RPlog:Triumphant Return or Maybe Not

The experimental Imperial Victory-class Star Destroyer's engines screamed as it jumped to hyperspace. It took far too long, and things looked weird out the viewport of the bridge. The skeleton tech crew cringed and yelled, but there was nothing for it. Kyrin had had to lock them in the brig. She couldn't trust them. Using her absolute control of the ship via the manual controls, she locks everyone else out of things as best she can... the techs could probably hack their way back in eventually. The two guards and the shuttle pilots in the hangar bay are trapped within by the blast doors that slam shut before they could replicate Luke Skywalker's skimming of a ship through them, only in reverse. When Kyrin wearily pads back up to the bridge, she listens to a chiming. Oh. Yes. Hopping down into the workpit, she looks for the correct panel and hits the controls for getting the ship out of hyperspace and settled in at full stop. Clambering out of the workpit, she looks around in despair. The Deep Core. Her wings slump as she considers her plight.

It took every ounce of verbal persuasion he had at his command, but Brandis finally managed to convince Luke that he had the best chance of finding Kyrin, wherever she might be. It took some serious finagling and some fancy moves that he hadn't previously known he was capable of to avoid the blockade around Coruscant to leave the planet in search of the woman he'd chosen to tie his heart to. Now, however, he sits at a common jump point, a dangerous situation to remain in for long, while he makes the attempt to determine through the Force which way she has lost herself. He loses himself to the Force, searching for the guidance he needs to find her.

Kyrin's mind is strong with thoughts of home, the pylons and trees of Chylene, how she'll never see her homeworld ever again. But yet... her gaze goes to the viewport as she thinks, and someone else's face comes to mind, and a gentle smile appears on her sunken visage. Looking around for somewhere to sit, she settles on the lip of the crew's pit, her wings folding around her shoulders, the tip of her tail twitching a few times over the course of several hours. Finally, she hops down again and starts programming a new hyperspace jump. Anywhere's better than here. Briefly, she checks the security station to see if her guests are still locked up and behaving, and she's careful to keep both blasters she stole earlier on her person. The bedsheets she stole to use as robes in lieu of real clothes ensure she's not hampered in movements. When she thinks she's ready, she nods to herself. "Ahhh, Brandis," she murmurs to herself, a sorrowful expression appearing on her face. "Hopefully we will meet again..."

Hours pass as he searches, unconscious of physical need. Finally, unseeing but for no other reason than that his mind is enveloped in the Force, Brandis moves his hands over the console, plotting out a complicated and dangerous course through Hyperspace that hopefully won't end in a fiery death. Without a second thought, he throttles up into light speed, letting the nav comp follow the course he plotted. He's got a lot of faith in the Force right now. He's probably going to need it.

Before Kyrin can press the sequence to send the ship into hyperspace, the tactical console advises her that a ship has come out of hyperspace nearly on top of them. Clambering up out of the pit and leaping into the other one, she checks the readings. "How is this possible?" she asks herself before turning to the communications console. If nothing else, she's getting a lot of exercise trying to man stations that are supposed to be manned by several more people. With a few tabbed buttons, she opens a channel. "Unknown ship," she begins, her voice sounding weak and thready, but strengthening for a moment as she imagines Captain Stone giving orders. "This is the..." Her grey eyes flash about for a plaque giving the ship's name. Dammit. "Never mind. Identify and state your business!"

The jump didn't take nearly as long as he thought it ought to, and so Brandis is mostly disbelieving...and more than a little worried when he jumps out of hyperspace on top of a massive Imperial ship. This isn't going as well as he'd hoped. The irregularity of the contact, however, brings his heart to his throat, even as he toggles the communications array to respond. "Imperial Star Destroyer, this is the Rising Phoenix, in search of a missing comrade. Request permission to pass through your space unmolested as soon as I reset my coordinates. He wants to weep. He wants to rail at fate that his own senses have betrayed him so completely. She was supposed to be free. Lost, but free. His imagination is even playing tricks on him, the voice that he wants to hear is the one that is coming through the comm to him.

Kyrin actually /stares/ at the console with her mouth wide open. "BRANDIS?!?" she shouts, hopefully not bursting any eardrums. "Land in the hangar bay, and do not let the Imperial shuttle and the two guards escape!" Tears of joy run down her cheeks as that beloved voice makes itself properly registered. Leaping up and over to the other pit, she hunts for the correct panel, then swears. Finding the correct one, she opens the hangar bay and then closes it promptly as soon as the Phoenix has entered within. Switching back to the comm, she says, "It is I! How on Chylene did you find me?!?" Who cares about how she's managed to steal such a ship?

The ship Brandis arrived in looks like nothing more than a tramp freighter, but it's /his/ ship. He doesn't have anyone to gun for him, so he's going to have the devil's own time keeping the shuttle from leaving, but...it's oddly silent as he drops through the magnetic bay door and powers down. The two guards spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to power up the shuttle, but neither one of them has flight training, apparently, and the two pilots within aren't being very helpful.

When he strides down the ramp, he's dressed in full Jedi regalia, which is more than enough to put the fear of the Maker into the hearts of the two soldiers. They are easy enough to subdue and stow aboard his ship in the hold, before he marches purposefully toward where he thinks the bridge ought to be. "You might want to help direct me to the bridge, maybe..." he says aloud, figuring a nearby comm station might pick up his voice. This is certainly the most...quiet Imperial vessel he's ever been on. "I can find my way through hyperspace to you a lot easier than I can wander a ship this size." he wants to hold her in his arms and never let her go. Her voice sounds so very tired.

Kyrin gives the directions, finding the controls to open the blast doors in sequence to help show the Jedi the way. The tears don't stop, and she's waiting on tenterhooks at the bridge doors. Still, she keeps a hand on a blaster. Y'never know. Please, please, please let it be him. And when he makes it to the bridge... he might even be shocked at what he sees. Looking definitely underfed and maltreated, but at least clean and not smelling... and her hair's been raggedly chopped off near her shoulderblades, the long braid gone. Tears, a bitten lip... and /alive/. And on the bridge of a very large and very empty Victory Star Destroyer. "I wonder," she says with a choked voice, "if General Antilles will forgive me for losing my X-Wing." Then, she leaps at Brandis, intending on a tight hug, the blaster set on the floor carefully. Those things go off if you drop them. "Please, I want to go home... to the Reprisal. I do not know the way."

Brandis holds her as tightly as he dares, as frail as her body feels beneath his hands. It doesn't surprise him. He supposes he was no better, when they'd rescued him from Imperial attentions. He laughs softly at the question she asks, but only because he knows she needs mirth now, over the tears he'd shed in relief. "You're safe now, Kyrin...you're safe. I know how to get you there. The coordinates I used to find you are still locked into my nav computer. It will be easy enough to trace the journey back." he turns, though he refuses to release his hold on her, his own fears that she's just a figment of his imagination...silly as they are, still very prevalent in his mind. "If you can get the computer here to communicate with the Phoenix, it'll be easier to transfer the coords." some part of him hovers on the verge of breaking, of undoing the knot of tension...the fear that he really is meant to be alone, because everyone he loves either leaves or dies. "I don't know how to slave the ship to the Phoenix, or I would." he frowns, chewing on his lip as he tries to formulate a working plan. The ship she stole is bloody huge. He's still in awe that she managed it at all. "I'll have to go back down there to finagle the comm station, but I'll come back to make the jump with you, okay?"

Kyrin actually smiles and laughs giddily. "Watch this..." She flutters down into the main computer technician's station and taps several commands into the console. And after a few minutes of computers doing what they do best... the ship suddenly makes the leap to hyperspace. "I am /glad/ to see you. I missed you... I thought I would never see you again." And then she's trembling and crying all over again, weeping on his fancy Jedi regalia as the ship takes them home.



It's the middle of the day when it comes to NR Mil duty shifts. And something just came out of hyperspace with a burst of pseudomotion and radiation, lighting up both Imperial and New Republic sensors. On the NR side, the ship is promptly tagged as a hostile in red, a dangerous red as it skims within the Imperial blockade and heads reasonably straight toward the NRSD Reprisal. Warnings go off, commands to scramble, marines to gear up and prepare for boarding. Communications hails the ship. And then... the geeks who feed sensor readings to the bridge can report in clear voices.

"Victory-Class Star Destroyer inbound!"

