Shadows over Nazzri

[Lady Kota]

Kota stood watching everything going on, sitting on the sidelines wasn't ideal for her. She preferred to be in the mist of the fight, however this was her job as the Grand Inquisitor. If it wasn't a major problem she wasn't to jump in, only if the Sith or the force was involved was she to do anything. Even then it had to be an extreme circumstance before she stepped in. So watching what was going on was what she would do as much as she disliked it.

Being quiet didn't really help her mind either, however it helped Captain Vassyl focus on commands. It also helped him forget that she was here, which sometimes was the best thing. When he got his own guards he would have to ignore their presence and continue with his work as if they weren't there. So far he took to this task naturally. Still however if he needed his guards he needed to not be afraid to use them, though she wasn't a regular guard the same rule applied in this situation.

[Shayrina Tarthus]

In the skies, Shayrina could see a long transport heading to the ground in haste. She didn't notice the fighters tailing it- as the skies had turned to chaos.

She could see all other manner of strike craft rising to meet the Imperial fleet. Some were struck down on takeoff.

Shay had seen things go wrong in training before, and she knew some folks who didn't follow safety regs, and lost their lives because of it. This, however was different. She felt a chill reach up her body as she watched as a TIE interceptor group swung down raining fire on a friendly group. Most got airborne, but she watched one x-wing lift- get splashed with several green bolts, spark, pop, and nosedive into the tarmac in a gust of flame.

"Indigo, form up- we're going high. Several enemy fighters spotted easily- bearing eighty-six." Flight lead's voice came in crystal clear through her helmet radio.

Shay was following the lead x-wing with the indigo stripe on its wings as it turned it's nose up- climbing quickly.

"Oh man, I think I just saw one of Green Squadrons get splashed." Another human voice- it was LT 'Zapper' Jyce - Indigo 3. An aggressive pilot but always seemed to fly a little over-eager.

"Looks like we've got some attention. Indigo 3 and 4 keep climbing. 5, with me. We'll get their attention and see if 3 and 4 can get on their tails." The flight lead called to the group. Indigo 4 was Shay's designation. With that, she quickly looked over her right shoulder and indeed saw some non-standard looking craft coming their way. They didn't look like TIEs. Shay's hart beat in her eyes. She remembered to exhale slowly.

"Roger"

That all meant that the other three in their group would be decoys, and the wingmen would need to pick off the tails they picked up. The two lead craft would level out- and Shay and her mate Zapper would climb for several seconds longer before leveling out. Able to see the two X-Wings a good distance in front of them, but further below- She passed a look to Zapper (indigo 3), then looked back to her field of vision.

In the distance- likely in Orbit was that Destroyer, below and ahead she saw plasma flying in several colors. Puffs of orange and gray smoke littered the air.

"Alright, they're on us. Looks like we need to keep it tight- our friends are flying Starwings." Flight lead commented

"I'm fighting lock already" another friendly voice. She watched below as one of the x-wings started to maneuver for defense.

Shay called in and lowered her throttle slightly, "I see you Indigo 5, keep it defensive and I'll shake your tail."

"Alright. I'm going to brake left in two. That'll single 'em out." 5 replied.

Just as he said, Shay saw the x-wing pull a hard left turn, and a single Starwing broke off and followed, zooming up, and rolling over- quickly changing direction- to chase the alliance craft. This was the point that Shay nosed down and gripped her flight stick tight.

Part of her training replayed in hear head subconsciously...
---
Her instructor was a tall, thin man in his fifties- salt and pepper hair, and deep crows feet on the outside of his eyes. He stood at the front of a class of a bunch of green pilots-

“Today is the start of teaching you to take an aircraft as a weapon, and go out, and kill someone with it. That’s a hard thing to think about for some- sometimes."...
---

Her view was great. The enemy fighter was large- full of full panels easily hit when coming from above. She was doing a basic maneuver- but tried and true. A boom and zoom- she was using gravity to pull her ship quickly down as she quickly spun and twisted her A-Wing to be in position incoming on the Starwing. The craft swing into view in front of here- dead center for a split second. She let her cannons fly with red bolts at the flat starwing. Several rounds hit, and were absorbed by the enemy's shields- others went astray. Immediately she yanked her craft into a climb. She knew it wouldn't have been enough to down the ship- but it would take it off her wingmate's tail.

