Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » A lost fighter (closed)

Lynn smiled and shook her hand with a smile, after shaking her hand, making an foreign greeting with one hand. "I'm Lynamaria. Lynn for short usually. Mechanic, of course. Former owner of Shark's repair garage on Oyialel in the Raur system. Recently recruited by Tyron as well." she smiled as she spoke with her odd accent. "Ai-dayana. A pilot? Can't wait to see you in action." she chuckled, as the little scurrying of claws soon came from a distance. Rasca ran along the floor, weaving between people before finally leaping upon the back of Lynn's head. "Oh and this is Rasca. My Eom." the woman stroked the creature that chattered happily, the feathers on his neck fluttering.

Wren smiled, "Well, since you're a mechanic I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other; pilots tend to buddy up with mechanics as much as possible. After all, it your repair and maintenance work that keeps us flying, and it's always nice to stay on good terms with the guy or gal that stops the fighter from blowing up around you." Wren chuckled, and then smiled wider when the little creature climbed up on Lynn, "An Eom, huh? Never seen one before... then again, I've never been to Oyialel, or anywhere in the Raur System for that matter."

Lynn smiled. "I hope we shall!" she said happily before looking to Rasca. "Oh Rasca isn't from Oyialel. That's not my home planet. Also, typically not common off my home world." she chuckled. She didn't expect Wren to know anything about them as typically the plants they were born from couldn't survive off planet.

"Oh, I see." Wren nodded and smiled, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lynn. I've got to go take a shower now. I've not had a wash if two days and I'm surprised this flight-suit hasn't come apart on me already." She laughed, "That'd give the boys something to gawk at for a while." She shook her head, "After my shower I'll head to the mess. I sure hope to God you lot have something better to eat than emergency navy rations." She shuddered in mock horror, "I swear, if I see another stick of dehydrated, gene-sequenced protein I'll go pyscho."

Lynn burst out laughing as she pat Wren on the shoulder. "Nice to meet you too, Wren! Oh yes we have much better food of course! Anyways, I'll see you around." she smiled and turned towards the hangar once more, heading back to start fixing up the salvaged parts.

Wren smiled at Lynn again and nodded, "See you around." Once Lynn was gone she turned back to try and find the shower room. After a little bit of searching she finally found it and spent a great deal of time in there getting washed for the first time in too long. When Wren finally managed to tear herself away from the shower she dressed in her flight-suit and went to find the mess. It took three people giving directions and a lo of getting lost, but eventually she entered the mess hall and got in line to get some food. As she waited, Wren's thoughts turned to the upcoming fight with the pirates.

A knot of anticipation clenched in her stomach. She didn't have a doubt the pirates Tyron was chasing were the same people who ruined her beloved fighter. She was eager to get back in the cockpit and show her new CO what she could do... especially if it meant leaving the men responsible for destroying her ship as little more than expanding clouds of gas and debris.

"Position?" Tyron asked.
"Jumpgate Helios sir. The Pirates are in the next system - Aiaos." Jenkins was quick to reply.
"Status on those pirates?" he continued to ask.
"Preparing an assault on the planet Raavh in the Aiaos system. They won't move for at least another ten hours."
"Good." We hold here and let the men rest. We jump in eight hours." Tyron conluded.
"Yes sir." Jenkins replied, and he picked up the mic to the speakers. "Attention all crew on board. We will remain in place for eight hours. Eat, Drink, Rest. Tomorrow, we jump into th Aiaos system and engage the rebels. Command centre out." Tyron nodded his approval as Jenkins put the mic down again.
"Very well Jenkins, I will see you in seven hours. We will then prepare the assault."
"Good night sir." Jenkins replied. Tyron waved back behind him as he left the room.

(Sorry about not replying. University work came up and I totally forgot about the RP)

Wren had wolfed down her meal; far better than the emergency rations she'd be eating for the past week. Once she was full, the pilot had grown tired and decided to go get some sleep in her quarters. After getting a little lost and doing some searching, she eventually managed to find her room and got into her bed. She knew that she'd have to be fully rested for the time when she'd have to face the piatesagain.

