RPlog:Deep Space Skirmish

Within an out-of-the-way area of New Republic space, little traffic ever frequents the area. A deep space outpost sits here, only recieving supplies and changing staff once a month. Yet, three distinct flashes of light blaze forth, lighting up the surrounding area for a fraction of a second, a week before the next scheduled resupply. Then, when it has passed, three vessels remain.

An X-Wing at their fore, behind on either wing, two A-Wings hold formation. The lead vessel--Rogue Two--plots a circuitous course, and the man within the cockpit begins to tap along the controls. Readouts come up within the cockpit, and the man, known as Wildman, opens communications with the other ships. "Falcons. Keep your eyes open. These patrols can be long and boring, but you never know when something unexpected is going to pop up."

This is what they condemned him to? The Republic is fighting a war on what amounts to two fronts, and because of a little disagreement with a superior officer, this is where they put Marl? Needless to say the Corellian pilot, known as Gambit, isn't too pleased. He lazily keeps a light grip on the controls of his craft loosely maintaining formation. Occasionally he glances away from his instruments to peer out of the sides of his cockpits, as though his eyes will catch glimpse of something before his instruments register it. When Wildman comes over the comms Gambit scoffs and he frowns.

"Thanks for the advice, Rogue Two. But this isn't my first run, I've done this a time or two before. " His sarcasm breaks with a quiet chuckle, "Regardless of what's written in my record. But for future reference, could we avoid using phrases like 'you never know when something unexpected will happen?' Call me superstitious."

Unfortunately or fortunately for the New Republic scouting/patrol party, in the distance there was a disturbance as a Corellian Corvette escapes from Lightspeed as it begins to slow down to sub-light speed. Almost immediately the vessel explodes in a brilliant flash. Following the explosion three other disturbances exit lightspeed into the wreckage. Malign in his own X-wing, "Shield's up!" he warns flicking his shields on and ducking and dodging over the remains of the corvette, "Target, confirmed destroyed. Form up, active scanners." he says quietly settling into his seat and activating his scanners and sweeping the area.

Carefully he shifts his controls and begins to pick up something on his scanners, "Got something on my scanners, looks like enemy fighters." The Sith Lord hadn't been in an active combat situation in awhile and he could feel his blood boiling with anticipation at the warning 'beeps' echoing in his cockpit recognizing the New Republic fighters. It had been awhile but there was now a chance for a bit of fun. He moves over and locks his S-Foils into attack position, his own ship a much older and forgotten version of the T-65 series, now, but heavily modified and ready to take the fight to them.

Vectus has almost forgotten what it's like to be behind the controls of a starfighter. He's spent the past few months since the battle of AB-345 following Cantrell around, acting as the Knight's personal assistant. It's nearly killed him, having been cut and shot up by a crazed Quarren warrior. He's taken some time off from the Knight to tend to a new mission, this time with the Master of the Sith, Darth Malign. Piloting a souped up Z-95A, Vectus had delivered a few hits on the unlucky Corellian Corvette, watching it explode under intensive fire by the Sith forces. Target down. Mission over? Not so, it seems. The Master's scanners, more advanced than his, pick up some new targets in the vicinity. Clicking his comm to affirm, Vectus recharges and prepares for another fight. Setting shields to double front, he accelerates into attack speed and forms up on the Sith's starboard wing. "Right with you, Master."

Suddenly, alarms begin to sound within the cockpit of Rogue Two, warning of the trio of fighters within the system. A sigh is given, then his voice carries over the comm. "Looks like we've got company." he states simply, his fingers already setting his weapon systems online, and raising his shields. "Let's stay tight, boys. Make this a quick run if they give us trouble."

Then, in true New Republic fashion, Wildman sets the comm to a public channel. "Enemy fighters. Lower your shields, and power down your weapons. This is your final warning." Switching once again to the military comm channel, he adds, "Be ready."

Words, threats, all good and fun. Alarms and whirs explode in Gambit's cockpit. Immediately he jerks the controls off to one side rotating 180 and putting a little distance between himself and Rogue Two - but he still maintains the lose wedge formation. With his other hand he slams a few more buttons and power is diverted to his front shields. "Their lead has moved to attack position." Gambit says as his weapon systems leap to life. "I was born ready. "

Marl becomes focused as his grip tightens around the controls of the small craft. "I'll intercept the A-Wing at your command." He announces over the private frequency. "Coordinates for regroup already punched in, just in case things get too hot." The pilot's voice is calm and smooth, this is routine.