It turned into a hairball after. An x-wing zoomed by her view, followed by a thin smoke trail, and then another Starwing on it's heels.
"Liiiittle help here. Shields are down and i've got a friend." It was Chaz, their flight lead.
Leveling out her craft, bobbing and weaving- she tailed the starwing until a lock was gained.
"I've got you, keep them on their toes." Shay replied quickly.
She kept seeing the x-wing circle and weave around the Starwing's shape up ahead. She was close enough for cannons, but didn't want to risk accidentally tagging her lead ahead. With the lock beeping on her dash, she hammered the missile tube launch- A satisfying thump-hiss as she watched the rocket fly out ahead, and the Starwing immediately broke right to evade the shot.

---
Her old instructor's short spiel finished in her head:
"...Some people might not have thought about that very carefully..." His wise eyes scanned the classroom. "If not- give it some thought. Because that’s the way we go about business.”

It all seemed like a joke, like fatherly advice to a teenager who thought 'I'm never going to be there', or 'It will never be a worry'. To her, so far war had only been a holo- game.
---

She kept having to remind herself to breathe.

"Thanks 4. We've got two more incoming. Back for more?" He again harped on the comms. Shay turned and looked over her shoulder to see that there were two Starwings tailing them. The background was a painting of streamers, with red and green lances bouncing across the sky.

"They don't stop-" Shay quipped- her dash alert began to blink.
"Indigo 4, jink right!" someone barked over the radio- male voice.

Her eyes shot open wide, and she heard the high pitched rattle of the starwings' cannons go off. Enemy plasma lances danced around her as she took immediate evasive action, one shot tagging a stabilizer, though not disabling it. Her lock warning blinked on her dash as she broke, and rolled hard right, evading more incoming fire.

"I'm hit but I'm okay," Shay replied to whoever it was that warned her. Her dash lit up with a damage notification on her right stabilizer just above an engine. Maintaining her circling motion she looked behind her ship, and saw both starwings stick to her like glue- shortly before an x-wing sliced up between them with cannons squeezed. One of the starwings caught fire and went limp in the air- and the other one disengaged.

"Woo, splash one." someone called on the radio, sounded like Zapper."Welcome to the storm, Commander." His x-wing then dropped from above and levelled out in front of Shay's A-Wing.

"Thanks Indigo 2. Everyone listen up. There's an alliance transport up there that needs help, we're gonna clear the way for safe landing. It's got plenty of tails- looks like Interceptors. You bet they're gonna be some of the imperial's better pilots up here right now. It's our job to shoo 'em away. Form up on me."

Everyone gave a succinct 'roger', 'affirmative', or 'yes sir'. The other members of Indigo fell into formation behind their leader, now on site again. The sullustan's x-wing was your average every day fighter, but with a wide indigo stripe from nose to engines. He was their indigo leader. He was hard to miss, even from behind. Plus, he and Zapper were the only ones here with actual combat experience in their flight. They flew with a sort of calm confidence that some of the ballsier rookies lacked.

Their ships didn't encounter much resistance from the other Imperial craft as they swooped up to higher altitude to meet up with the incoming Transport. It was headed toward their base, but had plenty of tails with it.

Looking through her orange-y helmet visor, Shay began to breathe heavily. Excitement. This was more intense than any training she'd ever been exposed to. She had been on several escort missions that went out without a hitch, but she'd been in even more simulations of an escort gone wrong. Train for the worst- hope for the best. But this kind of 'worse' made her stomach drop, and her esophagus tighten- and it wasn't the G forces.

[Neive Undant]

Neive prepared his ship for take-off. He listened to the chatter of the squadron already in battle, his own comm that he donned over the helmet-like mask muted for the moment. He took off, shooting out of the hangar bay and towards the action. The first thing he saw was the transport, a number of interceptors behind it. He opened the channel for the base itself, his distorted voice coming through to the base.
"Delta 112, this is mobius 1-1. focus your fire on those interceptors, get that transport in safely!"
Neive dove down, sending a couple of flailed shots behind the transport. They were sent towards the ground, in case any fighters came back to assist the transport. But with the squadron ahead coming back, Neive got on the indigo channel.
"Indigo squadron, let the AA guns handle the interceptors. They'll get that transport in safely. Focus your attention on the remaining fighters, we need to thin the herd or else they'll overwhelm us with numbers."

He held his tongue as he heard one of them yell splash one...

Trainees, he thought. They're trainees.

"Splash is for artillery fire, 3. Easy mistake."

Neive shot out past the fighters, watching the regular fighters maneuver.

"We're their second priority, pilots. They want to focus on the transport. Let's make ourselves their first."

