| James_McIntyre | Date: Saturday, 29 Aug 2015, 2:51 AM | Message # 1 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 11
Status: Offline
| The reversion to realspace was smooth and easy, just the way McIntyre hoped it would be. One by one, the elements of his fleet checked in, as did the flight leaders of the squadrons. Ahead, Molavar loomed, a desert, barren world that was probably a step below Tatooine, if only for the fact that it had a low population. Their close proximity shielded them from the far side of the planet, at least for the moment. That was a relief. Turning to his comm officer, McIntyre gave a nod to proceed.
"Rescue-1 through Rescue-4, begin planetary descent. Gray Squadron will act as escorts. All other vessels stand by and watch your sectors."
The relatively slow and bulky GR-75 transports, running on a crew of two, due to lack of weapons, made their way towards the planet at the relatively unremarkable speed of 20 MGLT. Each ship was configured to fit ninety passengers, but already held a crew of forty per ship: Alliance commandos, some of which had been chosen due to originating from Molavar, or elsewhere in the Abrion Sector. Around the quartet of ships, Gray Squadron, one of two squadrons of Z-95s, flew escort, six vessels to either side of the convoy. Their target was the city of Malcraan, the largest city on the world and a spaceport as well. With any luck, they'd be able to make a full pickup and be away before anyone noticed. Alas, it was not to be.
"Colonel! Contact bearing two-seven-eight. Sensors indicate a frigate-size vessel. Identification is coming up... now!"
The sensor officer's voice cut through the words of the bridge crew as McIntyre tapped into the station. The information that scrolled across his screen was something of a relief. A single EF76 frigate, identified as the Bruiser, with two squadrons of TIE fighters, presumably, beginning to spill from its hangars, was rounding the equatorial curve of the planet. If nothing else, the frigate itself and its escort were outmatched, unless...
McIntyre swore and struck the arm of his chair. One of the squadrons was breaking off, heading to harass the ships entering the atmosphere. It was unlikely the TIEs would prevail, but there was a chance they'd be able to damage one or more of the transports. "Red Squadron, you're clear to engage enemy forces," he instructed one of the X-wing squadrons. "Green Squadron, reinforce Gray." That was aimed at the second group of Headhunters.
"All fleet elements, ahead full and engage that frigate. We don't want it sitting around looking over our shoulder."
Colonel James McIntyre
Alliance Army
Abrion Sector Irregulars
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| Jela_Tarkona | Date: Tuesday, 17 Nov 2015, 1:07 AM | Message # 2 |
 Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 7
Status: Offline
| At that moment, at the rear of McIntyre's formation, dropped out Admiral Tarkona's personal task force of his fleet. His flagship, the Sundiver, an Acclamator-class Assault Ship, largely served as a mobile gun platform these days, although it did have a surface force loaded in it today in case the need arose. The Recuscant-class Light Destroyer Renewed Purpose trailed his flagship, flanked by the two DP20 Frigates Defender and Guardian, and began to launch a squadron each of X-Wings, A-Wings, and Y-Wings, a mere portion of the starfighters it carried.
Over the comms, Admiral Tarkona hailed Colonel McIntrye.
"Colonel McIntrye, this is Admiral Tarkona. I have arrived, and am at your rear. Where do you need us?"
Admiral Jela Tarkona
Alliance Fleet
Commanding Officer, Alliance Fourth Battle Group
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