Np, you make sure to keep on what's really important in life. Sometimes family is all you got. Be there for her!

I'll keep her in my prayers.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

OOC: In an attempt to restart this RP, I'm jumping ahead until just before the attack, which I'm pretty sure I told all of you, but incase I didn't before I just did now. Righty then......

IC: Jate'kara lightly drummed his fingers beside a keyboard on the command deck. ((OOC: Not sure if I mentioned this before, but the command deck of all Mandalorian ships is deep inside the ship so only a direct shot that punctures half-way or so through the ship will disable it. However, the exact location moves around from ship to ship, even if they are in the same class to prevent people from learning the spot that the bridge is at and shooting it every time.)) The monitor before him showed the flight deck in exacting detail. He could even see the scuffs on the backs of the various Mandalorians occupying the bay, of which there were many.

His eyes flicked up to the chrono display on the HUD (Heads Up Display) of his helmet. 25:23. Twenty-five minutes, twenty three seconds before exiting hyperspace, at which point the Bessie fighters would be launched and the Verburyc would take up boarder patrol. Other than that, Jate had no idea what was going to happen in the space fight. He did know the general gist of it, but he didn't know exactly what was going to happen. Which was why he was listening in on the briefing that Ryn was about to give the fighter pilots with their exact instructions. He pulled himself away from his thoughts when she began to speak; it'd be kinda embarrassing if the commander of the entire ship had to ask her to repeat herself!

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

"Gimel Twelve, green across the board and ready for blood."

"All right." Ryn sat back in her fighter's cramped cockpit, leaning her helmeted head against the headrest. She closed her eyes. "Listen up, all, this is Alef Leader, and we are at Launch minus 25. You've all been briefed as separate squadrons, but I'll go over the schedule of encounter once more.

"Our objective is a Hapan subspace transceiver. Bet and Gimel will provide defense and cover, ranging out to enclose the space around the transceiver. At no time are any of these fighters to come within thirty meters of the transceiver. Bet and Gimel leaders, you will be hearing from me if there are any holes in that CAP.

"Alef squadron will be flying attack and distraction, with the same spacial limitations. The exceptions are myself, Shas'O Vior'la, Cu'val Dar, and Aran Cabur: that's Alef Leader, Two, Three, and Four. We'll be performing the download attempts.

"Dar will make the first attempt. Dar, you must stay within fifteen meters of the transceiver for at least fifty-five seconds. Do not leave unless I instruct you to; I cannot emphasize that enough. The rest of us will stay beyond that fifteen-meter range and try to ensure it doesn't get too hot for you. If you cannot break through that firewall, the entire mission is a bust.

"Coming home - Bet and Gimel still cover, taking port and starboard wings." Alef squadron would probably be chewed up pretty badly. "The Verburyc will meet us; it might get pretty hot during that time as well."

Her voice, if it had been hard before, was like obsidian now. "Understand this: if any of you put one wing out of line, you will wish you had asphyxiated in vacuum; it's a lot colder and quicker than what I will do to you." Shocked silence across the channel was her only reply.

Okay. Ryn couldn't send pilots out like this; they had to be relaxed and ready to react. "Cool your engines and chill. We've still got time to launch. We'll do a final check at five minutes." She clicked off her mike and let out a breath of her own. Just do the mission.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Cu'val listened intently.

"You got, fifty-five seconds," he pledged to follow through. "I'll keep 'er in there until your mark."

After the instructions were finished he began presseing buttons on his ship. He got his special program running.

The program had three phases. Phase one shut down all non-esential systems and transfered energy to the shields. (which he was bound to need) It didn't stop there, though. Phase two, in case needed, shut down all esential systems that the mission could be preformed without such as weapons, sensors, and the likes.
If all else failed phase three would trasfer all energy from life support and back up systems and the automated program would finish the dowload on it's own.

If it came to that Cu'val, though he was willing to die for Mandalor, was not willing to die easily. His armour was space-worthy and he had a few hours of air. He could wait out the attack and the others could ocme pick him up if nothing went to bitterly wrong.

After he was finished he flipped out his special communicator... an untraceable communicator. He pressed a few buttons and sent a code, then flpped it down and stuck it in his pocket.

"Well, yet another run-of-the-mill mission aye?" he said looking over to his rifle. "Sorry you won't get any action this time around, but hey, we do what we must. One of these days we'll be able to live our dreams out...you just wait and see."

He sighed and reclined in his chair, whispering softly to himself what he needed to do to complete the mission. He went over and over and over it in his head, meditating on his movements and what he would do if something went wrong. Specific scenarios replayed in his head a hundred times over as seconds past.

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

Jate waited until there was just under two minutes left until the Verburyc reverted to realspace. He grabbed his buy'ce ((Helmet)) and placed it over his head, welcoming the massive amount of information now at his fingertips. His eyes flicked up to one of the symbols in the top left, after which he blinked twice in quick succession. That opened a comm to the entire ship. "Okay ner vode ((My brothers/sisters/or in this case comrades)), two minutes and counting. I'm not one for long speeches, so don't expect this to be a giant inspiration speech that'll take up the entire two minutes."