A group of 3 TIEs moved towards Neive in formation, Neive chuckling.

"Give 'em hell."

He made a quick spin, his ship narrowly passing between them as he fired, one of the engines of the top fighter flying off.

"Scratch one!" Neive called out.

Neive circled around quickly, the formed fighters coming around as 2 missiles fired from Neive's ship, one hitting the center of a fighter's right engine and the other narrowly missing the other fighter, exploding behind.

"Fox 2! That one's going back to the taxpayers..."

Neive evaded a few bolts shot by the TIE before moving past it, looking back.

Then he saw the horde of fighters... like a field of fog on Dathomir, but this was no cloud.

"Indigo squadron, stay together and get back towards the base. We've lost too many already, once that transport is in, we're taking our exit."

another group of X-wings shot towards the base, one of them skimmed by a bolt from a tailing fighter. The X-wing trailed out of the group, one of its back engines struggling to stay operational as the single TIE followed it.

The base opened a hull just big enough for the transport to make its way inside. Too high a speed and it would crash, but too slow and the interceptors would easily pick it off.

This was where the decision came in for the students. Do they go out and help the doomed pilot, or do they follow orders and return to the base?

[Professor Mors]

[Beware that flak!], Frass growled through the comm, [Turn to Mark Five, use the enemy fighters as cover!]. The ground batteries were proving to be a better shot than the Anzat had expected. What's more, the local garrison had not made the Lances journey to the surface simple in the least, and elements of the enemy had even bested the more advanced assault gunboats. As things stood, the Imperial force would fail to retrieve their target, and that would not do. Walkko Frass cared not for failure, not in the sense of fulfilling orders, but rather the wound it was certain to inflict on his pride. Bobbing in and out of unfriendly fire, the Commander's eye alighted on the lithe frame of one particular vicious frame: that of a production-line A-Wing. In moments, this fighter alone had reaped devastation on Frass' companions, and had handily snatched several enemies from the jaws of certain death.

Righting the limber chassis of Black One, the Commander brought his thrusters to three quarters of their maximum output, and barreled towards the nimble fightercraft. His interceptor, though woefully unshielded, was daringly fast. Fast enough for those homely X-Wings, and swift enough to keep pace with their daring counterparts. [Assist the Starwings], Walkko hissed over the line once more, .The other members of the Black Lances unit cringed in light of their leader's usual theatrics, but offered no protest on this particular occasion. Moments thereafter, the Lances' fearless executor sent a grin flying across his face, as he wet his lips in anticipation of a proper duel. Sliding both thumbs over the firing controls, he waiting one second, then two, three, and, upon the fourth, depressed the console setting tied to linked fire. In a furious barrage, continual sets of lime spears came crackling above and below the lone A-Wing, each hellbent on ensuring its ultimate, total destruction.


***


"Helm, tip our nose down by twenty degrees", Doren coolly ordered, his gloved fist seemingly gloved to his chin. "Sir?", a confused Vincent Torbough inquired. "Prepare the missile tubes Lieutenant", Vassyl continued with a dry, subtly irritated tone, "We're going to box in our query and those fighters". "But Sir", the Lieutenant persisted, "Won't that put our own fighters at risk?". "Marginally so Mister Torbough", the Captain snapped back, "Yet it is the enemy that has encircled us, and my single intention is to fire on the outside of their ranks". It was a risky gambit, but it was the best plan Doren could produce in the moment. This was getting out of hand fast, and the Imperials needed to make their exit before any neighboring fleets had time to act. Vassyl took no pleasure in considering added causalities as a result of his orders, yet if he did nothing, the melee would continue into a stalemate. "Contact all wings on our encrypted channel", Doren added with an air of finality, "Prepare for ship to ship bombardment".

OOC: Not sure why this last half ended up in italics, ah well~

[Rhoden Carbine]

Rhoden switched over his comm, "You've got the edge in experience, training, and tech. Why aren't they dead?" He pulled his TIE Phantom into a rapid barrel roll, sending a spiraling torrent of fire into an enemy fighter which vanished. "We've not fought anyone who actually had a chance to shoot back in a while, we're rusty." the Starwing captain responded, his tone light but clipped. "We lost Three. I think we'll settle for immediate vengeance, send her off properly." The comm clicked and the Starwings blazed forth with renewed vigor, missiles flew forward and flashed against shield, followed immediately by deadly precise fire from laser and ion cannons. Rhoden saw to ships dissapear in flashes, and another begin a slow descent, disabled by ion cannons. Not to be outdone the Phantoms launched immediately into their own exercise of superior flying, earning their place as the best the Empire had to offer.

