The XKR-151-Beta jinked and rolled, blasting through a mass of Bounty Hunter fighters that threatened to engulf it as the insidious traitors broke through the Order lines, surging forward and sweeping into Omicron-minor in an unstoppable wave of death.
The advanced Insurgent was designed for this, a might prowling cat that un-sheathed its claws as it broke from the cover of a striken Osiris, roaring forward. The Kalashnikovs blaring death as it smote through a wayward barracuda, sending the shattered carcass careening into the flanks of the dying warship.
Captain Ricardo Alvarezs breathing steadied. The Sturmvogel-II Hessian generator feeding power into the triple Coalition booster drives, sending the small, and highly agile interceptor rocketing into the fray. The thrusters firing as it repositioned to unleash a Torpedo into a Bounty Hunter Destroyer that had punched its way through the lines.
The targeting reticule inside his BDI-immersion helmet danced as innumerous ships poured through the jump hole.
There was no doubt in the Veteran Coalitioners mind, Omicron Minor was doomed.
Havana, this is Alvarez, continue fighting retreat, cover the Trotsky at all costs he ordered, scanning TAC-NET and confirming that Commander Gonzales was following orders.
Other Coalition pilots were lost in the fray, his sensors told him that the Social Credit was present, somewhere closer to Minor, covering a trio of transports. The pulse/Razor cannons swatting Bounty Hunter fighters from the sky like flies. Lt. Commander Brooks earning his reputation in the venerable old ship.
Alvarez didnt have time to dwell on what was happening, he hammered his controls, taking the XKR into a steep dive, curling over the bow of a deadly Mako, wailing away on the shields with his guns, while behind him a pair of Order Bombers were lining up to smite the vessel with their heavy guns.
Today, Hermanos, Alvarez murmured. You will learn that Coalition Steel is deadly!
He swept around a clumsy blast of Solaris fire, the Makos captain concentrating his fire on an Order Recon Cruiser that was having engine trouble. A trio of the older style, V-winged Insurgents piloted by Commander Warner and his Delta-Dawgs slamming into the fight, ready to give everything they had to help buy the Order precious time
The small Partisan fighter craft was running on low power, in order to trick the passing bounty Hunter Core capitals in the area, he had been tasked to observe and if possible to learn their tactics and strategies.
Rasputin sat, unmoving in the cramped cockpit, his eyes focused on the radar and on the small sensor device he had installed himself.
Before the appearance he had carefully placed out nuclear mines at key positions in the asteroid field covering the jump hole to Minor, along with the hidden mines, he had placed signal buoys, these would send a false reading onto the Hunter vessels, showing Order fighter transponder and iff.
They would send smaller craft to intercept the supposed scouts..
Rasputin smiled as he saw six signal, 1 Mako battleship, 2 Battlecruisers and 3 Destroyers, along with them was 4 bombers and 4 fighters.
"Excellent..."Rasputin said to himself, his smile widening.
He started to hear radio chatter over the short range frequencies.
"Core-Temproris, Captain Ranger here, to Hunter group sixteen, hold fast. We are detecting Order scout signals in the nearby field, Fighters and bombers Intercept, Threshers follow close behind and backup in case it's a trap"
A number of confirmations came trough moments afterwards and the fighters and bombers, followed by the three destroyers came towards his field of death.
Rasputin began to interpret and calculate their trajectories, the Fighters with the bombers would probably notice the fight signal buoy as the Destroyers entered the field of mines. About here, they would detect the buoys and order a retreat, but then it would be to late.
He began to tap in a number of commands, that would take his Partisan trough a Corridor he had prepared, just in case some survived, this corridor had been booby trapped with mines, a mixture of Screamer anti shield mines, and Nuclear anti-hull mines, it wouldn't take down a battleship, but would damage it enough for him to escape back to the Havana.
The fighters entered visual range of the buoys, and then, the entire field lit up with fire, scorching fireballs that once where Hunter fighters and bombers lit up the hull of the three destroyers.