 Captain Caiton surveys the sensor readings while listening to the communications chatter regarding the prototype test and the first stirrings that something isn't going the way it was outline to go. The alert comes from her own tactical officer, pinpointing the incoming ship and highlighting it on the forward display screen. "Magnify," Caiton orders, examining the display with narrowed eyes. "Communications, I want to know who is at the helm of that VSD."

Ensign Balak looks up quickly, "Aye, Captain. Attempting to raise the VSD." His hands quickly fly over the console and he begins to speak through his microphone. "VSD, please halt where you are and identify yourself. I repeat, this is the ISC Broadsword..identify yourself."

At the first instant the alert klaxon reaches his ears, Kesander Beysarus is on his feet and moving out smartly in the direction of Ghost 7. A quick exchange of words with the crew chief responsible for his ship and the Corellian vaults up the boarding ladder and into the cockpit of his starfighter. "Doomsday, this is Ghost 7. Completing prelaunch and awaiting clearance to launch on pad alpha." His checklist complete, his four ion engines hot and ready for action, the X-Wing driver acknowledges launch permission and fires his ship forward, out of the Fighter Bay of Reprisal and into the star-spangled blackness of space.

The alert lights on the Reprisal turn red and the klaxons sound. The all call out sounds and throughout the crew quarters, pilots are rolling out of their bunks and wriggling into their flightsuits. Up in the ready room - remarkably well named - Aramis is re-re-reading Jenya Vala's proposal and muttering under his breath.

When the lights go red and the alarms go off, he throws the datapad down on the chair and is down to the hangar. His Falcon is waiting for him when he hits the floor and he tumbles into her cockpit, dropping his helmet onto his head and pulling the shield down. He gets permission to take off and hits the black just seconds behind Kesander.

 Already in the fighter bay, the alert klaxons going off startle Mitali in the middle of finishing up some minor repairs and cause the Mirialan to clock himself on the head against the underside of an A-Wing. But he's a professional, really. Hissing a curse, he hurriedly gets the fighter closed back up and backpedals away to clear the ship for its pilot, reaching up to rub himself on the head with an exasperated sigh. "What now?" he asks no one in particular, hauling himself back up to his feet and quickly begins patting his pockets down for his datapad.

His second shift on the bridge, and again it seems that he's getting into trouble, the first one having been that dogfight the Reprisal found itself in, and now in the second one, there's a VSD headed straight towards them. Apparently, either a bridge assignment is bad for Rasi, or he bad for the ship. He mans one of the auxiliary gunnery stations, and as soon as the klaxons go off, he brings the batteries assigned to him on standby, ready to feed them the necessary information. And of course, silently, the young man prays that he won't come to regret this day's events.

Hase upon hearing the alarms going off he quickly gets into his jump suit and starts to head towards the starfighter hanger. People scrambling to their assigned post as well as fighter pilots, Hase been one of them. Upon reaching the starfighter hanger, he looks about wondering if this is a drill or not but no, all is in high alert. So he climbs on to Ghost 3 and sets himself up within the cockpit. Upon doing his preflight he waits patiently as he speaks. " Ghost 3 here, ready to take off.". Once he gets approved he takes off and into space.

Crystal sprints her way into the hangar a few seconds after the Klaxons start going off, and she's in her X-wing with her R2 unit being loaded in. She's not even done strapping in when she flicks on the comm. "Ghost 2, Ready for take off." She waits only semi-idle as she finishes strapping in before she launches with the confirmation.

 The Reprisal sounding general quarters catches one Wrista Ipex during one of her infrequent bouts of actual downtime, as opposed to downtime spent training, or harassing her subordinates. Fortunately, extensive Marine Corps training means that when an alert sounds, the body takes care of all the incidentals, like waking up, getting dressed in a hurry, even the emphatic swearing that runs through the entire process prior to getting out the door and into the purposeful bustling of the crew deck. Somewhere around waiting for the suddenly-overworked turbolifts to have room for her, a call comes in from the Tac Ops center on Deck 13, and n short order, the Marine Lieutenant clicks her comm over to her Platoon's frequency. "Sergeant Pelx, we're swinging the ropes today. Get everyone down to the hangar and make sure they don't forget to prep the assault shuttles. We're first of four on the ready line, so hop-to."

As swift as they can be launched, Ghost is given clearance, then Dagger, followed by Krakana and then Falcon... the thought being that the swifter A-Wings will catch the slower ships up by the time they get there. One thing that's odd... the intruding Star Destroyer hasn't got any shields registering. And the initial scans from the Republic side show... no TIEs in racks in the hangar. Hell, there's hardly a life form registering on it... centered on the bridge, somewhere deep inside, and near one of the hangar bays... just a few very tiny signs of anyone on board.

 The sensors alert her as to the ready status of the Reprisal, it's fighters emerging from their ship, illuminating each one with a numeric identifier on the screen. With no instant response from the VSD, especially one that is clearly flagged as one of their own, Captain Caiton turns to her XO with a grim expression on her face, "We can't let the rebels get a hold of that ship." Speaking in turn to Ensign Balak, "Continue trying to raise that VSD. Monitor all open frequencies for radio chatter, I want to know who is saying to whom. Turning back to Wolf she lowers her voice, "We may need to destroy it ourselves."

 With the Admiral and Captain of the Reprisal not around currently, the highest ranking Officer, Commander Jason Gorrman is overseeing the bridge as the scramble alert go off. It has been send for either Captain Stone or the Admiral, but until they are on the bridge, he will supervise the defensive measures. "Give me the vector of the ship on the tactical display and monitor the Imperial movements in the Blockade.", come the orders while he waits for the Fighter screen to deploy.

In the cockpit of his X-Wing, Kesander looks at his sensors and once formed up with the rest of his comrades toggles his mic and transmits: "Ghost leader, this is Ghost 7, Spectre Flight launch successful. Proceeding on vector data received from Doomsday and awaiting further instructions." Pausing for a moment, the Corellian looks at his scopes and checks his mission data, before toggling his mic once more. "This is Ghost 7, anyone know whose Star Destroyer that is? This doesn't look right somehow."

 Aramis, in Falcon 2, shoots past the rest of the ships with Falcon Squadron. "Ghost 7, all our scans are showing that... it doesn't look like it belongs to anyone. Nothing in the racks. Could be a trap." He listens to the chatter from his own Squadron for a moment as they spread out to keep reasonable distance until told to close in on the massive capital ship. "Holding position as ordered, Falcon One," he answers his commanding officer.

The Red lights shine on top of the Hangar bay of the NRSD Reprisal. The pilot of the A-wing Starfighter Falcon 6 raises up from the small resting place he made for himself and sighs out with a small curse. He puts on his black gloves and than he places his helmet to his head carefully. He speaks to the commlink on the Helmet. "This is Falcon 6. I am getting ready to take off." he says and rushes towards his Dagger Shaped A-wing Fighter. He jumps on the cockpit and a R2 unit beeps from down, "I will be careful." he says, R2 Beeps. "I know I said it last time. I will be more careful this time I promise. I have returned right?" The R2 beeps sadly and rolls away. The pilot activates the Engines and than the weapon systems. He launches his A-wing and than flips on his Fighters Shields, "This is Falcon 6 to Doomsday. I am about to be ready over..."

The reply to the Commander's question is given soon enough, the officer in charge of scans, responding quickly enough in a slightly alarmed tone. As for Rasi himself, he contents himself with readying his guns, silently thanking whatever star shines on him that he did not leave till later the finetuning of his guns.

 Wrista hits the main hangar running. Most people would jog, but the twi'lek Marine is so short that she has to work double to get the same effect, at times. Pleased at the sight of her platoon already loading into an assault shuttle, she skids to a halt next to a grizzled-looking Sergeant, who begins helping her into combat dress over her duty BDUs, while another Marine stands nearby with her weapons. Wrista clicks her comm unit over to the command frequency while she suits up. "Bridge, Tac Ops, this is Marine Bandit-One-One, checking in. Primary boarding shuttle is ready on standby at the launch line." Okay, so not quite, but give her troops another thirty seconds or so, and they will be, from the sounds of the shuttle's engines throttling to an idle.

Hase gets into flight position and he seems to be all ready for combat but by the sounds of things, no one knows what is going on. He makes sure all systems are on and ready for battle. He hears the coms and sure enough it is strange but he keeps it to himself, just simply trying to concentrate on the battle if it comes to that.