(Also, sorry about the rubbish post. I had no idea what to put.)

The next morning, Tyron got up quickly. "Time to throw more lives away," he said to himself in a sarcastic tone. He put on his battle uniform and ate a little bit before heading to the command centre. Second mate Lara was still there on night shift. "Go get some sleep, we'll take it from here."
"No sir, I wouldn't be able too anyway with the fighting." She replied.
"Very well."

Not much later, a bell rang through the entire ship. Three long tones, the sign to prepare for an attack. Troopers immediately ran over to the transport hangars, where engineers started to set up the Fighters and Transport barges. Several Frigates were prepared as well. On the outside of the ship, the shield pulled up next to the confidence, ready to jump first and deploy shields.
Tyron took the mic in his hands.
"Fighter pilot teams report to - Sergeant Alen, port 1. Sergeant Johns, port 2. Sergeant Will, port 3. Sergeant Liam, port 4..." He went on for a while until all names were called and then put down the mic, watching the commotion in the hangar and hallways.

Awakened by he tones, Wren listened to Tyron's voice over the ship's comm. She nodded to herself. Sergeant Liam was her new commanding officer... She got up and quickly dressed in her flightsuit. She sighed. Well, she'd probably be able to get some new clothes when the fighting was over, and give her a chance to get this old thing washed properly. Wren made her way out of her room and followed a group of pilots to the hangar, eventually finding port four.

Finding the fighters of her squadron and a group of pilots clambering into craft, Wren quickly found free fighter and got in, automatically flicking switches and checking the systems. She smiled as she moulded herself into the seat and felt the ship shudder into life, the vibrations from the engine sounded like a purr to her ears. She felt like she was home.

"Okay baby, let's show these guys what we can do." She muttered t her fighter.

Tyron smiled as he watched Wren climbing into her fighter. "Looks like she's eager and ready to go."
"Looks like it, sir." Lara replied.
At that point, Jenkins and a group of staff walked in, taking their positions. When everyone gave their green light, Tyron nodded to himself. He sent the message to the shield, and it jumped a few seconds later. Tyron took the mic back in his hand.
"Confidence, jumping." He waited for a few seconds and pressed the button together with Jenkins, lauching the ship into the next system. They arrived in the middle of the force shield deployed by the shield. "Engage all systems, Port gates A-1 to A-9 engage."
"Port gates A-1 to A-9 engaging sir." Jenkins replied.
"Squads 1 to 9, Launch." he continued.
Jenkins picked up his Mic. "Squads 1 to 9, deploy. I repeat, 1 to 9 deploy."

Wren would find the gates in front of her fighter open up. The comms system made commander Liam's voice sound metallic. "All fighters launch. Deploy and assume V-formation. I'm front. Yens and Union take first line. Others fall in." With that, Liam's "SWORD" moved through the forcefield at the entrance, two "ARROW"s following close behind. the others around Wren started take off as well.

Lynn was already awake and away hanging from her bed upside down when the com called everyone, she hung there, tinkering with a small gadget before suddenly she heard Tyron's voice. Her room was quiet and his voice thundered in the room, scaring the crap out of her. She fell to the floor, yelping before shaking her head. Looks like she had to get ready. Striping out of her sleeping attire and into her work clothing she ran out her door and down the halls to the hangar. As they jumped, she made her way to the guns. Sitting down in the chair, she looked at the controls that to anyone else would look complicated. "Wow." her smile went wide as she set up the gun ready to fire.

An fierce eagerness burned in Wren's stomach, the same rush of adrenaline, fear and expectation that surged through her before every fight. As soon as her squadron began taking off she flicked at controls and eased her ship out of the Confidence's hangar bay. She was on the right side of the upside-down V formation her commander had ordered.