Malign listens to the com traffic and smirks, "Seems like our enemy is a standard patrol." He checks his controls and readouts before accelerating for attack speed, "Pick your targets." he says with a monotone voice before pointing his craft toward the New Republic's lead X-wing. He opens his comm., "I recognize your voice Rogue 2. It has been awhile, tonight I am sending you to the abyss."

The Sith Lord opens himself to the Force and begins to perceive the battle field in a different light. The X-wing twists toward the more modern counter part to rapidly begin closing the distance between them. The Sith's X-wing's ion engines flash brightly as he pulls away from his counter parts, leaving them to pick their own targets.

Malign steadies his sights on Lance and squeezes off a shot, sending a spiral of hot plasma from his laser cannons toward the veteran X-wing pilot.

Republic fighters. Quite the coincidence, no? So much space, yet... Vectus shakes his head and analyzes his targeting computer. Three targets, approaching fast, X-wing and A-wing classes. Their message plays over his radio, bringing a smile to Vectus' face. The same ol' routine. When will anyone ever learn? They're here to kill. "I'm taking the A-wing." He marks the A-wing as his priority target and hones in on the faster albeit "weaker" X-wing. They were still some distance away but that mattered not in space combat. Some major fleet engagements begin over hundreds of kilometers away. Vectus would prefer to use proton torpedos, but, alas, they were simply too far out of range for the torpedos to be effective. The laser cannons would have to suffice, even though he doubted their effectiveness at this range. Shrugging off his concerns, he presses down on the firing trigger, letting loose a stream of laser bolts that soared across the emptiness of space towards the approaching A-wing.

"Engage." calls Lance over the military comm even as the laserbolts flash in towards him. Banking low and to starboard, Rogue Two is too slow to fully avoid the blast. However, the shields absorb the clipping damage, and Wildman continues onward.

Switching to a ship-to-ship comm, targetting the enemy vessel, he speaks. "Malign..." he says calmly, his voice steely. "So it comes to this." Despite the odds stacked against him; despite the fact that he faces down a Dark Lord of the Sith. Despite the fact that he is utterly outmatched due to the ability of his foeman to manipulate the Force to his own advantage, Wildman forces himself to remain calm and collected, with but the faintest quaver in his tone.

"Very well. Let's end this now." And with these words, Lance sweeps in with his X-Wing, coming in from low and Malign's port side, loosing a blast of laserfire of his own.

"Copy." Is all that Gambit manages to get out before bolts crash across the canopy of his craft. A string of curses erupt from the pilot though he is careful not to broadcast them. He pulls back on the controls and his speed dies as he rotates 360 degrees in place and then up and over Rogue two ending up on his left side. "Shields Critical, I'll keep this guy off your tail while you focus on the lead."

Marl gets the craft that attacked him in his sites and locks his targeting computer as he closes the distance between them. The pilot forces his A-Wing into full speed. Proximity isn't terribly important with the targetting, but the onboard targetting jammer has a limited range -- one that is now well within radius. It's saved his butt on more than one occasion.

"Time to return the favor, pal." Marl says arrogantly to noone in particular as he fires a volley at Vectus' craft.

Laser fire begins to fill the small area where the fighters begin to make their points and circle one another in a dance of death. Malign's ship barely manages to duck below Lance's cannon fire as the two vessels zip by one another only to find themselves turning hard to meet again. The Sith Lord re-angles, "indeed, only one of us will leave the field of battle in one piece tonight."

With general ease Malign levels his field of fire again and squeezes the triggers, even till this day it was odd firing on X-wings. He had served so many years in X-wing squadrons, during the Rebellion and then again in the New Republic.

Red cannon fire arcs out toward Lance's fighter again as he levels his ship and then immediately breaks off into a spin to make it more difficult for the New Republic pilot to return fire.

It's a trade-off. Vectus manages to score a hit on the A-wing, while the A-wing manages to score a hit on him. He's not exactly sure how bad the damage is - it's hard to tell during a battle - but he's sure his shields are still up.. hopefully. Well, they better be. He's happy to know that his Master is having a better time with the lead X-wing, and it fills him with some inspiration needed to keep him going. He executes a barrel roll and begins loading a proton torpedo into the launch tube. They were close enough now for the torpedoes to be effectively used, and he wasn't about to skip on using a lovely torpedo. He jukes the throttle to starboard and comes out of the roll, and then changes course to bring him head-on with the A-wing. He accelerates at full-speed, straight at the A-wing, acquiring a lock-on with this torpedo. He fires not a moment after, the torpedo heading straight at the A-wing.