"Cut the chatter, you guys." Ghost One, Major Johmac Mabru, was already up, his X-Wing's S-foils spread open wide. "I don't like the looks of this. Falcon two, take Falcon six and seven, and set up a CAP, cover its escape route. Krakana and Dagger will cut off the other sides." Bringing Ghost One around, Johmac eyes the Star Destroyer quietly. With the /Reprisal/ the fighters of Strike Group Alpha would be enough to corral this this thing.. but if it was a trap, like some of them were beginning to suggest, it was a rather lame one. "Ghosts, move into position alpha three eight. Watch those lower hangars, boys. I'm gonna begin transmitting an ID request."

Channels are switched, and the headset on his helmet is knocked at slightly as he clears his throat. "Unidentified Star Destroyer, this is Ghost One, Major Johmac Mabru of the New Republic Starfighter Corps. You are in violation of Coruscanti spaceways. Transmit identification and intentions immediately," he pipes into his headset. Pretty lame thing for an X-Wing to be transmitting to a STAR DESTROYER, but there you go. Regulations.

Aboard the intruding ship, a pair of grey eyes meets another pair, and then Johmac's ship is hailed. A calm voice speaks into the channel, one thought lost forever, silenced by war, although the voice clearly trembles despite the note of authority in it. "Ghost Leader, this is Ghost Four..." On the bridge, the Chyleni shivers and closes her eyes. Thankfully someone who could identify her without any trouble or suspicion of her being an imposter. "I seem to have misplaced my X-Wing, Major," she continues in a proper formality to things. "I formally present the New Republic with the Star Destroyer Wings of Justice as compensation in hopes that General Antilles does not take it out of my pay." Her words are also transmitted to the Reprisal. "Doomsday, please send boarding parties to secure the skeleton crew in the brig and trapped within Jedi Brandis Finian's ship, which is in the hangar bay."

 Commander Seifer Wolf stood on the bridge of the Broadsword, looking out across the vast space they call, 'Space'. He turned to Lynae as she spoke to him and looked back out across the void at the VSD. "Would you like me to take out Black Squadron?" he asked, folding his arms and looking towards the tactical screen illuminating its designated area of the bridge. "I wouldn't mind killing a few of them before that VSD decides to wake up." He smiled at the faint screams of a Rebel pilot bursting into flames, it was his goal to get that at each shot, but lately as the XO of the Broadsword and CO of the Elite squadron, he didn't get much action as a fighter pilot.

The head tech stands on the bridge, clasping and unclasping his hands nervously, as he listens to the transmission being broadcast to the NR. Ever since his companions were taken away he has been more uncertain of his position.

The comm channel crackles slightly as Brandis takes over the station so that Kyrin can better direct the ship to do what she wants it to. "This is Jedi Kitterick Finian aboard the Wings of Justice, requesting an immediate escort to take this ship in-system before the Imperials start taking potshots at us." There is a note of humor in his voice, even given the seriousness of the situation. If he knew how close he was to someone who wants him unarguably dead, he might feel differently about things.

 Aboard Ghost 7, Kesander transmits a reply, "Roger that Ghost Leader, Spectre Flight moving to alpha three eight...." But the transmission from the mysterious star destroyer makes the blond haired pilot stop, his jaw agape. "KYRIN!!! You're in a *lot* of trouble, young lady!" transmits the Corellian, unable to restrain his joy at a lost comrade returning after being presumed dead.

The A-Wing Falcon 6's pilot Woohoos with the channel open, "Oops. Is this thing on?" he asks, "Ahem. This is Falcon 6. I copy the command Doomsday." He says and gets ready to cover the escape route of the X-wing

 Mitali gets his com turned on just in time, and he's pivoting on his heel to go grab a kit at record speed. "Need a tech, Lieutenant?" he calls towards Wrista, expression hopeful as he yanks a toolkit off of a cart. Someone evidentally wants to come with the boarding party.

(space)Hase listens well to his order from ghost 1 and he communicates back. "This is Ghost 3, copy and out." as he moves to position. Though as the mysterious voice on the com is instantly recognized and he can't help but grin, though how she got a star destroyer is surely surprising. he chuckles at the situation but says nothing over the comm.

Ensign Balak stares at his console in disbelief. He begins to turn towards Captain Catain. He stands in haste, his comm unit tearing itself off at his sudden movement. "Captain!" he almost yells. "I've just intercepted a communication from the rogue VSD. It's the VSD Wings of Justice...and it is currently in rebel control. They are requesting a boarding party to get the ship within. A ship owned by a Jedi by the name of Brandis Finian."

 Captain Caiton considers the option for a few moments, one hand rubbing against her chin, a contemplative posture while listening to the continuing radio chatter. It seems, from her point of view, that the Reprisal is scrambling it's fighters to sortie against the VSD. But, unable to raise the VSD on hailing frequencies, "Have your squadron stand by," she orders after another moment of thought. "I am loathe to take the Broadsword in against the VSD prototype," she adds in a low voice to Wolf. "Suggestions on alternatives?"

The techs are all grouped in a circle, as far away from the NR personnel as they can be, as they talk in murmurs amongst each other. There are phrases like "Interrogation" and "COMPNOR" that might be overheard. From time to time they glance at the remote control's housing.

 Aboard Falcon 2, Aramis just starts laughing. "I don't think anyone's getting a bigger escort than this all year," he says, over the comms. He follows the other Falcons to take up vanguard positions in the escort, to take the prodigal pair home.

 Even as she asks for alternatives, Ensign Balak calls out the alert and the identifying names, Caiton's eyes lighting up, a speculative gleam. "Well now, well now indeed," she murmurs in a low voice, her expression suddenly intent. "So the Chyleni and the Jedi are both on the ship. How.. fortuitous," she breathes quietly. "Belay my previous order. We now have one objective: Destroy that ship."

Eyes become as wide as saucers. Back from the dead. Johmac glances down at his comms panel when something is transmitted on a subchannel. An ID Code... which his astromech confirms as -real- and -authenticated.- "Alpha group, new Tasking Order!" And at once, it seems the forty starfighters that're deploying seem to slow to listen to the Major... "Establish CE Positions around this Star Destroyer. Krakana, send some elements back to the Reprisal to cover the boarding shuttle! Let's move it, ladies and gentlemen!" He calls out. CE stood for Combat Escort.. Apparently, he would expect trouble. Just part of his job. Meanwhile, Ghost One does a typical little fly-by of the conning tower, before coming back around... Joined by Dagger One, Krakana One, and Falcon One. Delta V, with Ghost Squadron's leader closest to the back. The point is pointing in the direction the SD's pointing.

Switching channels again, Johmac clears his throat slightly. "Good to see you back, Lieutenant Sh'vani," he remarks, head turning toward the conning tower for a moment and watching it. After a moment or so, he turns his attention back to the avionics, watching them..

 Keeping the bridge efficient, the launch orders have been relayed to the Deck Officers on the Hangars who will give the launch signals to the fighters as they get ready, aiming to get all flights as soon in space as possible, while in the main hangar Marine Assault Shuttles are being prepped. Cmdr. Gorrman is overlooking the tactical display, before turning to the Communication Officers. "Tactical, get me two flights to scissor the ship so they can ascertain there is nothing hiding in the wake of the thing. Gunnery stations, calculate target solutions on the bridge and engi...". The order cuts off there as the Star Destroyer actually answers. Eyebrows shoot up, the good Commander actually speechless for a heartbeat or two. Signaling his com officer to open the channel, he straightens himself. "Doomsday to Wings of Justice. We copy. Transmit your security codes for proper authentication.". Well, regulations, right? Even if the chatter explodes with people who obviously recognize the voices. Another signal, another order to the Com Officer and the coms to the hangar: "Marine Assault Shuttle cleared for launch.", comes the order once the security IDs check out clear. One last look around the bridge, and he steps forwards, closer to the viewport. "Gunnery Stations. Stand by for covering fire. Navigation, continuous calculation for microjump 100 above and 50 units behind the Wings of Justice. We might have to give her some cover. Signal fleet and HQ that we have a defection situation.".

