Post by Ghev Dralin on Apr 26, 2011 9:42:57 GMT -5
"Call it in" Kane said to the pilot, his eyes fixed on the viewport and the mess that lay beyond. Framed in the swirling mass of a distant nebula was a cacophony of wreckage, a veritable graveyard of vessels of all shapes and sizes. Something had gone wrong here, terribly wrong, and judging by the number of dormant ships on the scope, both sides had taken massive casualties.
"It's like a kriffing cemetery out there" the pilot sighed, gloved fingers working over the comm as he relayed their findings back to their temporary base at Acherin.
"Yeah" Kane muttered, committing no further thought to the discussion. He was here to lead, and even at the best of times he wasn't good at letting people in. Right now though... right now, he was looking at the aftermath and the final fate of many of his friends and family, and their decision to launch an all-out attack on the hated Iskalloni.
Thankfully, an all-out attack didn't mean committing every man, fighter and cruiser to one battle, since Mand'alor Ghev Dralin had forbidden it. Those that had participated in this particular catastrophe had done so of their own accord, without sanction from Dralin or his improvised war council.
"It's called. Command wants us to sweep the area for survivors" the pilot informed him.
"Command can suck my extremities" Kane huffed. "We do one quick scout, then return to Acherin" he ordered, clapping the pilot on the shoulder and returning to aft.
Running on silent, the Tra'kad assault vessel, one of five in the squadron, ambled through the debris, strewn across space like the innards of some rotting titan. While collision was a problem for the Tra'kad, its escort of Bes'uliik and Gladiator-class assault fighters were able to zip through tighter spaces and recon the area much quicker. Kane was glad of that fact, for the longer he remained here, the more chilled he felt.
"Unusual readings in sector 4-A" one of the Bes'uliik pilots said over the comm, his voice playing on loudspeaker throughout the Tra'kad.
"This whole mess is full of unusual readings" another pilot replied.
"Yeah, but this is... different. Instruction?"
"Investigate" Kane sighed. He'd hoped for nothing out of the ordinary, but apparently it wasn't to be. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy doing what he did; he was a sworn fighter, a proud Mandalorian, and an example to the men he led and represented in Ghev Dralin's war council, but something about this mission was giving him the creeps. It was all he could do for morale to keep his thoughts private, though he could tell others were feeling the same; they all wanted to get away from here.
Minutes passed in silence, as the scout patrol moved beyond comm range. Kane busied himself recalibrating one of the rear cannon relays, while the four other Mandalorians remained stationed at their turret controls, incase of emergency.
"Tra'kad Five, mark my position and prepare to intercept" a frantic voice suddenly called through the comm loudspeaker. "Repeat, Tra'kad Five, mark my position and prepare to intercept".
"What is it, Ronan?" Kane said into the comm, in a calm but strict tone; the signal was hazy, and low rumblings and cannon fire could be heard overlapping the feed.
"Actives, sir, and lots of them!" the Tra'kad pilot called in response. Kane shouldered his way into the cockpit, in time to see the scout patrol weaving its way through the debris while executing evasive patterns, fire-yellow laserfire peppering space in their wake.
"Forty-five degrees starboard and prepare to open fire" Kane ordered the pilots of each Tra'kad in the squadron. "Set navicoms for immediate jump once the patrol is clear" he added under his breath.
"Sir!" the pilot affirmed, and the ship lurched, lumbering into position to best cover for the fleeing patrol.
The first of the scout fighters overshot the Tra'kad squadron, trailing vapour and snap-rolling to avoid being hit. Two more fighters followed closely behind, and suddenly a cloud of Iskalloni ships swarmed from out of the ship graveyard, met with a hail of criss-crossing fire from the Tra'kad squadron, a near-impenetrable barrier of laserfire which caused the onrushing fighters to split into two groups and peel back the way they came to re-think their attack vector.
"Is that it?" Kane asked incredulously; he'd been expecting more to return.
"Sensors show massive activity within the debris field" the pilot relayed. "At least a couple of hundred fighters, and... by the stars..."
"What?" Kane snapped, checking the read-outs for himself. "What am I looking at?" he asked, colour draining from his face.
"I'm... not sure, but its big..." the pilot stammered.
Kane reset the scope display, but it showed exactly the same thing; a mass bulk of Iskalloni fighters, fleeing from some shadow which dominated the entire upper hemisphere of the screen. No, not fleeing from it...
"All hands, cease fire" he roared into the comm. Whatever it was they were faced with, he suspected it was the same thing that had taken out every ship currently residing in the debris field. If it could do that much damage, then a few Tra'kad would be small prey for it. "Prep jump co-ordinates and return to base. Repeat..."
The comm crackled with a resounding scream, which was suddenly cut short and returned to static.
"Sir, the Iskalloni wrecks... they're returning to full power" the panicked pilot reported.
"What?!" Kane despaired. A glance out of the viewport confirmed the pilot's words, as lumbering cruisers about-faced and began forming up, belching blue gases into space while their weapons and life-support returned online. One of them had evidently fired some sort of weapon at one of the Tra'kad, which was now being pulled in, still crackling with yellow lightning as though stunned by an ion beam of some sort.
"We can't leave them..." one of the captains protested over the comm.
"Yes we can" Kane retorted, without thinking. Two of his men turned their helmeted heads his way in shock, but a steely glance turned them away again. "We need to return to base and mount some sort of strategy. This war is being fought on too many fronts already, we should sacrifice this one before we're taken out of the fight".