"Assuming Delta-V formation." Wren said into her comm, remembering the protocols used by her old squadron back on the Illustrious, "Holding velocity and course." She glanced at her sensors, looking for any sign of hostiles, one ear on the comms chatter within and between squadrons. Wren smiled. It'd been too long since she'd been in a proper squadron.

Tyron smiled. "Looks like she'll be fine." He switched open a hologram for the system. The pirates had hidden behind some meteorites as soon as the shield warped in. Red dots pointed out where they were exactly. "Very well. Jenkins, flush 'em out."
"My pleasure, sir." He took up comms. "Message to all squadrons, here's your orders. Aim for medium and minor gun turrets, take out shield deployers. Engage fighters when nessecary. Squadrons 1 to 4, engage enemy target behind meteorite Alpha, sector R-64. Squads 5 to 9, engage target behind meteorite Charlie, sector C-59. Move out!"

The icon with the location for the target as well as meteorite Alpha appeared on Wren's target finder, as well as the others in squads 1 to 4. Liam's voice sounded over the radio again. "Full velocity. Stay in formation untill target sighted. Fire at will when in range." he said calmly, then took off. The others followed his example.

Wren eased the throttle in front of her and her fighter gently accelerated to the same speed as the others, she held the formation as the squadron changed to an intercept course for their target. She flicked through her weapons display, it indicated all of weapons were fully operational; operational efficiency fluctuating well within acceptable limits. Her ammo was full too. Wren eyed her targeting display as she closed the distance between herself and her target. She took a deep breath and released it, calming herself down. She remembered a lesson one of her old teachers in the Naval Academy had taught her. Most of the recruits had scoffed at him, but she'd seen him fly.

She felt every vibration, every shudder; the pulse of energy going from the reactor to the engines, the shields and the weapons, she felt the sensors straining, reaching out into the void for her enemies. With this pictured in her mind she smiled again. Her old instructor had said that a fighter and her pilot were two halves of the same thing; a tool, a weapon, and that to become a true pilot you had to feel the machine around you, understand its uppermost limits, how far the machine can be pushed, how much extra it can give, how far beyond the design parameters it can be pushed. Only by knowing this could a pilot be sure of winning any dogfight. He'd said that even if you fought against the most skilled pilot in the most advanced fighter in the fleet, if the pilot didn't truly understand their ship then they were no match for a pilot that did.

Wren took a second breath and readied herself. It'd be mere seconds before she'd reach her target... and then she'd have no time to think, just instinct, just acting and reacting.

A moment of quiet nothingness followed. Tyron kept a tense look at the radar. Then, t happened. Countless little red dots erupted from the targets.
"All fighters, you have enemy bogey's incoming, brace for impact!" Then, the storm broke loose. Squads 5, 6 and 7 hit first combat. Several exploded. Tyron gritted his teeth.
Jenkins took command of the second half. "5 and 6, move to zone U-1. Provoke enemy fighters. 7, 8, 9, Corner them against the meteorite."
Tyron took up his mic and connected his line to that of the first four squadrons. His voice sounded, speaking quickly but not too fast. His tone was straight, controlled. He didn't show any sign of nerves. "1 and 2, Fly straight through enemy forces. Shoot only what's right in front of you. 3 and 4, cover their flanks. 1 to 4, go straight for the command bridge. Fire rockets on my go."
Lara looked up at him in shock. "Captain, are you su-"
Tyron raised his hand and shook his head at her. No comment.

The chatter on squads 1 and 2 went berserk as the flew in line, straight into enemy forces. Most adversaries steered clear, but those who didn't got caught in the line of fire. Surprisingly, only one got hit as they reached halfway the cloud of enemies. 3 and 4 fell in behind.
Tyron connected to the guns crew. "All guns, fire as soon as 3 and 4 are halfway through."

Wren had reacted almost the instant the targets had appeared on her sensors, she barely heard her orders but her hands were already dancing along the controls of her fighter, bringing her guns to bear on the nearest targets. A burst of mass driver spat out of her gun, the magnetically accelerated rounds hit the enemy fighter, ripping through shields and blasting it apart. There were very few things that could survive being hit by a hyper-accelerated bullet travelling faster than the speed of sound.