The three Threshers began to turn around when the second range of mines went off, the first destroyer successfully evaded the deadly encounter but plowed right into it's partner that was a mere 100 meter of it's starboard side, the two collapsed and went up in a searing explosion, the third and last one activated it's cruise engines, hoping to get away before it ended up as it's companions. Rasputin had waited for this, he powered up his engines and activated thrusters, his Partisan was designed for this, a cruise disruptor missile left it's hull and impacted directly on the engine of the Thresher, a second one following close behind, but this one had a different target, a cluster of mines barely 10 meters of the top of the destroyer, the explosion took a huge chunk of the destroyers hull with it, and left it gliding in space, crewmen still floating in space.
The three remaining ships went straight in, they weren't probably thinking straight, only concerned of revenge of their fallen comrades, Ivan activated his thrusters and headed toward his escape corridor, he hadn't activated cruise yet, it was to dangerous, he could set of his booby trap to early and explode himself.
The Battle Cruiser went trough the remaining mines with ease, only taking minor damage, while the Battleship's main cannons powered up.
Half way trough the corridor, he killed his engine and turned the fighter around;
"200 meters.."
Almost there.. The Battle cruisers lined up to start a barrage of scorching lasers on his ass, they had just entered the the "Kill Zone"..
"150 meters..."
The Explosions caused by the weapons of the huge ships started to make Ivan sweat heavily, the Mako came into range.. And a third Cruise disruptor slided trough the asteroid towards it's target, the cluster of mines designed to set of the chain explosion, the disruptor passed by the Mako's starboard hull and hit it's mark.
The Sight was amazing, the chain explosions caused one of the Battle Cruisers to drop it's shields and take engine damage, while the other one began to ripple as the Captain had turned into another cluster of mines, severely damaged they where left in the asteroid field, the Mako left behind to handle it's comrades.
Rasputin smiled as he entered the Jump Hole into Minor;
Out of the clouds came a KSD-C9902 Revolution Coalition Bomber and two 019A Sekhmet Order Bombers. Leading the small fire team was Sub-Lieutenant Daemon Steele. Daemon had been tasked with the crippling or destruction of any Bounty Hunter Warships.
Daemon received his orders. A Mako, along with two Bullheads were attempting to intercept the CPW-Trotsky.
Immediately Daemon gave orders to his fire team "Comrades, the CPW-Trotsky must survive. Proceed to intercept those Capitals and then give them hell." Both Order pilots acknowledged and the fire team screamed past the a Bounty Hunter and Order Dogfight. It appeared that the Hunters had the upper hand in that one but he had his orders.
Daemon caught sight of the Mako, now just 5k away from the Trotsky. He gave the order to go weapons hot and his fire team raced towards it.
Dodging fire from the Bulldog escorts the Fire team landed shot after shot. Daemon Barrel Rolled past a Light Mortar that was just meters away from his Revolution. His ship shook but like all Coalition-made things, held steady. Once the Mako was de-shielded the Havana opened up on it and it was quickly annihilated. The fire team moved on towards the two Bullheads and again, they were de-shielded and then eaten alive by the Havana.
The Trotsky was safe, for now but unfortunately, the group of Hunters that were dogfighting the Order fighters had been victorious and were not turning their attention towards Daemon and his fire team. He knew the Bombers would stand no chance... Unless... Unless he could pull off another Dublin. He ordered his fire team to de-shield them with EMP's and then SNAC. The Fireteam split off, each about to dogfight two fighters.
Daemon began to focus. He blocked out everything around him and concentrated on the Two Mantas infront of him. He picked a target and let off a salvo of EMP's. A few of the shots connected and the Manta was nearly de-shielded. He went for a second pass and managed to finish off the Shields. That meant that the next pass would either kill or miss. He focused as he aimed his SNAC at the Manta. Unfortunately, The other Manta was on his three o'clock and it began firing. Daemon was distracted for a second but that was all it took. His SNAC was just inches short, as he flew by the Manta he could see the pilot. For a brief moment, time seemed to slow down as the pilots stared at each other. Both determined to kill the other. Daemon suddenly formulated a plan. He began to fly away from both Fighters thus putting them both at his Six. This would be extremely risky but he knew what he was doing. Suddenly, Daemon did a rapid 180 and charged towards the Manta. He let loose with EMP's and then a SNAC. It was a direct hit. He saw the Manta was nothing more then pieces of scrap. He doubted the pilot would survive.