 Wrista looks up from listening and getting herself buckled into armor to catch Mitali's request. She frowns, and looks like she's about to decline, but then just nods her head towards the shuttle while she slings her rifle over her shoulder. "Get in, and stay back. We don't have time for spare armor this time. Clear it with Blackledge in the air, and make sure she's not going to get on my case if you get yerself fried." She makes shooing motions with her hands while she chases Mitali up the ramp, and several Marines toss friendly greetings and catcalls his way while she closes and secures the hatch, throwing the pilot a thumbs-up. The pilot keys at this pad, calling in on the flight deck comlink. " Clearance acknowledged, Bridge. Assault One, launching hot." ((Will pose the actual launch after a couple more poses.))

 "I cower very well, ma'am," Mitali promises, wasting no time in bolting onto the marine shuttle and moving aaaall the way into the back to claim a seat. The catcalls from the marines, oddly enough, get returned by the tech as he gets himself strapped in and gets his datapad back out to send a, um, request, to his supervisor.

<Broadsword> Wolf nods and lifts his right arm, flicking a few buttons on a cylindrical device from his belt, "This is Commander Wolf. I want all squadrons on Full alert, launch to space and wait for further orders, that Includes Black Squadron." Wolf flicked off the comm device and placed it back into his utility belt. "The squadrons are ready for your orders. I'll head down to Black 1 at your request." Wolf said to his Captain, his eyes locked on the tactical screen.

<Broadsword> The bridge turbolift glides up the shaft and finally comes to a stop. Exiting from the car, Imperial Commissar Lanil Jast makes his way along the command deck. Coming up behind Captain Caiton, he speaks, "Captain, mind informing me what's going on? I heard some commotion down the hall outside my quarters and discovered TIE pilots running down to the turbolifts." Breaking off his question, he turns and looks at the tactical readout, "Hmmm...yes...ah." Pausing, he arches an eyebrow, "Captain, why is the VSD-X1 IFF'ed as enemy?"

<SPACE> "Copy, Ghost Leader, Spectre Flight changing course to establish CE positions around Wings of Justice," transmits Kesander as he and his comrades begin to roll to their new vector heading. "Ghost 7 to Ghost 4, really glad to have you back. Looking forward to hearing the story later, Sandman, out." The Corellian gives himself the luxury of looking over the captured Star Destroyer with an enormous grin.

Aboard Wings of Justice, Kyrin smiles as her CO sets up the honor escort. "Major, beware Imperial encroachment," she transmits to Ghost Leader. "They will not appreciate that I borrowed their latest development. Our techs will want to get their hands on this." Her gaze goes to the head tech summoned back to the bridge... just in case. "I am sorry, Technician," she says quietly. "But I am certain that your forces would have done the same thing. /I/ also have not killed anyone in my attempt to be free, unlike what was done to free Captain Caiton. As I stated earlier, you and your people will be repatriated, if that is your decision. If you choose to return, after questioning far less hostile than I was subjected to by your people, you will be permitted to do so." The Chyleni looks toward Brandis for a moment, her brows furrowing when he uses his first name instead of the middle one everyone else uses. "Almost there," she murmurs quietly, teartracks still on her face, and she sniffles, wiping a hand across her blue skin.

The techs look uniformly skeptical at Kyrin's attempt at reassurance before they go back to their whispers.

Crystal does a fly-by of the Star Destroyer bridge and partly smiles at the boldness of Kyrin. "Figures. Bird-brain's never going to let us live this down I bet." She says making a u-turn and flying back around the SD.

Brandis stands slightly apart from Kyrin at this point, if only to give a professional view to the Imperial in their presence. He doesn't like it much, but his face is impassive, the soul of calm as he looks at the tactical readout. "If we're not lucky, the TIE fighters are going to overtake us before our escort can get into position. Is it possible to direct the ship to fire on the TIEs, without destroying them?"

<Broadsword> Cueing up the snatch of conversation that relays the identifying chatter from the VSD, Caiton lets Jast hear the verification of the enemy signal aboard the VSD. "This would be why," she states before turning to Wolf, "Have Black form up and prepare to deploy. Jast, do you have any tactical information on the VSD prototype? I want firing solutions on that VSD." Turning to Balak she continues speaking, one order at a time, "I want that snippet of conversation and every thing recorded, copied, backed up, as later proof of engagement authorization. Wolf, tell your pilots that they are clear to engage as soon as they have a viable lock."

<Broadsword> Wolf nods to Lynae, "May I join them?" he asked, fingering his comms device. He was anxious to get out there.. they had to be shown what happens when they take Imperial property.. or do anything to get in the Empires way.

<SPACE> The NR Marine boarding shuttle's pilot apparently wasn't kidding about a 'hot launch', as the shuttle leaves the Reprisal's bay like the proverbial scalded mynock, kicking the occupants in the teeth with acceleration and probably doing the hangar deck few favors. Someone'll probably yell at him about peeled paint later, but, well... thus is a combat launch. The assault shuttle swings around on a vector towards the VSD Wings of Justice, sensors and fire control coming live as it clears the Reprisal's interference.

Hase follows the main group of Ghost as escort towards the new ship. Sure he is surprised but he is not sure what is really going on. Is this a trap...He shakes his head at this and simply does what he is told. " Ghost 3 here, escort as requested." and then simply flies to the one side and remains there, waiting for further orders.

<Broadsword> Captain Caiton nods to Wolf, "Yes," she replies to his request. "Happy hunting and bring me back a few souvenirs," she adds with a fierce grin.

Kyrin gives the technicians an uneasy look before opening the channel to Doomsday, which means the NR pilots also catch that. "It is good to hear so many friendly voices for a change," she says rather fondly, clearing her throat. Glancing up at Brandis, she shakes her head. "We are unable to fire upon any target accurately," she responds quietly. "Doomsday, be advised Wings of Justice is /not/ able to fire without hitting friendlies. Targeting systems had not yet been fully installed before it was appropriated." Her eyes fall on the head technician again and then she glances at Brandis once, lifting an eyebrow in question, then her gaze goes back to the whispering pencil-neck geeks. "What are your plans?" she asks calmly.

<SPACE> "I'm good!" Mitali calls towards Wrista as he shoves his datapad back into his vest, now that he's recovered his sense from when the launch knocked it right out of his head. "It's on me if I get shot, don't worry about it!" The marine next to him just looks amused and slaps the techie on the back; Mitali *whumpf*s and quietly thanks the Maker for the safety harness.

<Reprisal>Staring into the space before him, Cmdr. Gorrman is frowning deeply, before he once more turns. "Get the Picket line deploy for a forward Fighter Screen. Make sure they stay out of our hyperjump vector. I do not want no accidents. Navigation, get us out of the gravwell.", come the orders. He is going to get himself and this ship into the thick of things, for that tiny grey speck in front of him. That better end up with as little hiccup as possible. "I want ETAs on the Wings of Justice's arrival within our main gunnery range, as well as how long it takes the Marine Shuttle to dock with them. Any Imperial movement towards our forces up on the tactical screen.". Pausing, he then once more lets an channel be opened: "Doomsday to all flights and Wings of Justice. That bit of sky is going to get awfully crowded in a few moments. Check fire until you are sure you have a clear lock on enemy crafts. May the Force be with you." Well, there is little but to watch and see how the Battle will be joined now, is there?

The techs apparently have finished talking, but whether they have reached a resolution seems doubtful, as they look this way and that as the activities on the bridge flow around them.

<SPACE> "Roger that, Doomsday," replies the blond-haired Corellian pilot. As Ghost 7 and his squadron mates assume their combat escort stations around the Star Destroyer, Kesander begins to methodically check his scopes and the mission data updates from Doomsday. "This is Sandman, suggest everybody keep your eyes peeled for Imperial company as Ghost 4 advises. This little party could get hot really fast. Spectre Flight, standby for combat maneuvers. Sandman, out."

Wolf immediately takes off towards the Turbolift, pulling out his comms device and sends the lift heading towards the Hangar. "All squadrons form up on Black 1 as it launches." Wolf said, removing his tunic and pulling up his flight gear. As the lift doors fly open he began his sprint towards the Black Squadron racks, deck officers running up and handing him equipment for the battle to come. His helmet is handed to him last and he clambers into the top of his TIE Interceptor. "Black One, reading for launch." he said, clearly not as ready as he should be. But by the time he was given clearance he was dropping from the Broadsword and heading for the VSD. 24 fighters were formed up on his six all ready for a bit of Rebel hunting.

