later. Four missiles explode in close proximity to the fleeing Broadsword, sending a shower of fragments through the craft. Leaving it probably easier to pick out the pieces that aren't hit than the ones that are. His comms flick on a mess of static for a moment, before clearing into at least an only moderately fuzzy image of a wincing Captain. « Voodoo's hit. But, still in one piece » Cole comments as what's left of his broadsword limps its way away from the convoy. « My long range comms are shot. Call back to the carrier, and see if we can't get a second strike out here »
«Jeeze, you alright, there Voodoo? And hold on a sec, I'll take care of it.» Kanani comments before she starts to fiddle with her radio, and sends a call towards the Majestic. «Control, this is Tsunami. Our strike didn't go quite as well as planned, so if you could send out another team to finish them off, it'd be helpful. Both their big escorts are gone though, and one of the 'sports is nearly dead.» She pauses for a moment, before finishing, «Four slightly banged up Dralthi are with them, too.» She figures the more info the Boat has, the better they'll finish things off.
Phillip sees the carnage as 4 Dralthi lay into Cole with a heatseeker apiece. Each ripping the Pigsword apart faster than pork at a Weight Watchers convention. As Cole pulls his fighter back into formation, Iceblade comms, «Geez sir, that was a very bad idea. You really are insane.» Iceblade then directs his comm over to the Lead position fighter flown by Kanani, «Oh Tsunami, how are your comms? Do you want to radio this in or shall I?»
Being unable to reply and just barely conscious enough to maintain anything approaching proper flight attitude, Paz struggles as she triggers the remainder of her flares to signal SOS.
It might be a good sign just how badly things have gone inside the cockpit of that broadsword, when the response that comes from Cole's fighter is the somewhat less than professional analysis of « Kanani, I look like shit and feel worse ». Things hurt a whole lot more once the adrenaline starts to wear off.
«Say Tsu, can you see into Tiz's cockpit? How bad off is she, I'm getting no response.» Iceblade comms to the lead fighter.
«I think you're going to need to get used to hospital food for a while, from the way it sounds, sir.» Kanani comments, shaking her head and trying not to add any more dumb comments. Her fighter rolls around to get a better look at Paz's ship, and she answers Phil's question as best she can. «Not sure, but doesn't look very good. The cockpit's got a bunch of little holes that I can see, but I'm not totally sure if she's conscious or out of it at the moment.»
Phillip lands his fighter, quickly exits as fast as is possible and lets the tech crews quickly move it out of the way, so that the deck is clear for Paz to land. Phillip looks on and watches as out of the way as possible.
How do you land a broadsword that's absorbed four heat seekers, two mass driver volleys, and a scattering of flak? Very much in the same way you land a brick. You drop it and hope for the best. Which probably explains the ungaindly thud-thud-thunk sort of landing that comes from Cole's bomber landing on its belly, scraping across the flight deck with the most lovely metal-on-metal squealing sound.
Rapier 1087FS-6 comes screaming onto the deck, bobbing, weaving, waggling and basically misbehaving as it's severely wounded pilot attempts to put her bird down on friendly steel. Control radios corrections to her, and the pilot makes the best corrections she can before her bird tries to trap, skidding mightily amid a shower of sparks as it bolters at the last moment. The bird's engines begin to srcream in protest as they're thrown into full reverse, bringing the fighter down within less than a meter of the barrier. As for it's pilot, Paz simply slumps forward in her cockpit as she fumbles for the shutdown switches, finally passing out.