With One Manta down, he could focus. This time, he stripped the shields off the other Manta on the first pass. On the second pass he focused. His mind calculated the enemies speed and trajectory. He fired his SNAC at it impacted directly into the Cockpit of the Manta. He didn't have time to celebrate however. He checked up on his Squad Mates to see their status. One had destroyed both Mantas and the other still had a Manta on him. That was not to last however, the Order Pilot had devised a clever Mine Trap and the Manta was annihilated within it. Daemon congratulated his fire team and proceeded to cover the Trotsky.
From behind a Border Worlds Transport roared the Coalition People's Warship "Social Credit," all guns blazing, stripping the Thresher Destroyer that had broken the lines down to a flaming hulk.
"Suck on THAT, ya' dirty Hunters! Yeeeha!" Jayce yelled, as he pulled the Credit hard around, literally plowing through a Piranha that had wandered into the fray...
Jayce swung the Credit about, bringing to bear it's Pulses and heavy Razors to bear on a pair of Bounty Hunter Bombers. In a flurry of fire, he pumped a Pulse Cannon shot and a Razor right into the cockpits of the Bombers, disabling both before they could unleash their Supernovas.
"Transport, to quote a Navy officer, 'Light the pyres, and burn the tires!' Get out of here!" Jayce said into the comms systems over the bleating of a klaxon horn, indicating the Credit was being targeted. The Transports had a straight shot to the safe-zone, completely cleared of enemies... Except...
Except for a Bullhead that had pulled itself ahead of the fleeing transports, and was readying to unleash a deadly Mortar right into the engine of an escaping Heron-class Train.
Jayce knew there was no chance for the Heron to stand up to a Mortar, and that there was no way he could destroy the Bullhead in time. The only way to protect the fleeing transports was the use the Credit itself. Jayce began charging up the cruise engines, and with a roar of power, the Credit shot off towards the transports. The Bullhead released its Mortar right as the Credit passed in front of the Transports, its shield taking the bulk of the blast. The hull shook, and it felt like the Credit would come apart at the seams, but she held steady. The Lt. Commander knew Alvin would practically castrate him for trying something like that, but a few rolls of duct tape would fix the Credit right up.
With the Mortar crisis averted, the Bullhead began to swing around to get it's other Mortar a clear shot onto the Transports. The Storm-class Gunboat rolled under the firing arc of the Bullheads Primary turrets. Pulling a 180 degree turn, Jayce opened up with everything the Gunboat had: Pulses, Razors, Missiles... Everything. The Bullheads shields buckled, giving the Credit a clean shot at the Bullheads Mortar. Firing a salvo of Razors, the Storm screamed back under the Bullhead, which had turned away from the Transports to fire on the lone Gunboat. With the same maneuvers as before, the Bullhead lost its other Mortar, leaving it defenseless against the Havana's heavy turrets and Pulse Cannons.
The Bullhead was obliterated, a black smudge against the green backdrop of Omicron Minor. With the Tranports safe, Jayce pulled the Credit hard around and steamed towards the Trotsky.
He wanted to learn what being a member of the Fighter Corps was all about.
Be careful what you wish for
Trotsky Control, this is Petrovin, Gold Fifteen ready for-
Launch, Gold Fifteen.
Kostya winced; the battle outside couldnt afford to wait for protocol.
He felt the distinctive bump as the mag-locks on the launching rails decreased in strength, allowing the Insurgent to slide along them as if it were skating on ice. Before him the aft hold of the Trotsky split open with surprising speed. The Trotsky herself had to straighten out her flight profile in order to make launching his fighter possible, lest his Insurgent get bounced around inside during a turn. The end result was that the good ship was now doubly vulnerable, and Kostya had no time to waste.
Launching.
He punched the throttle quadrant to the firewall, activating the afterburners. Even with inertial dampeners at maximum capacity, he still felt the sensation of being pushed back into his seat as the blue-striped Insurgent shot along the guiding rails and out into open space
Or more precisely space crowded with death. A light mortar blast directed at the Trotsky nearly blew him out of the stars not moments after he left the bay. Cursing as the wad of energy screamed towards him, Kostya put his ship into a snap roll that just barely put him up and over it.