<SPACE> The NR's Assault One doesn't bother slowing down when a pair of X-wings swing into formation on either side as an escort. The assault shuttle blasts through space, covering the distance to the VSD with perhaps surpridsing speed for a transport, but this is a combat craft, designed to barrel through fire to deliver boarding parties. Which is exactly what it does, swinging up from the underside of the Wings of Justice to make a combat landing inside the bay. this, of course, involves the shuttle skidding to a none-too gentle stop on its landing skids, the boarding ramp slamming unceremoniously to the deck, and first four, and shortly afterwards, forty marines(plus one tech) pouring out of the shuttle with rifles held high and ready. "Bandit-One-One here," Wrista says into her helmet commlink. "We've landed in the main hangar bay. Dispatching a squad to deal with the hostiles in Jedi Finian's vessel. Be advised, we plan to make all haste to the bridge before sweeping the key capture points in squads." She waves her people into motion.

The A-Wing Falcon 6's Pilot is confused what to do. "This is Falcon 6. Awaiting orders Doomsday." he says to the comlink...

"Ghost Leader, this is Dagger Leader," A haggard old captain piloting Dagger One begins to pipe over the general frequency used by Starfighter Operations.. "My WSO is picking up a large group of signals, moving fast. They're comin' for 'er, Major." Heaving a bit of a sigh, Johmac nods. They weren't gonna get out of this one without a fight. "Krakana Six, Krakana Seven, rejoin your flights and get ready for combat" And now, he had other things to do and task out. "Falcons, listen up. Break up into combat groups, two two a group. Dagger, Krakana, Ghost - If you've not done so already, lock S-Foils in attack positions." Dagger B-Wings respond promptly, the folds coming out from the bodies of the four B-Wings quickly... "All groups assume attack positions, and accelerate to combat speed." In the meantime, he and the rest of the Squadron Leaders peel away from flanking the Star Destroyer's conning tower.. Not the best of signs, apparently.

<Justice> After the marines have spilled out of the assault shuttle and into the hangar bay, Mitali pokes his head out of the shuttle like a rodent peering out of its den. Repair kit in one hand and his other resting on his blaster, he drops down onto the hangar floor once he's satisfied he isn't about to be shot, perfectly happy to hang back behind the marines.

Crystal clicks her comm on, then back off as she locks her S-foils in attack position and Follows Ghost leader into the foray....hopefully to knock some Ties off his 6.

<SPACE> "This is Ghost 7, Roger, that Ghost Leader, opening S-Foils and accelerating to attack speed," transmits Kesander over the tactical net. Forming up with the Ghosts and the other fighters from Reprisal, the Corellian shifts his attention between his scopes and visual referrence points, scanning for the first signs of threat craft comming in.

Pilot Seth Skyler pushes his commlink and nods his head, "This is Falcon six. Order acknowledged beginning attack..." he says and starts to give power to his shields and his weapon systems. After a grin, "Leave some Ties for me." he says.

Aboard the stolen ship, its nominal commander watches the fighters peel off and then goes to the tactical panel in the crew pit. Kyrin looks up at Brandis worriedly. "What do you sense, Brandis? Will this work?" Home free is not yet home free, after all. Once more, the Chyleni's wings rustle as she goes from station to station. The ship can be controlled remotely, and they disabled that as best they could... but one never knows. Kyrin's no pencil-necked geek.

<Broadsword> Standing near the communications officer to confirm that the conversations are recorded accordingly, Caiton watches as the TIE's are launched from her ship towards the enemy and the VSD and it's prized possessions. Turning to her tactical officer she begins a quiet consultation, pulling up a diagram of the ship and the weapons available, the summary of the projected flight plan and the corresponding notes regarding it's weapons-ready status. She opens a channel to the Prowler to contact Commander Rall, "Commander Rall, would your Vipers be interested in some target practice?" she calls out, a bare hint of a smile on her face as she makes the call.

Hase listens to the comms and nods to himself and then he puts his serious face on. " Ghost 3 here, confirming and readying for combat." he opens his s-foils and rechecks his weapons systems, then doing a dive an d a turn he gets into formation with the other x-wings.

<SPACE> "Well, well. Looks like there's a dance coming," Aramis says to himself, turning and breaking away from the escort formation to enter into combat mode. Shields up, targeting locked, he's ready to go. "Falcon One, this is Falcon 2, prepared to engage the enemy," he says over the open comm.

<SPACE> "I want Darksword Squadron to start bombarding that VSD straight away, try to get those shields down, then target the bridge."

As is often the case, the Corvette Prowler is in close proximity to the Broadsword, but with the increased operations tempo, the Captain was off shift enjoying a short rest. When the Task Force Commander's voice is piped into her quarters Jal'Dana snaps awake. "Aye Captain" Comes the raspy reply. "I'll even fly with them." Grabbing her flight suit, she slips it half on before making her way to the hangar. To her surprise, her squadron is already prepped. Handing her the flight helmet, the ships Engineer says. "We figured ya' be heading out Ma'am" With a wry smile, and a crisp salute she climbs into her TIE mark II and gives the command to launch. "Raise shields, weapons free, lets see what's out there" the woman radios her squadron. "link up with the other battle groups, fly in mixed formation" Commander Rall, is now fully awake, and into only been fifteen minutes since the Broadswords call.

The techs are looking increasingly nervous all about them as they see, but not hear, the battle beginning to rage outside the viewports. They look at Brandis and Kyrin with the expressions of people standing on a rapidly shrinking piece of land in shark infested waters.

<SPACE> "I want Darksword Squadron to start bombarding that VSD straight away, try to get those shields down, then target the bridge." Wolf said over the comms. "The rest of you, engage those fighters with the intent and rage to slaughter those Pilots like the dogs they are." he said. His usual small speech echoed through War Shrike and Black squadrons as they sailed towards the incoming NRites.

<WINGS OF JUSTICE> Wrista nods in satisfaction as one squad of marines peels off to deal with the Imperials reportedly locked up in the YT-1300 in the VSD's bay, and the twi'lek and the rest of her platoon(plus one) start their way to the bridge, making good time due to familiarity with the basic layout, and a lack of problems along the way. Soon enough, the point team dives through the bridge hatchway, ready for trouble and willing to blast it back to where it came from. Perhaps to their disappointment, there isn't much trouble to worry about, and soon the bridge fills with combat-ready marines, plus one tech and a very short Marine CO. Not a few of the Imperial technicians on the bridge find themselves staring down blaster rifle barrels as the area is secured.

<Reprisal> Remaining quiet on the Bridge, Gorrman is listening to the chatter over the comlinks, the conversations and status reports that come from his bridge crew as still the Reprisal makes her way to meet with the Wings of Justice half-way, and still he remains staring out of the viewport, rather than to turn to the tactical map. Imperial ships have begun to peel away from the blockade, he can see that without the help of sensors. Only once he gets the first reports of contact from the fighter wings, does he turn, moving towards the navigation console, moving to lean over the back of the being manning it, talking quietly to inform him of the movement he expects once they are about to pass the Wings of justice, which causes the man to go a bit wide-eyed. To pass the Justice's top, then bank the Reprisal downwards so it uses it's own shape to cover the engine compartments while the dorsal gun-batteries can unleash their firepower, and then end up on the same vector underneath the Justice, belly to belly is not a maneuver you see a stardestroyer to perform every day...     Turning once he is sure the man understood it and is working on how to execute it, he regards the tactical display, watching the little shaded archs that signal the firing arcs of the batteries creep over the VSD and soon enough beyond as both ships close in on one another. "Light batteries commence barrage fire. Watch for our boys and girls out there. Heavy Batteries, calculate solutions on closest capital ship. Wait for my mark to commence sequence firing."

<Broadsword> Once Caiton and the Tactical Officer agree on the best firing strategy the Broadsword begins to slowly vector closer to the VSD. Keeping enough clear space between the ships of size to allow the fighters to freely engage, Caiton sizes up the tactical display and addresses the bridge crew, "This is not a drill. The VSD has been taken over by enemy combatants and it is our task to destroy that ship before it's resources and the knowledge contained therein are added to the enemy arsenal. To that end, we will do one of two things. Destroy it utterly, or retrieve it. Failure is not an option." With those worse she nods to the tactical officer to begin the opening fire sequence as soon as the Broadsword is within range, targeting the engines first.