Rhoden heard a cutoff scream from the Interceptor's frequency and brought his fighter around sharply, veering through the disintegrating debris of his latest victim and saw it. A Trilon Aggressor. "Dot, match markings to record Omega 13." he snapped. Dot, located just above and behind Rhoden in the cockpit made a trilling noise and an affirmative beep. "We've got pilots who can actually fly coming in, move to protect the Interceptors." the Phantoms veered and immediately set to blazing a path through the enemy fighters, whether by maneuvering around them with superior speed, or blasting them out of the sky. The Starwings peeled off and engaged any hostiles left at their rear.

Rhoden made it through first, "Come on, shoot at me, shoot at me, you remember us, eh?" he said muttering to himself. He hoped the enemy would harbor a grudge for the Inferno's, certainly he couldn't fail to notice the highly unique markings on all their units. Sleek black with distinct red markings and logos.

[Zechs Merquise]

Zechs rolled onto his side and adjusted his cover. There was a chill in air. His stomach nibbled at his insides trying to stir him up to grab a mid-local day snack. He resisted and let a quick shot of cold air into his lungs sooth nothing.

Peace and quiet was divine. The civilian guest quarters were best at that. The barrack’s banks always used the worst springs and packing. The soldiers deserved better. They deserved a good nights rest if they were going to have to go out there and deal with some pompous Imperial bootlicker.

The fireworks out the viewport wasn’t making anything easier, but that was what the second pillow was for. Zechs propped it up as a blast shield to the exuberant celebrations that couldn’t wait till he left. Some people couldn’t catch a clue if you tattooed it on their eyelid. Not that those people would be able to see it. Yeah, that didn’t make sense, but he was only a third awake.

[Lady Kota]

Things seemed to be going well from where the Grand Inquisitor stood. She could see the battle raging from the viewport. However she wished she had her power, sometime her senses could see something that radars simply couldn't. This was her job though in this battle no matter how much she didn't like the assignment.

Unless there was some major force users or an extreme reason, she was simply to watch and stand by the captain. She wasn't to get in his way or volunteer to help out with the battle. It was a job a regular guard should do, but Doren was not yet of rank to have his own and she had no pressing assignment yo deal with so this was her task.

[Shayrina Tarthus]

The sullustan's radio crackled on his command channel-
"Indigo squadron, stay together and get back towards the base. We've lost too many already, once that transport is in, we're taking our exit."

The voice wasn't recognizable, but he was on the command channel, so it means he must at least be a baseline team leader. It didn't sound like any of the Captains he knew that he fell under.

Remn replied with a quick ["This is Commander Remn: That's a negative. Indigo is to head straight for the transport for an escort. AA can handle the fighters, Indigo will is to engage the more nimble interceptors."] He had no need to explain himself. He knew that if the Alliance could swat away the imperial presence, they wouldn't stick around. They were in enemy territory with a small force, and likely wouldn't have the time to stick around and siege the planet with an orbital bombardment. Remn then radioed over to another of the squadrons for support around them. They'd need it against the incoming phantoms on top of those interceptors.

He swapped channels back to the squadron- ["Stick together and we won't have anything to worry about. Looks like we've got interceptors incoming. King an eye on your wingmen. Defensive maneuvers-"]

The Transport was just ahead now- a large frame. They'd need to clear opposition while their squadron counterparts below attempted to clear the rest of the TIEs.

Shay watched as a flight of black fighters zip by overhead, and then tried to stay on their commander ahead- braking hard and lifting. 'Phantoms?!' She gasped to herself, but didn't have much time to do anything before she herself took incoming fire.

["That's right. We've got aces incoming."] a fast quip from the commander- ["Zapper and Chaz, you're with me. King and indigo 3 keep 'em busy."] His craft nosed to the sky, as did the other two x-wings. They immediately took fire, and comms went a little louder with chatter.

Shay took her A-Wing and broke right and also began to take fire- and lots of it. Growling to herself as she gripped her stick, green was all around her, and she heard two loud 'thumps', after her dash began flashing like fireworks.

["Taking fire. Disengaging."] She barked over her radio. Not a panic- but definitely urgency.

["I got you - Swinging in to intercept-"] replied 'King', the twi'lek pilot in the X-Wing nearby. Though as he pulled a wing-over, he took more fire as well. Compromised.