A quick glance down at his targeting sensors was useless; space was crowded like hed never seen before. It was as if every civilian ship flying about Manhattan had turned into a warship of any number of allegiances and began shooting each other to bits.
Time to use the most reliable sensor then, Kostya mused.
He looked up out of the canopy and caught the distinctive side profile of a Bounty Hunter fighter darting among the glowing strands of lasers.
The Mark One Eyeball.
He let the Insurgents computer try to get a positive lock and ID on the target in the meantime, but Kostya was already well on his way towards the Hunters six o clock. A pursuing Order fighter broke high and away, being tagged by another Hunter, and Kostya briefly wondered whether or not it would be better to go and help that pilot instead.
And then he noticed that the fighter they were chasing was a light interceptor, heading on a perfect intercept course with a flight of bombers, both Order and Coalition type.
Kostya grinned as the little fighter in front of him began to stabilize for a killing salvo; his computer had still not made a positive lock, and the Hunters ship had no warning to go by.
Deep breath, concentrate Pull.
One big projectile, a mixture of Kalashnikov tachyons and Dragunov pulse particles, lanced out at the Hunters fighter. It was almost a direct hit, with two tachyon beams searing along the fighters shields and darting out in front.
The pilot was good, his reaction time admirable, as the Hunter snapped up and to the right.
But Kostyas finger had been holding down the trigger, a second salvo well on its way. The Sea Serpents shields had given way under the first blow, so the second wave of tachyons was unhindered. They clipped the aft portion of the fighter, a non-fatal blow in most cases, but in this instance it sheered the Serpents engine assembly clean off.
The little fighter spun out of control and without power. The Lieutenant did not envy that sorry soul; ejecting or not, theyd be minced in this furball
For a brief moment the world turned sideways as the inertial dampener fought to regain control. A klaxon blared in his headset, and the shield gauge flashed a disturbing red on the left side of the screen.
Son of a-"
Kostya yanked the yoke back and pulled himself up into a Zero-G Immelmann, the tips of the Insurgents vertical stabilizers barely missing the wave of lasers that continued spraying.
The fighters Evade and Respond suite immediately went to work, scanning everything it could to Kostyas left nine, determining the origin of the lasers, and locking onto the suspected attacker.
It locked onto a Bastet.
Impossible
The Bastet followed him up into the climb and fired again, the spray of energy slowly nibbling Kostyas shields to death.
Youre joking!
Not only was the Order pilot committing friendly fire, but he was solidly engaged with him. As a test, Kostya cut power to his engines and flipped the Insurgent backwards, staring the Bastets pilot in the face as he approached.
The Bastet fired again.
Damnit
With a little anguished cry, Kostya smashed the throttle forward, diverted all shields to the fore, and jammed down on the trigger.
The lighter Bastet didnt have a chance. As the shields flickered and gave out, twin tachyon beams dug into its wings, throwing its flight path off balance. A third nailed it right in the center, were the power core was, and a fourth punched its way clear through the cockpit transparency, literally evaporating the pilot inside of it.
The once proud Order fighter exploded into a mini Supernova which engulfed Kostyas Insurgent like a ravenous animal. He felt the slightest rumbling under his feet as bits and pieces of superheated metal were propelled into his hull with explosive force.
And then he was clear, and the bright orange haze gave way to the familiar sight of the nebula, the lasers, the stars.
An ally dead; Konstantin had no choice, that fighter would have dogged him from behind until he was dead
His older model of Insurgent buckled as his shields took the brunt of a Buckshot blast, but the man in the cockpit managed to shake the Bounty Hunter fighter off and slipped between two Hunter Gunboats, they couldn't shoot at him for fear of hitting the other for a split second, giving him enough time to evade that annoying bugger of a fighter off his tail.
His helmet covered most of his head and an Oxygen Mask covered the rest of his face, the helmet was black with twin Golden Cogs and Hammers on the forehead, his black gloved hands had a firm grip on his controls, ready to react in the blink of an eye. Pulling up sharply he turned around and barreled headfirst towards the Fighter that had apparently re-acquired him as a Target, before the poor hunter could react he opened fire with his Kalashnikov II's, the first volley tore through his shields while the 2nd tore into his cockpit, causing a chain reaction that destroyed the fighter.