"I know don't need to say this, but I will. Do your jobs, cover your vode, and, most importantly, try and have a little fun! K'oyacyi! ((Not literally translated, it means 'cheers,' 'hang in there,' or 'come back safely,' but the literal (and in this case the true meaning) is 'stay alive'))

"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur," Jate muttered to himself as he closed his link to the comm channel. He activated the speakers on his helmet, "Okay, our job is to keep anyone from escaping, so make sure that you shoot for the hyperdrive first. However, protecting ourselves is the first priority, then keeping our pilots alive and then killing the aruetii. ((Today is a good day for someone else to die)) ((outsiders/foreigners/traitors))

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

The final check was over. There was some tense banter snapping across the channels, but the pilots were silent for the most part, watching their launch clocks tick down.

Ryn shook her head to clear it, tightening and relaxing her grip on the stick. Have fun? For the glory of the Mandalorian Empire? She wasn't sure about either one. She was here first because she'd been drafted, next because it never hurt to fight on the winning side, and finally because her position might draw suspicion away from her brother. Much good that had done.

No time for that now; focus. The engines were hot, the torpedoes primed, and the bay doors were opening. At the head of the wing, Ryn dropped smoothly out, the other fighters following in formation. It was a matter of seconds before they were streaking off toward their objective.

"We're clear of contacts," she announced over the radio. "Sing out when we get visitors."

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

MK-44 listened over the com-link.

Bemoning Mumbling: "I still don't see why the meat bags always get all the fun... I'm just as capable as any of them... and if I die I can be repaired!"

MK-44 walked around and "guarded" the docking bay, though he knew there would likely be no need for such guarding.
------------------------------

"Up and out," Cu'val said casually as he flared up his engines and hovered smoothly out into space.

Cu'val looked over to his rifle that sat beside him on the seat. "Sorry you won't be working on this one."

Cu'val heard Ryn's communication and flipped on the com. "All systems go and on my way towards the tranciver."

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

The Verburyc reverted to realspace and a holographic map of the space around it appeared in the basin Jate’kara occupied. He counted two Hapan corvettes flanking…. “Shab,” he breathed inside his helmet as he saw what they were flanking. A Hapan Battle Dragon. “Shab,” he said again before opening a comm link to the fighters. “Okay vode, slight snag. Watch out for the Battle Dragon, it could paste all of you without even breaking a sweat.”

“Overclock the shields,” were the next words out of his mouth. “Take the power from the life support systems. Give the crew a thirty-second warning before venting atmosphere in all nonessential areas. Reduce the gravity plating to a third of Keldabe norm and reroute that power to the shields as well.”

The man responded with an affirmative, but Jate all ready moved onto the next problem. “Pilot, move the Verburyc into position between the Battle Dragon and the relay and keep her there.” Another affirmative response that Jate ignored as he made a quick calculation in his head. Okay, fifteen concussion missiles in the wings, fire two at each ship’s hyperdrives…. That’s six missiles, nine left. That works, I guess.

“Fire two concussion missiles at each ship, targeting the hyperdrives. Fire in a staggered pattern so that one can down the shields and the other can get through. And….fire one of the baradium missiles at the Battle Dragon, target the hyperdrive again. Fire it last.” The affirmative response this time wasn’t as immediate, and Jate couldn’t blame them. He was ordering they to fire over a third of their complement of missiles and they weren’t even into the second minute of combat.

The Mandalorian noticed the two enemy fighter squadrons streaking towards the Mandalorian fighters. “Task PDLs (Point Defense Lasers) to cover our fighters. All AP (Anti-Proton) cannons open fire. Concentrate on the Battle Dragon, but don’t neglect the corvettes.”

OOC: Okay, sorry for not posting in so long and I hope you are all still willing to play. The Battle Dragon is a very large ship that greatly outclasses the Verburyc ((Think pistol compared to a machine gun or something similar, but a very good pistol. ))

Shab:Very, very impolite way to say ‘oh no’ or ‘not good.' If you get the implied meaning, then good; and if you don't, then don't ask because I'm not going to tell you.

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

MK-44 listened over the com-link.

Excited Statement: A battle dragon! That should be a worthy opponent. Perhaps I can use the docking-bay cannons to get off a few shots.

MK clanked over to the cannons and interfaced with their controls. Seconds later he was swivling around, waiting for an enemy ship to fly past the docking bays open doors.

---------------------------------------------

"Gotcha," Cu'val responded to no one in particular as the warning of enemies came over his com. "Covered. Systems calculating and course modified."

He flipped a few switches and pressed some buttons before sending a coded signal back home. He stroked the throtle and headed onward, ignoring the fight and driving single-mindedly towards his goal. The sub-space transciver.

He flicked the ready button on his special program that he had worked up and set it in stand by. He may be needing it sooner than he had hopped at this rate.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!