The transport had about reached a bubble of safety that the AA guns would provide. Indigo's hairball was swarming around the transport.


Shay continued taking defensive maneuvers, those burning green bolts igniting her canopy. All around their airspace were zipping starfighters, and plasma bolts everywhere.

The A-Wing began flying around the transport trying to create some space between her and her new pursuer. The pilot behind her wouldn't shake. Groaning to herself she kept peeking behind her- keeping her A-Wing swinging, and weaving, evading fire. This guy was better than she was. He stuck right to her as they went through rollers. Though as they were about to pull out of this maneuver- she cut her throttle, and broke hard to the side. She was trying to encourage her pursuer to overshoot her so she could swing up and position herself behind her enemy- the nimble interceptor. At least get him the hell of her tail. She was sweating and didn't realize it.

All the while, she dreaded hearing some incoming transmissions- though the comms were pretty jumbled with fight chatter.

[Neive Undant]

Neive sighed as he got his reply. Although he was a commander of the squad, Neive supposed he didn't realize who he spoke to. He quickly shot out and got behind the TIE that pursued the damaged fighter, shooting it down after a moment before joining back over the transport.
Then, he saw the insignia. The ship that he had met only once before, but that caused so much death in the past.
Neive quickly changed channels.

"Delta 112, keep your fire on any pursuers. But if you can find a clear shot of that assault vessel, open fire. Just keep those fighters off that friendly!"

As Neive spoke, the transport entered AA range.

Neive came back, disengaging the voice distortion device in the helmet. Now his voice was his own in the comm channel.

"Indigo squadron, this is Mobius 1-1. AA guns are in range, disengage and get landed, we're getting out of here."

Neive again switched channels for a moment,

"Friendly ghost, this is Mobius 1-1. Slow for landing, the AA guns will keep the Imperials off you."

Neive came back to indigo's channel, listening in to ensure they're listening. But then he saw the incoming fire, headed straight for the A-wing.

Neive cut back and shot across the A-wing, the top of his ship taking the two green bolts. He quickly disengaged his thrusters, his ship hurdling towards the ground as a small metal device shot out, hitting and latching onto inferno's transport. With that, Neive engaged thrusters again and caught back up, his aggressor slightly worse for wear.

"I'm scratched, but I'm alright. Get to base, the shield should keep fire off of you while you get landed and get evacuated. Me and the AA guns will get the transport in."

The transport slowed, Neive's ship slowing and the cockpit opening as soon as he and the transport got through the shield. He held his hand out, and the transport opened one of the doors and tossed him a small data chip. He took it and nodded, jumping back into his ship and plugging it into his ship.

"There... just what I needed."

He nodded to the soldier before the transport moved towards the base again, and Neive cut off and circled the main watchtower of the base, waiting for the imperials' move.

[Professor Mors]

"Missile tubes one through ten are primed and ready Sir", a weapons tech brusquely announced, "Begin calculating attack vectors and funnel auxiliary power to the deflector shield", Doren snapped back coolly, his gaze transfixed on a holofeed of the Reverent and the multitudes of fighters bustling beneath and beside it, "Fire on my command". The majority of eyes fell on the Captain, and those that avoided him were otherwise occupied with a similar, or identical view of the skirmish. The seconds trickled by, quickly at first, and then slower, as slow as was seemingly possible. A single bead of sweat blossomed on Vassyl's chin, and ran like molasses as the weapons officers railed off figures for the missile trajectory. Bold red lines appeared on the display, indicated the arc across which each lethal payload would travel. Doren stood completely still, intensely scanning for just the right angle. "Mark five, mark six, mark seven", a technician methodically droned, before Vassyl's brow alighted, and he interposed, "Fire!".


***

[Commander!], a voice bellowed over Frass' commline, [We have our orders, you need to pull back!]. Walkko offered something betwixt a growl and a pitchy hiss in response, and glared down his sights at the lone A-Wing and its companions. He was so close, so close to securing a worthy victory. Nonetheless, even the aged Anzat could not hope to overcome the missiles that were to be unleashed. Frass gave one final glance to his sought after prey, and then at the wavering freighter that had spawned this mess. With a sneer, he performed a nauseating sharp u-turn, and gunned Black One's engines at top speed. As he traveled back towards the underbelly of the Star Destroyer, Walkko observed the conic warheads streaming out like lightning towards their targets, and erupting into red-orange wave. So much for his services, and any chance of satisfaction.