Cursing softly he dodged right to avoid the explosion and flicked on his Comm-Unit.
"Deltas, this is Leader, multiple hostiles are converging on Minor, pair off and begin Search and Destroy mission, do not let any bombers near the Trotsky, do not engage Capital ship unless you have Bomber Support, stick with Fighter and Bomber-Class Targets, out." he spoke, returning his full attention to flying, making a beeline towards the Trotsky. A pair of Hunter Very Heavy Fighters snuck up behind him and started to chase after Ben's fighter, He could see Buckshot and Reaver fire passing his hull, linking to the Trotsky's Comm-Array he sent a transmission."Trotsky, this is Delta Dog Leader, I've got a pair of Hunters on my back, I'll require close-support from Trotsky Anti-Fighter armaments once in range, so far these idiots are lousy shots but i don't know for how long it'll last, Out."
He heard the orders to protect the Trotsky, and decided it would be best if he got a bit closer to it.
"Bah, im getting distracted by the hunters fighters too easily. I need to make sure that ship makes it out alive." Stated Joseph Williamson.
Thats when he saw it, a whole platoon of Bombers with Fighter escorts. "Bloody..... how am I supposed to take all them on my own." He growled, slamming his fist against his knee. "Well, im no hero but i do know how to play a great distraction." As he set course to head toward the enemy ships.
He switched his comms to local chat so the hunters could hear him. " 'Ey, Capitalist pigs, I got a present for ya, Its really loud and tends to hurt." As he begins shooting at them. "Gotta target the bombers.... they are the real threat to the Trotsky." Thought Williamson.
As he targeted the bombers he felt content that they at least couldnt cruise towards their targets, he could handle them if they were just thrusting. He kept shooting and evading when a loud beeping went off and he saw his sheilds were down. "No... its not that easy ya hunter pricks." He started evading when he saw an explosion in the side of his window. He smiled, "Guess one of the bombers decompressed from the constant fire.... wait what are they?....". He was suprised when he saw the other bombers turn to engage him. "Hah, Objective complete i guess....".
He engaged the overwellming odds hoping to at least keep them off the Trotsky, it wasnt much, but it was the most he could do.
When life gives you lemons..... throw them at your enemies!!!
The XKR was the hunter, a big game cat that prowled the shadows of Omicron Minor. Around the system Bounty Hunters were doing the same as the CPW-Trotsky reported that they were closing on the Alaskan Jump hole. The kind of firepower that the Bounty Hunters were fielding was interesting to a man of Alvarezs years.
His immersion helmet had no faceplate. It projected images directly into his eyes, giving him a complete and unobstructed view of the battlefield. The Direct-Interface projected an interactive HUD over his field of vision, giving him a sense of near omni-sentience.
The Threshers were mostly hulls, engines and guns rushed into the field with the sole purpose of pressing the assault. That explained their sheer numbers but because they were paper-tigers, didnt mean they lacked claws.
It never hurt to be cautious.
The XKR-151 Beta was exceptionally equipped for the role of big game hunter. Fine tuned by Doctor Jerry Xiao Yang and the engineers to meet the needs of the ambitious pilots of the SCRA, and offered that pilot the best trade off between performance and durability. The triad of boosters it was fitted with gave it a definite speed advantage over anything fielded in Minor that day.
The XKR was a Jaguar amidst the sheep, a master of speed and power.
Alvarez handled the controls deftly, knowing how his kitty purred, and that was something only a true ace pilot could manage. For Alvarez, it was his first time sitting in the XKRs cockpit, but it was already proving to be a magnificent lover. The Coalition had crafted a fighter and ended up with a beast that was pure claws.
He brought the fighter around, probing the dark shadows of one of the shadows at the edge of the battle. A Bounty Hunter fighter wing had sprinted that way after they had broken through the lines no doubt moving in to flank the retreating Havana, or acting as recon, keeping tabs on the minor evacuation.
Alvarez was going to pluck out their eyes for that
Something darted. A flash of something, light reflecting off of steel.
Alvarez didnt hesitate, he flipped the safety off of the weapons and opened up on the shadows.