Wren barely noticed the blip on her radar that indicated the white-hot cloud of twisted metal and gas that had once bee a pirate and his craft and turned her guns on the next closest target, dimly aware that she was accelerating along a flightpath that would bring her behind and to the left of her squadron as they ploughed through the cloud, right behind squadrons 1 & 2. Another target flashed out of existence as her guns found it.

(Since your information for the Arrow said it had 'guns' I assumed they used mass drivers. I'm wondering how advanced these fighters are, actually, since I assume the weapons pods will be quite small to fit on them, so the superconducting rail would have to be very small, so I assume a round won't accelerate any faster than a fraction of lightspeed.)

(Also, I might be going into too much depth there; sorry. I'm a sci-fi geek sometimes and I know a bit about theoretical tech.)

(I'm not too well informed at how that all works, but it's certainly interesting to read, so please do continue )

"Where the F**k is she going!?" Jenkins yelled. He was about to take up comms to squadron 4 to contact her when Tyron stopped her.
"No, Jenkins. I don't know what she's up to, but leave her be."
"But, sir-"
"No."
"Yes sir." Jenkins calmed down again and just watched the trajectory of Wren's arrow. Tyron looked as well, interested as to what she was doing. She stayed close to the others, but she wasn't in V-formation any more.

Wren really wasn't thinking... just acting... reacting... instinct had aken over, but it was an instinct born of training and long experience in combat. Her body was reacting faster than her mind and, in situations like this, that could save her life. Thank all the Gods of heaven the pirates didn't use AI-controlled drones.

Wren continued pouring fire into her enemies, each one blossoming into a sort-lived flower of fire and death. The rounds were being accelerated by superconducting electromagnetic coils, more compact than a railgun, but still able to hurl the slugs at tens of kilometres a second, of course her guns were like slingshots compared to the weapons a capitalship could mount; a battleship's railguns would be able to shoot larger projectiles at relativistic speeds, which would certainly ruin someone's day.

Wren's Arrow accelerated hard suddenly, a burst of speed that caused her little craft to surge forward into the cloud of enemies; more gunfire, more explosions, a hit here and there on her shields but she ignored it, her rapid movement and her odd course - different from what the pirates had expected - meant that most shots aimed her way had missed, still if too many got her then the massed fire would overwhelm the shields and she'd be vaped before with just enough time to curse the one who killed her.

But that wouldn't happen. Wren's course curved around and through the cloud, tangential to the course set by her squadron's formation, the momentary confusion of the pirates leant her an advantage and she seized it, sowing as much chaos as she could so that when the other fighters arrived the pirates would be disorganised. But the small fry weren't her target. Her looping course brought her towards the main pirate target that had hidden behind the meteorite; a large, blood-red circle on her radar.

She'd been in enough battles and skirmishes to know that a single craft against the larger ship would be suicide, but she also know that such large ships tended to have countermeasures in place; point-defence turrets, or some other anti-fighter weapon. If the Confidence's squadrons simply struck head-first then they'd be shredded by whatever anti-fighter weapons the pirates had. She planned to tear her way through the cloud and then loop back and hit the pirates from another unexpected angle, hopefully drawing their fire enough to open a window for the other fighters, at the same time she hoped that she'd be able to spot somewhere she could do a bit of damage to it.

Tyron looked at Lara. "Prepare main battle gun. Squadrons 5 to 9 need it."
The second mate nodded. "Preparing main gun."
"Jenkins, Launch the Frigates."
"Aye sir, Frigates launching." just seconds later, a total of ten frigates left the hanger. The larger ships split up into groups of five, preparing to engage the two pirate ships. When the first group hit, they started smashing their way through allready confused pirate lines. They easily reached the battle ship and engaged the shield generators, drawing thair main anti-cannons to them.
"This'll give her a chance..." Tyron mumbled.
"Sir?"
"Nothing, Jenkins. Steady as she goes."
"Steady as she goes, sir."