Without further argument, Kane took his place in the co-pilots chair, retreating to the confines of his helmet, while space beyond stretched into infinity and the hellish graveyard was left far behind.
"It's like a kriffing cemetery out there" the pilot sighed, gloved fingers working over the comm as he relayed their findings back to their temporary base at Acherin.
"Yeah" Kane muttered, committing no further thought to the discussion. He was here to lead, and even at the best of times he wasn't good at letting people in. Right now though... right now, he was looking at the aftermath and the final fate of many of his friends and family, and their decision to launch an all-out attack on the hated Iskalloni.
Thankfully, an all-out attack didn't mean committing every man, fighter and cruiser to one battle, since Mand'alor Ghev Dralin had forbidden it. Those that had participated in this particular catastrophe had done so of their own accord, without sanction from Dralin or his improvised war council.
"It's called. Command wants us to sweep the area for survivors" the pilot informed him.
"Command can suck my extremities" Kane huffed. "We do one quick scout, then return to Acherin" he ordered, clapping the pilot on the shoulder and returning to aft.
Running on silent, the Tra'kad assault vessel, one of five in the squadron, ambled through the debris, strewn across space like the innards of some rotting titan. While collision was a problem for the Tra'kad, its escort of Bes'uliik and Gladiator-class assault fighters were able to zip through tighter spaces and recon the area much quicker. Kane was glad of that fact, for the longer he remained here, the more chilled he felt.
"Unusual readings in sector 4-A" one of the Bes'uliik pilots said over the comm, his voice playing on loudspeaker throughout the Tra'kad.
"This whole mess is full of unusual readings" another pilot replied.
"Yeah, but this is... different. Instruction?"
"Investigate" Kane sighed. He'd hoped for nothing out of the ordinary, but apparently it wasn't to be. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy doing what he did; he was a sworn fighter, a proud Mandalorian, and an example to the men he led and represented in Ghev Dralin's war council, but something about this mission was giving him the creeps. It was all he could do for morale to keep his thoughts private, though he could tell others were feeling the same; they all wanted to get away from here.
Minutes passed in silence, as the scout patrol moved beyond comm range. Kane busied himself recalibrating one of the rear cannon relays, while the four other Mandalorians remained stationed at their turret controls, incase of emergency.
"Tra'kad Five, mark my position and prepare to intercept" a frantic voice suddenly called through the comm loudspeaker. "Repeat, Tra'kad Five, mark my position and prepare to intercept".
"What is it, Ronan?" Kane said into the comm, in a calm but strict tone; the signal was hazy, and low rumblings and cannon fire could be heard overlapping the feed.
"Actives, sir, and lots of them!" the Tra'kad pilot called in response. Kane shouldered his way into the cockpit, in time to see the scout patrol weaving its way through the debris while executing evasive patterns, fire-yellow laserfire peppering space in their wake.
"Forty-five degrees starboard and prepare to open fire" Kane ordered the pilots of each Tra'kad in the squadron. "Set navicoms for immediate jump once the patrol is clear" he added under his breath.
"Sir!" the pilot affirmed, and the ship lurched, lumbering into position to best cover for the fleeing patrol.
The first of the scout fighters overshot the Tra'kad squadron, trailing vapour and snap-rolling to avoid being hit. Two more fighters followed closely behind, and suddenly a cloud of Iskalloni ships swarmed from out of the ship graveyard, met with a hail of criss-crossing fire from the Tra'kad squadron, a near-impenetrable barrier of laserfire which caused the onrushing fighters to split into two groups and peel back the way they came to re-think their attack vector.
"Is that it?" Kane asked incredulously; he'd been expecting more to return.
"Sensors show massive activity within the debris field" the pilot relayed. "At least a couple of hundred fighters, and... by the stars..."
"What?" Kane snapped, checking the read-outs for himself. "What am I looking at?" he asked, colour draining from his face.
"I'm... not sure, but its big..." the pilot stammered.
Kane reset the scope display, but it showed exactly the same thing; a mass bulk of Iskalloni fighters, fleeing from some shadow which dominated the entire upper hemisphere of the screen. No, not fleeing from it...
"All hands, cease fire" he roared into the comm. Whatever it was they were faced with, he suspected it was the same thing that had taken out every ship currently residing in the debris field. If it could do that much damage, then a few Tra'kad would be small prey for it. "Prep jump co-ordinates and return to base. Repeat..."
The comm crackled with a resounding scream, which was suddenly cut short and returned to static.
"Sir, the Iskalloni wrecks... they're returning to full power" the panicked pilot reported.
"What?!" Kane despaired. A glance out of the viewport confirmed the pilot's words, as lumbering cruisers about-faced and began forming up, belching blue gases into space while their weapons and life-support returned online. One of them had evidently fired some sort of weapon at one of the Tra'kad, which was now being pulled in, still crackling with yellow lightning as though stunned by an ion beam of some sort.
"We can't leave them..." one of the captains protested over the comm.
"Yes we can" Kane retorted, without thinking. Two of his men turned their helmeted heads his way in shock, but a steely glance turned them away again. "We need to return to base and mount some sort of strategy. This war is being fought on too many fronts already, we should sacrifice this one before we're taken out of the fight".
Without further argument, Kane took his place in the co-pilots chair, retreating to the confines of his helmet, while space beyond stretched into infinity and the hellish graveyard was left far behind.