The AK-2s spat out a stream of fire pulverizing the asteroids from one end to the other, the fire chewing up the ancient rock as it went trying to drive the Bounty Hunter out of its hiding place and back into open space for the fight.
The enemy fighter shot out of the blue/green smog, weapons blazing as it tried to end the life of his pursuer.
"Port side power cell: Damaged. Disruptor launcher: Damaged. Kalashnikov II Unit Three: Damaged.."
Positively insane...
He knew better than to leap out into the fray without a wingmate but he had little choice; he wasn't out here to fight. A lot had changed since his promotion to Lieutenant, mainly his priorities. Currently his priority involved the front half of a Resheph drifting through the battlefield. The vaunted cruiser's ability for stealth and evasion proved useless when every square kilometer of space was a fireball.
Distance measured in kilometers ticked down as fast as Kostya had ever seen them before, and he was maneuvering as well. The Insurgent, an awkward target, still absorbed fire like a sponge. Perhaps it was because of the large underslung stabilizers which held power cells, one of which now had a gaping hole in it. Or perhaps it was because his ship returned a Coalition IFF response, a more notable target among the legions of snubfighters. Perhaps it was both. But that didn't matter now.
What mattered now was the OCV Serapis.
The ship had been tasked with the evacuation of some of the Order's most sensitive research projects and their associated personnel. Needless to say it didn't get very far before a Bounty Hunter fighter screen pinned it in place while a strike package around a gunboat bored a hole in its reactor core. The rear end of the ship had literally torn off before detonating, sparing a rapidly deteriorating bow.
Konstantin's task, as an operative of the Intelligentsiya, was to retrieve whatever scientists and data he could from that bow, before a hundred thousand metric tons of metal alloys caved in on itself.
Another Hunter fighter wing appeared, a pair of them barreling in from above; lasers seared unshielded hull, leaving blackened marks all over the face of his fighter. Kostya didn't spare time to swear as he rolled the fighter over on its side and hit the left rudder hard. His Insurgent climbed towards the twin bandits at an odd angle to their plane of motion, throwing off their aim. Their lasers shot between the vertical stabilizers but missed the rest of his fighter.
In a second the Hunters had shot past, no doubt in the middle of reversing their direction in order to get on the Coalition pilot's tail, but Lieutenant Petrovin had better things to do than sit there and engage them.
"Distance to Target Vessel One: 16km"
"Distance to Target Vessel Two: 5km"
Almost...
The lasers started hitting him from behind; the Hunters were making max-range shots.
Desperate for a kill, Tovarischi? Kostya mused.
The Orca Gunboat he'd been monitoring for the past ten kilometers came into view off to his right.
He grinned. Aim for something bigger, then.
The Orca slowed down, bringing its anti-fighter weapons to bear on the shieldless Insurgent. What he was doing was tantamount to suicide, he knew, but if it worked...
Lasers continued pouring in from behind, scoring hits here and there. The Insurgent lurched; damage to the starboard engine.
The Orca opened up with just about everything it had, save its forward gun.
Konstantin smashed his teeth together in anticipation of his maneuver and yanked the yoke back as far as it would go. The inertial compensator couldn't match the strain, and he felt centrifugal force tug the skin down from his face and extremities. Fighting it, Kostya twisted the yoke to the side, inverting the Insurgent while continuing its vertical pull. Darkness crept up from the corners of his vision..
And then it was over. The Orca had shot past above him, its guns spraying up and down in a vertical arc which caught the Hunter fighters in the face.
The laser fire from behind stopped. Heaving out a breath, Kostya wondered if that stunt had managed to put one of the Hunters to an end, but quickly remembered he didn't have the time and shook his head.
The Serapis, a burning chunk of metal by this point, was seven klicks off his nose. Squinting, he managed to locate the shuttle bay, almost obscured by a blown bulkhead above that drooped over it like the petals of a flower. A little bit of ice seemed to trickle through his gut; had they lost atmosphere? He rapidly punched in a command on the console of his fighter, putting its sensor suite to use.
"Atmosphere missing on decks three through five, subsections D and E. Seals holding. 41 possible lifeforms detected."
Well there's somebody left in there, possibly some of the scientists...