A spin of his own is made, and Lance ever so narrowly avoids the laserfire, the X-Wing spiralling and cutting upward. As Malign enters into his manuever, Lance Corbet speaks up as he spins his vessel about in a high-speed manuever, rolling and banking, sweeping towards his opponent's aft. "You're right." he states calmly; perhaps a little too calmly.

Following after Malign's vessel, Lance matches most of his manuevers with precision. Every so often he is forced to improvise, but in the end, another lance of laserfire is sent hurtling towards his target, and foe.

Gambit's craft gracefully bobs just ever so slightly to the side as the torpedo glances harmlessly passed. Falcon 8 gently moves back into its attack vector and over takes Vectus' craft completely. The pilot pulls back on the throttle and arcs his craft upwards in comparison with his target before throwing it forward to do a half loop and come up behind the enemy combatant. Rotating to match the alignment of his target, Marl fires another volley - this time at the rear of the target. This battle is a little more evenly matched. His opponent seems like a more talented pilot, but Marl's small and fast craft gives him a slight edge.

Which is certainly more than can be said for Rogue Two. Gambit steals a glance from the canopy, just for a mere moment, to catch the dueling X-wings. The break of concentration is momentary, hardly even a split second, hopefully Marl doesn't end up suffering for it.

Malign avoids another bout of cannon fire from Lance as the fight begins to tighten. Even he missed and that was a rare experience for the Dark Lord of the Sith. This was the skill of Rogue Squadron, he ponders rolling away only to kick his vessel around in a tight spin to turn his cannons at Lance one again, "It is odd to fight for the sake of fighting, there is nothing to be gained here, Rogue, only things to be lost; lives, pride." he smiles squeezing the trigger sending another volley of cannon fire toward his enemy.

Snap rolling to starboard, Wildman manages to avoid the majority of the cannon fire. However, the laserfire still roils over the shields, draining yet more energy, though not enough to drop them. Yet.

"True." states Lance over the ship-to-ship. "Perhaps you should stand down, so as to avoid the lives lost." Looping about far out, Rogue Two soon sweeps back inward towards the opposing X-Wing. Coming straight towards Malign's craft this time, Wildman once again looses death from his quad laser cannons, aimed yet againat the Dark Lord, and this time for his cockpit.

That sucks. The torpedo goes wide, missing the nimble A-wing. Vectus mutters a few curses under his breath. But he has no time to dwell; the A-wing reacts quickly, returning fire with a spray of his own laser cannons. Vectus dives, escaping the attack, and executes another spin before pulling up and accelerating upwards at the A-wing. "How long till you're done with the Leader, Master? I'm surprised he's not dead already." Apparently it is Rogue Squadron, the infamous fighter squadron was utterly decimated at the Battle of Calamari not too long ago. These are the rejects they threw in to fill the spots of great heroes. The thought makes Vectus happy as he unleashes another attack on the A-wing, this time deciding to go back to laser cannons.

The Dark Lord rolls away from another close blast and smiles, but only briefly. The high from a good battle had faded from his senses all too long ago, it was only business now. Malign leads Lance for a bit before ducking and managing to get behind him with a few excellent and well practiced maneuvers. The Sith moves his hands over his trigger, "I have no intention of surrendering. I am not the type to lose battles of this nature. It is a long wait for a ship to come and rescue you."

Even now dozens of escape pods from the previously exploded Corvette float aimlessly, sort of adding a time limit to this expedition. How long would it take for the New Republic to respond to the distress signals and any calls for back up? Malign presses the trigger sending another round of fire out against Lance's fighter intent on bringing down his shields.

Falcon 8 executes a nimble barrel roll as the pilot guides the craft out of harm's way. Gambit continues the deadly dance with Vectus as he weaves in and out of his path. Marl pulls hard on the controls and does a spiral, bringing Vectus into his fire range again. But the pilot doesn't fire straight away, he puts the A-Wing into full throttle hurtling straight towards the modified Z-95 as though challenging him to a game of galactic chicken. Just before pulling short, Marl fires off his laser-canons again across the front of the enemy vessel.

Alarms go off in the Pilot's head as he glances at his sensors again. Rogue-Two is taking a beating, they're not going to last long at this rate. Marl's voice calmly buzzes across the private channels, "Wildman, you're taking a beating. Who the hell is that guy? Can you keep her together?"

Another shot rocks in, and this time the laserfire goes straight through the shields--the shields flicker and go out--before rocking into the hull, jolting the XO of Rogue about within the cockpit. Switching over comms, Lance growls, "I've faced him before. Dark Lord Malign."