Kyrin turns as the Twi'lek and her platoon and plus one arrive on the bridge. She looks a serious mess from the last time Wrista ever saw her. "Welcome, my friends," she greets quietly, then gestures to the technicians. "We have guests to attend to. We could use a technician to work on getting intel from the ship's databanks and prevent the Imperials from regaining control via the remote controls built in." The consoles with the remotes in it are gestured to as well.

<Wings of Justice> Once the marines are through the doorway, Mitali steps onto the bridge behind them, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards into an odd but unmistakably pleased smile when he spots Kyrin and Brandis. "It's an honor, ma'am. I'll see what I can do," he says, hefting his kit and quickly making his way towards one of the consoles, already plucking a hydrospanner out of his vest.

The techs have huddled together at this point, glancing at each other, then at the rebels, outside again, the at each other with furtive looks. One of their group starts inching his way towards one of the consoles, keeping the rest of the techs between him and the room, hoping to not be noticed in all the commotion going on both inside and outside the ship.

<WINGS OF JUSTICE> Wrista flashes a bright grin at Kyrin, and then a curt nod. "2nd Lieutenant Wrista Ipex, First Alpha Platoon, Commanding," she introduces herself. "And lucky for you, we brought an excellent technician along. I think he'll be very happy to--" she cuts off as Mitali talks, and just gestures with a wry grin at him. then she turns, giving a shrill whistle to get her troops' attention. Comlink? No need. She starts pointing and barking orders in a voice five times her size. "Menris, Jenkins! One squad each to the power and engine control rooms. Jenkins, try to slow down and be careful this time. After you've cleared those, check main life support and the central computer linkage corridor. You know the drill, make sure we don't have any surprises waiting for us. We've got live fire outside and they can't be happy about all this, so be ready to make a dash for the hangar on a moment's notice." She snaps a finger, and people start moving, save her own squad, here to keep the bridge secure, and of course, the squad left in the hangar. "Sergeant Pelx, secure the prisoners. We should have enough rope, if nothing else suits." She hasn't noticed the tech move, but someone's bound to before long.

Kyrin doesn't have eyes in the back of her head, despite all the other non-standard physiology bits she has, compared to humans. She glances at the techs, all of them sporting the latest Imperial energy binders from the ship's own stores. But even she misses that one edging around. "I am glad to see you all," she replies to Wrista gratefully, but her attention is gathered once more by the sights out the viewport, and she splays her fingers on the transparent barrier. "I do not want anyone to die for this ship," she murmurs, probably heard by Brandis and the nearest Marines.

The techs seem to share this sentiment as all of them but the heroic one keep their hands visible and nod in agreement with Kyrin. Oh, yes, dying is the last thing they want to do.

While the rest of the techs stand guard, the bravest of the lot frantically accesses one system after another, finding so many of them locked out that he has no choice but to go through one of the rarest used subroutines to hack his way through the system. But, luck is on his side, and he finally finds the right set of command codes to get to the right systems. "Yes," he mutters while using this access like a hammer and keying the engines to power up to full capacity, but disabling the control functions to prevent the ship from maneuvering. With the engines slowly building up in power, the ship locked into place, he begins working on locking down the doors to the hangar bay, but only succeeds in getting several of them jammed up, but nothing along the main corridor.

Viper Squadron is smaller than your standard Imperial attack group, yet it still has two flights Theta and Kappa. Bomber making up the Kappa flight break off and head toward the now Republic controlled Imperial craft, while Theta flight, make up of the Mark IIs, lead by Jal'Dana aims directly for a flight of X-wing. The bomber's reaching range, let loose their first barrage, a payload of proton torpedoes. The blue glowing warheads leaving short lived streaks of light that dissipate behind them as they press towards their target.

"Split the formation" Commander Rall directly her flight, as the TIEs scream towards the X-wings, their Solar panels looking making the craft look like a group of flying daggers. Indeed, the TIEs do fly right down the X-wings formation, splitting them in half. This does not go perfectly as one of the Viper pilots looses his nerve half way into the maneuver and attempts to pull up. The sudden action brings the TIE into a collision course with an evading X-wing, the crash and resulting explosion killing both pilots. With out hesitation Jal'Dana radios her flight, "Press on, lets get on their six"

Crystal doesn't wait for them to pull out of the formation and opens fire on any Tie fighters in front of her....not even bothering to wait for a lock from the computer.

<SPACE> On Kesander's scopes, a multiplicity of contacts blooms as the distance to oncoming Imperial fighters shrinks, drawing his attention. As he deftly maneuvers Ghost 7 into tight formation with the rest of Ghost Squadron's Spectre Flight, the Corellian switches his fire selector to quad fire and simply starts firing volley after volley of hot red laser death at the Empire's fighters, his eyes looking for a likely specific target to concentrate on.

<Wings of Justice> Mitali drops into a seat and inspects the console, brow furrowing in thought. Well, this looks familiar enough. Holding the hydrospanner in his teeth, he sets his kit down next to his feet and begins to work, oil-smudged fingers flying across the console in a well-practiced blur. "I'll see if I can't lock up the remote access points first," he says around the hydrospanner, somehow managing to do so without mangling his speech.

Wolf's Darksword Squadron was now in 3 formations of 2, bombing the VSD's main hull attempting to bring the shields down quickly, Black Squadron on the other hand was Engaging the smaller A-Wings and the Shrikes were ontop of the X-Wings. Wolf was concentrating on the lead A-Wing, the two Fighters seemed neck and neck, but as usual, the A-Wing was too fast. Considering the circumstances, Wolf stayed on his tail, pot shotting here and there.

<Broadsword> Without warning, as none is required by the ROE at this point, Lynae signals for the TO to open fire on the VSD. The first volley is a clean shot at the VSD's engines, scoring a clean hit that causes the VSD to rock slightly from the impact. The techs, realizing that they are likely to become prisoners at this point, decide that this is not the best option, career wise. To the man, the charge the marines guarding the Rebels gathered on the bridge. Charge empty handed, by the way, with nothing other than pure bravado to aide them. The tech that bravely fiddled with the controls calls out, "You may have captured the ship, but you won't keep it!" With a bit of an insane laugh he pulls up the diagnostic of the engines steadily overloading before locking out command access to the engine systems.

<Reprisal> "Concentrate firing on the enemy fighters, Light batteries. Communication? StarOp frequencies.", Gorrman is working methodically through the little impromptu battleplan that has formed in his head. "Doomsday to all Flights. Everything within 20 klicks of the Justice is herby declared Death zone. Enter at your own risk. Over.", he speaks, meaning that anything in that zone will be entering the barrage of cross-fire from the Reprisal's light batteries without checking for friend of foe. Turning back to his gunnery officers, he nods. "Heavy Weapon Sequence: Batteries 3, 1, 2 then four. Fire!". With that the Reprisal enters the fray, both as fighter screen and begins to use it's heavy batteries to try to weaken the shields of the Broadsword and then capitalizing in it with Ion Cannon fire, even as the nose of the Reprisal begins to dive to execute the movement he went through with Navigation before, trying to shield the Justice from fire while passing between it and the Broadsword. "Shield control, stand by to bring up Aft shields to full power. Sensors, give me an update on the Broadsword. If they don't pay attention, we might end up with a collision or near miss.".

<Wings of Justice> If the hissed curse from Mitali is any indication, the crazy Imperial technician is right. "Respectfully suggesting it's time to leave, ma'am," he calls towards Kyrin, scowling at his screen and continuing to work until given the all-clear to flee. He'll just change his focus over to attempting to gather intel now, though he likely won't be able to get /much/ in such a limited amount of time. "Engines have been set to overload, and the controls are scrap."

Brandis gives Kyrin a grave look, "I would guess that Antilles is going to have to keep a grudge against you for losing your X-Wing after all." he murmurs, before sliding an arm around her waist. "Come on, it's time to go get my ship. This thing is going to be vapor before too long."