Kostya punched in the prefix code he'd been given which overrode the docking protocols of the Serapis. He could imagine hearing the battered doors grinding open, spitting out broken parts as they went. A light appeared on the rim of the opening; the magnetic field was firmly in place, holding in atmosphere.
His muscles still tensed up from the hundred plus kilometers of Hell he had to fly through, Lieutenant Petrovin gently guided his beleaguered Insurgent into the ring of light.
The crew of the CPW Aeon's Fall was nearly as new as the ship itself. Fresh out of the academy, their trial by fire was more than they had imagined, but they retained their composure. Lieutenant Commander Thacker was proud of them, but they had a long way to go to get out of this alive.
Shortly after the Coalition force took the field, they had gotten separated from the main group by a pair of Bounty Hunter bombers. Every attempt to get back to the rest of the group was blocked, and they were forced further and further away. The bomber pilots were targeting their shots to disable the Storm-class gunboat, rather than destroy it, and one of their shots had taken out the comm array already. Apparently they were hoping to capture the ship in the confusion of the battle. Their restraint was costing them, though. These pilots were good, their masterful evasion of the gunboat's shots proved that. They could've destroyed the ship already if they had wanted to.
The Storm's pilot was doing a very good job at evading enemy shots, but he couldn't avoid them all forever. To make matters worse, the farther from the field of battle they got, the less likely it would be that help would arrive. Another shot struck their shields, and some warning lights lit up on Thacker's board. The comm unit crackled to life. The heavily accented voice of his engineer came over the speaker.
"Al-Masri to bridge! That last shot damaged our shield capacitors, and I can't fix it without going EVA. We've still got power to our shields, but they won't recharge. Once they're gone, they're gone.... I'm sorry, sir"
"Damn.... Midshipman Al-Masri, do your best to keep it together. Bridge out."
This situation just went from bad to worse. Thacker thought for a moment. An idea hit him suddenly. It wasn't ideal, but he wasn't allowing the Aeon's Fall to go down without taking at least one of the enemy with it. He jumped up from his chair and went to the gunnery station. He pushed the young officer out of the way and typed in a firing solution, and told the gunner to execute it on his mark. He then gave the pilot some quick instructions. Hopefully the kid was up to it.
He waited a moment more, just as another supernova was absorbed by the shields while the other narrowly missed. He ordered the pilot to execute his instructions. The Storm surged forward on it's thrusters. The bombers fired their own thrusters to keep up, just as Thacker had intended. As they both came into line, the pilot killed the engines, allowing the ships momentum to carry it forward. The ship flipped around and faced the two bombers head on. As soon as they were in line, the pilot kicked in the thrusters again. At the same time, Thacker ordered the gunner to execute the firing solution he had programmed. All four of the ships Cerberus turrets fired, two on each bomber, stripping each one of it's shields. Just as their shields went down, each one was struck by a missile directly into the cockpit, destroying both bombers.
At the same time, the Aeon's Fall was struck by supernovas fired from both bombers. The first tore through the remnants of the gunboat's shield, and the second struck bare hull. It felt as if a giant hand had struck the ship. As soon as he had regained his bearings, he opened a comm channel to Engineering.
"Al-Masri, damage report!" He got no response. "Midshipmen Al-Masri, report!" Still nothing.
Realizing that something was very wrong, he pulled up a report on his own console. The supernova shot had struck the Engineering compartment, venting it to space. Al-Masri was dead. Thacker swore. He hated losing people under his command. He didn't have time to mourn just yet. He had to see to the survivors. He gave the order to take them back to the main body of the fleet.
A moment later, he heard a ping from the sensor station. The sensor officer tuned to him.
"Sir, I'm detecting a large concentration of ships in the nebula nearby."
"Bounty Hunter?" The thought worried him. In their current state, they couldn't afford to tangle with more hunters.
"No, sir.... I believe that they're Outcasts."
That surprised him. "Do they know we've seen them?"
"I don't believe..... No. They don't know we've seen them."
"Good. Collect as much information as you can with passive sensors. I want them to think they're still hidden." Thacker addressed the bridge. "Continue on course for the Trotsky. Modify the backup sensor pallet to send a signal, and hail the Trotsky as soon as we're in range. They need to know about that fleet."
Thacker hoped things would improve from here, but he expected things to get worse before they got better.