Hands work furiously at keeping the ship together, and swinging about to line up for another shot at the man in question. "Bug out, and set up a short jump away. Get a message off to headquarters, requesting backup, and inform them of our enemy." A clear shot becomes available, and so Wildman takes the shot. "I'll try to hold them here as long as possible. Just get us help!" And with that, Lance continues the dogfight.

This fight doesn't seem to be going anywhere for Vectus. His Master is having no trouble at all, of course. But that's expected. He had hoped for something better for him, some way to flex his skills. Perhaps he has been gone for too long. The crafty A-wing has yet again eluded his shots; but the Republican can't seem to hit him, either. A standstill. The two continue their drawn out dogfight, trading shots back and forth, ducking and diving, spinning, rolling, to port, to starboard, so on and so forth. "Just sit still like a good boy and let me shoot you." Vectus continues to spray laser fire, unrelenting, pushing the weapon's energy to its fullest, spewing shot after shot and not letting go, even though it wastes more energy than actaully waiting for a good shot. But he doesn't care, he just wants to light up space and hope something hits.

Another evaded shot as Malign rolls away from Lance with a steadied hand. His eyes focusing again as the star field comes back into focus as he was moving at a rapid speed turning everything outside into a blur. The ship's modified engines gave it a speed to outpace the T-65AC4 but only because of what he had done to his ship. The rapid speed and additional armor did little to aid him in avoid being shot, that he relied on the Force and his experience for.

Carefully he comes back around. Leveling his cannons, "Time to show you real damage, Rogue." he frowns squeezing the trigger again and sending a round of deadly fire toward him, "All Sith ships form up. We're going to prepare to depart the system, Vectus take a shot at this X-wing. I am sure you'll enjoy more luck with it." he smiles as he rolls away from Lance to allow the Rogue pilot to give chase.

Marl gets caught up in the dodging, twisting and weaving that he hardly takes the time to fire. Vectus and Gambit bounce back and forth spraying their canons to no avail. Suddenly, the pilot throws the vessel into full stop. Considering the proximity and speed the two were fighting it would be a drastic and sudden change. As the A-Wing rapidly decelerates the pilot twists the controls and pushes them forward, the ship rotating forward and taking off in a completely opposite direction. The blood rushes to Gambit's head and he grows temporarily dizzy, recovering mere seconds after the escaping maneuver.

"Rogue-Two, get out of here. I'll see you at the rendezvous point." Marl virtually sings across the comms before punching in a simple short range jump. The nav-computer takes care of the rest and within moments the small agile-craft jumps away to safety without any serious damage to the craft. Certainly more than the pilot bargained for. It's during the jump that Lance's words finally register in his mind.

Sith Lord? Maybe he misheard. There were torpedos and canons being fired at him, after all. Maybe over the explosions and cracks Lance had actually said 'Slum Lord,' though that wouldn't make much sense either. Either way, Marl goes to the task of recharging his shields in while waiting in eager anticipation for the rest of the wing to catch up to him. What a way to renew his career.

More laserfire crashes into his hull, and Lance is jostled about within the cockpit once again, his head rebounding off the side of the vessel. Growling, the XO of Rogue switches comms back to the ship-to-ship with Malign. "I'm still here." he states, his voice darkening as the Dark Lord banks away. And Wildman takes the bait.

Rolling after the opposing X-Wing, Lance Corbet presses the throttle all the way forward, sending his vessel hurtling forward in pursuit. Once again, a lock is attained, and Lance sends out offending laserbolts in the hopes of striking true for the first time this battle.

Another near miss as Malign ducks below the fire. His hazel eyes flash over his controls waiting for Vectus to come in and ambush Rogue 2 as the A-wings vanish to lightspeed leaving a lone X-wing with a group of Sith Fighter pilots on his case, "Sorry Wildman, but this fight is no longer interesting to me." He frowns and pulls away from the T-65AC4 leaving the battle field to his associates, "Regroup near Ord Grovner." he orders preparing a jump to lightspeed.

Vectus watches as the A-wing blinks out of existence, escaping to whereever it is. He sighs. Well, at least they blew up a Corvette. Can't really complain. "Roger that, Master," Vectus says, accelerating to the jump point. The battle was... won? The Republicans did flee first, after all! Well... they didn't exactly kill anyone or achieve a military objective. Alas. "Returning to Ord Grovner." He pulls back the hyperspace lever and watches as the stars streak by, accelerating into hyperspace, leaving behind the lone X-wing.

With the enemy fighters pulling out, Lance banks hard, and bugs out himself. No more words are spared the Dark Lord. Wildman instead plays his fingers across the controls, plotting a course swiftly, and soon is disappearing into hyperspace, last and possibly least, as far as the battle went.