Kyrin staggers as she and the others are bum-rushed by the technicians, and she flicks her wings once to take her to the crew pit, and she scans the panel before futilely banging on it with her fist, looking at Mitali to see if he has any hope there. Finding none, she leaps back up out of the pit and over to the comms. "Doomsday, this is Wings of Justice." As the ship rocks from the Broadsword's volleys, she continues, "Imperial agents on board have begun a self destruct sequence. We cannot stop it and we cannot move the ship elsewhere. All Republic forces, evacuate the immediate area. Repeat: Wings of Justice is about to explode. Evacuate the area!" She looks around the bridge of the ship for a few moments sadly. "Off you go," she says in a regular voice to everyone on the bridge. "Doomsday, this is Wings of Justice," she says once more into the comm. "Please do not let the General take this out of my pay. Lieutenant Sh'vani... out." And then the channel goes dead as she patiently waits to be the last one off the bridge.

<Broadsword> "Incoming fire!" the tactical officer calls out a mere moment before the first opening shots strike the Broadswords shields. "Ooh, so they want to play do they?" Caiton replies, a fierce grin forming on her face before she replies, "Well then, lets spread the wealth around." She takes over a secondary tactical station and trains one of the Heavy Turbolaser batteries on the Reprisal while the TO continues to fire on the VSD, talk about multitasking. But when your ship has 10 of each, it's nice to be able to do that. Returning fire on the Reprisal, Caiton targets the shields of the Reprisal before calling up the Pillager and the Prowler to train their forward weapons on the fighter battle raging between the ships over Coruscant.

<SPACE> Among the Imperial craft now tangling with Reprisal's fighters, Kesander manages to catch a glimpse of one of the black-hued ships. Rolling his X-Wing onto an intercept vector, the Corellian begins to pay attention to the help provided him by his targeting computer through his heads-up display. It's hard to keep track of his intended target because of its camouflage and because of the hurly-burly of the ship to ship melee, but the Flight Officer does manage to get tone at middle-range and squeezes his weapons triggers, sending a hail of red laser bolts screaming at the enemy craft.

Black 4, the newest member of Black Squadron was struck from the fire of an X-Wing. He cursed at his piloting and tried to fling his fighter around towards the X-Wing, gaining a solid lock on him before sending screaming green streaks towards it.

<Reprisal>The light rocking of the ships from the sequence firing turns into something more noticeable as the barrage from the Broadsword comes in, striking the shields, and still the Reprisal drops it's nose, continuing with the motion to perform the odd U-turn. "They are returning fire, sir...", one of the younger officers from the Sensor station comments, and Gorrman does shoot him a slightly annoyed look. Like he did not notice. Instead commenting on it, he is cut short from the incoming news and he frowns, pacing over to the Communication station briskly, keying it personally. "Doomsday to Wings of Justice. Copy that. Estimated time until explosion? Over.", he calls over, before turning back to the tactical display. Well, that ship was aiming for Coruscant. If it takes too long, it might damage the planet or the defense fleet still in orbit. If it takes not long enough, the fighters and the Reprisal will not get clear. "Tractor Beam crews, stand by to give the Justice a not so friendly shove. Navigation, give me a calculation for a microjump back near Coruscant's gravity well. Advise Fighter Squadrons of the threat.".

Unfortunately, the problem with being a tech rushing battle-armed marines is... well, self-evident, swift, and savage. Generally-speaking, Wrista would prefer live captures, but she doesn't manage to get the order out over the heroically-minded tech's shout, and the volley of blaster fire is sharp, even in the noisy, beset-upon ship. After it's all said and done, the Marines make a hasty retreats, save for Wrista, who turns to Kyrin and points emphatically at the door. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, you don't get to go last. Our orders are extraction and recovery. Of you. That means at least one of us leaves *behind* you. And speaking for myself, I don't feel much like arguing about this one."

<Wings of Justice> Mitali keeps typing even as he gets to his feet, face contorting into a frustrated grimace. Once he's standing, he just curses and scoops up his repair kit again, unhappily abandoning the work. He eyes the downed techs for a long moment before shaking his head and hurrying after the departing marines. "No time for arguing over heroics, sirs," he shouts over his shoulder. "Unless you want to try and do it in vaccuum!"

Brandis tugs gently on Kyrin's waist. "Come on, Blue. The ship isn't that far. I'll carry *you* if I have to." He obviously wasn't of a mind to simply leave her here for last, himself, and he gives Wrista a look of gratitude for coming off with a hard line about it.

Kyrin turns to the communication console one final time, giving the estimate to her command going splody. From the time given, there should be enough time for all Republic assets to get clear. The tractor-beam shove will be enough to get the ship out of range of damaging anything other than the occasional satellite or unmanned sensor thingy. When Wrista goes all forceful on her, she wavers... but it's Brandis's words that shake her out of her lethargy. "Very well, Lieutenant," she says with grave dignity in her voice. "Thank you." And with her chin high, her improvised attire sporting two Imperial blasters, she allows Brandis and Wrista to hustle her off the bridge of the Wings of Justice and to Brandis' ship.

Bringing her squadron in back into the fight, Viper I rears up and arches over, the TIE's solar panels shifting to point directly at an X-wing engaging with Black Squadron. Waiting for the HUD to tone and give her a positive lock seems like forever as Jal'Dana shifts in her shock-couch. *BEEEEP* and there is the positive, flicking the fire select with her thumb, the lasers on tips of the wings light up in alternating patters. Green bolts leap from 2 and 4 then 1 and 3, at least maybe she can shake the X-wing off of Black Squadron's tail.

<Broadsword> With all com channels monitored the snippet about 'explosion' goes unnoticed at first, seeming to be nothing more than reports of fighters being destroyed. But when it's mentioned again the Comm officer hails the Captain and relays the news. The Captain pauses, visibly torn between the idea of staying on target and continuing to attack the Reprisal, or falling back to clear the shock wave that is sure to be the result of the VSD explosion. Discretion, however, is always the better part of valor and she issues the appropriate commands to fall back. Opening the link between the Broadsword and the fighters engaging the rebels she sends the warning, "The VSD is rigged to explode. Fall back, I repeat, Fall back."

By whatever grace of the Maker or some other power of the universe, Kesander's eyes catch the oncoming green bolts and instantly throws Ghost 7 into barrel roll that somehow allows almost the entire enemy volley to miss his ship, with the exception of a single green needle that strikes his forward deflector screen at a bad angle, merely making it crackle as the energy of the strike dissipates. "Blazes," says the Corellian, his hand instinctively squeezing his weapons trigger sending another quad volley at the black adversary with whom he now jousts.

Wrista manages to only look reasonably pleased with Kyrin's gracious acceptance of her demands, and picks up the rear, keeping her rifle ready but held towards the floor while the whole group gets moving towards the hangar bay.

Even as the blond-haired pilot lets up off his weapons trigger, green-colored daggers of sizzling death track in on Ghost 7. Kesander curses and makes an attempt to evade, but some of them do hammer his deflector screens hard, making systems status lights on his instrument panel shift to amber and red, although none stay there permanently. Still, it's clear some minor damage has been done. "R2, see what you can do with boosting auxiliary power," says the Corellian to his astromech as the pilot works to stabilize his battered shields. Where the black-colored enemy with whom he's just traded volleys has gone is indeterminate. Ghost 7 begins to shift through evasive maneuvers while its pilot works fixes.

Brandis moves back the way he came to get here, his sense of direction superb, since he's leaning on the Force to make it a hasty retreat. He doesn't loose his grip on Kyrin, afraid of losing her after looking so hard to find her. The halls seem to pass by in a blur, though he knows he's going slow enough to take into account Kyrin's weakened state. "We'll have you home in no time." he murmurs. He hasn't done anything like a medical examination, because he didn't want to undermine her authority by forcing her to submit to one, just yet. There will be time enough for that when they're safely back on Coruscant. And he's right. It isn't long before the Rising Phoenix comes into sight, and he hustles the wounded woman aboard.

<VSD> The warning lights begin to flicker on the engineering deck, pulsing a glaring red to orange and back again, the warning klaxons sounding and every system that indicates 'this is bad' starts to process that message to all areas of the ship. Not that anyone who could fix the problem is at hand to do so. So the engines continue to build up energy, the ship beginning to shake ever so slightly with the tension building up. The techs, to the last man, lie died on the bridge of the VSD. Killed as much through their own endeavors as the weapons of the Marines turned on them. The Rebels realize that there is no good way to salvage this stolen VSD and begin to depart in a nice, neat, orderly manner. Making sure to return the tray tables to their upright and locked positions, of course.

War Shrike swarms the X-Wings like never before, their moral was high flying along side Black and Viper squadrons. "War Shrike, looks like that VSD is loosing it, I want you to watch anything departing that ship. Darksword, retreat, return to the Broadsword. Wolf had almost exited the battle and was stalking in the shadows trying to get a tactical grip on the situation, Black 4 was damaged and eventually that pilot would be dealt with. But maybe not right now.

Mitali joins the throngs of marines piling back aboard the assault shuttle, reclaiming his seat way in the back and hastily strapping himself in. He eyes those seated closest to himself before loosely gripping his safety harness and bracing for another bumpy shuttle ride, closing his eyes and murmuring a prayer in his native tongue under his breath, as much for his Republic comrades as the Imperials left behind on the bridge.

Pressing her advantage, Jal'Dana keeps her TIE glued to the back the evading X-wing tagged on her HUD as Ghost 7. God she disliked the Ghost squadron, almost as much as she disliked most things to do with the NR's Star Ops program. In the back of her mind she knew those blasted little Astromechs were busy fixing what ever damage her shots had inflected on the enemy craft. Wishing she could target just the little droid, she switched to manual fire, and kept the nose of her craft aimed at the Ghost. Trying to make the pilot of the X-wing exactly that, green pulles of energy explode from the emitters and rifle through the dark of space.

A series of beeps and whistles from his R2 unit tells Kesander two things. Firstly, Auxiliary power is putting out as much as it can and it's all going to shields. Secondly, that the TIE that last shot at him is still maneuvering behind him. "Oh, blast it," mutters the Corellian, checking his scopes carefully as he begins to angle his rear deflectors and increase the randomness of his evasive maneuvers. And it's a good thing. Because blazing green bolts of destruction once again reach out to try and touch Ghost 7. Fortunately, all the assault can manage to do is make his rear screens flash briefly and crackle a bit.

By the time Wrista clambers aboard the assault shuttle, everyone's settled and the engines are revving on both ships. "Get us out of here!" she yells forward to the pilot, who was already starting to lift off the deck to exit ahead of the YT. "Fly cover for the freighter, we didn't come all the way out here just to get our rescue blown by some cheap shot from a TIE," she adds. The shuttle swings out of the bay, followed by Brandis' ship, and the shuttle's fire control comes online as they clear the VSD. "Reprisal, this is Assault One, we're clear, coming home with company. All craft, stand clear, the Wings of Justice is going critical. Repeat, stand clear, critical capital-class."

With the Broadsword turning to veer away from the VSD, the Pillager and Prowler continue to take on any enemy fighters that cross their field of vision, such as it is. Providing cover fire for Black Squadron as well, the Pillager alters trajectory accordingly and maneuvers into position much like the Reprisal did, using the bulk of the ship to shield the fighters landing on the Broadsword. The TIE's are landed neatly, though swiftly, as the ships sensors indicate the alarming rise in engine output of the VSD, one of the technicians makes a comment, "This is going to be one heck of a explosion," before getting back to work. Captain Caiton watches the tactical display, counting the return of the fighters to her ship and that of the Prowler, nodding slowly as the numbers add up accordingly.

<Reprisal> What seemed to be an almost calm atmosphere on the Bridge before, is now getting a little hectic as reports are called out in quicker succession: Shield reports, Gunnery damage assessments, Acknowledgments from the tractor beam crews all bombarding the acting Captain of the vessel, who tries to bring order into the chaos within his own mind. "Gunner Officers. I want full cover for our fighter wing. Navigation, angle away from the current course of the Wings of Justice by thirty degrees. Communication, tell Bandit to get going with the extraction. We are not going to wait for them forever.". As suddenly as it began, the engagement with the Broadsword is at an end, as the reports of the Star Destroyer angling away are received and Gorrman is not going to waste capacities on it. The chance for a lucky hit is small and even concentrated fire will not do either ship much good for what time they have ready to get away from the doomed vessel, so the key is to try to minimize friendly losses and give the retreating Imperial fighters as much to worry about as possible. The Fighter Squadrons have been advised on the status of the VSD before and Gorrman assumes he does not have to paint them a picture first on what to do: Get the blazes out of there, or become part of the blaze.

<Space> It will become part of the technical journals of the VSD someday that the engine output and stress ratio was drastically underestimated, so something good does come of this explosion, from the Empires point of view. When the technicians and designers, engineers and mechanics pour of the data, it will be determined that while the engines did overload, and that the output far exceeded the posted maximum for safe engine control, the explosion still came much later than stress indicators had tested in advance. But it does explode. The VSD seems to shudder just once, the lights on the ship all flaring brightly as the power surges ship wide, seeking an outlet for the titanic energy forces contained. But no outlet was available. And nature abhors a vacuum. With a concussive boom that knocks people from their feet on the ships nearest, tosses fighters like toys in the wind, throws a debris field in every direction, the VSD explodes at last. The shock wave expands.. and expands.. shoving the Pillager alarmingly close to the Broadsword, collision alarms sounding noisily. Both ships have a near miss before the shock wave ripples off into space, leaving nothing more than a cloud of metallic debris.

Kyrin doesn't struggle or object to being escorted off her one and only true command. Er, experience is what you get when you don't get what you want... but... she takes one look at Brandis... yeah, she got what she truly wanted, even if the Republic might have some problems with a VSD going critical near Coruscant and such. She rests quietly aboard the Rising Phoenix and simply listens to Brandis as he goes about his work getting them the hell away from the Star Destroyer. She knows she'll be debriefed... at great length... whether she likes it or not. And when the Wings of Justice explodes and rocks the freighter, her slender form shivers, and she pulls her own wings in closer to herself. "A shame... but it was not for nothing," she says softly, glancing at her fellow pilot. "Thank you for finding me." Then her grey eyes gaze out the cockpit of the freighter, where the Reprisal grows larger.

Brandis doesn't really care about the debriefing. His first desire is to make sure that Kyrin gets the medical attention she most likely needs. When the shock wave tosses the Phoenix like a toy, he fights the yoke to keep the ship from tumbling helplessly out into space. It's not until things calm considerably that it becomes clear his ultimate destination is not the Reprisal at all, but the surface of Coruscant. "They'll have their turn at you soon enough." he murmurs softly of the New Republic's policies. "You need time to rest and recuperate." left unsaid is...in the company of those that care for you.

<Reprisal> Pushing away further and further from the VSD, the Reprisal is awaiting it's fighter wing to return, weapons to cease fire after the last long range rounds sizzle off into space, especially as the shockwaves throw off any aiming data of the previous shots. Moving back towards the Defense Line and the Picket Ships that still hold the forward Fighter Screen, Gorrman orders the Reprisal to assume her position again, even as debris parts light up the shields here and there as they come hurling towards the ship, while larger parts are deflected by the tractor beam crews. "Damage reports...?", comes Gorrman's voice, before the camara sweeps over to the Broadsword and her support ships in the distance, then fades to black.

"Blazing Hell!" says Kesander as the light and the shock wave from the explosion engulf Ghost 7 and the rest of Ghost Squadron. Fortunately, his reinforced rear deflectors and his tight grip on his stick prevent his starfighter from being thrown into an uncontrolled flat spin or shredded by metal debris moving at very high velocities. "Doomsday, this is Sandman. Standing by to land, awaiting permission," transmits the pilot, suddenly feeling very tired for some reason. "Request support staff standing by when I bring Ghost 7 in. Got cooked a little when we tangled with those black TIEs. Sandman, out."

When all is said and done, news gets through the Reprisal crew that one of her own has been returned. Much ado is made about the dramatic return, while others sigh and say wistfully how they'd loved to have kept that ship. Too bad, that was. As the Republic's news nets start getting information from official sources and the public is hopefully reassured that no, the Imperials aren't coming to get them. Again. And over the Reprisal's CMO's heated demands, the returned pilot doesn't return to her ship... and who's gonna argue with the Jedi right now? No one sane, that is. A message is transmitted that indicates Sh'vani will be cared for and then will be restored to her fellow military officers in due time. Debriefing later.

As Kyrin watches Coruscant loom closer in the Rising Phoenix's cockpit windows, she murmurs quietly, "I need to speak to the admiral as soon as possible. He must know what I found out." With those soft and dire words, the Republic pilot falls asleep and entrusts herself to the Jedi doctor's expert care.