So why?
Most likely it was because that the cruiser, the Shun-Tahk, a Kharakian phrase that translated roughly into “Raging Storm”, was lying disabled in the field after what appears to have been a hyperdrive malfunction. There was no visible damage to the outer hull, apart from a small dent where a tiny asteroid had impacted the cruiser.
“And when is that repair craft going to get here?” Jeil said impatiently. “We’ve been out here for a couple of hours now with no recovery in sight.” He couldn’t see it, but Jeil assumed that the female pilot in the Interceptor in formation with him was sighed deeply.
“You really want to know?” She shot at Jeil. “I’ll open a channel to the carrier if you want to find out. Go ahead and let Commander Terrs scream through the comm system. It’s funny listening to that stupid, garbled Taiidan yell at us.” Commander Terrs was the commanding officer of the Republican carrier that the two pilots were based on: the Pride of Sajuuk.
“Ah, can it, Jerril,” Jeil shot back. The pilot then tried something that he had tried to do for the past hour. “Raging Storm, this is Republican Dispatchment 00092, Pride of Sajuuk. Do you copy? Repeat, this is Dispatchment 00092 to Raging Storm...” He repeated this over and over, but had no answer. The Raging Storm’s power supply had pretty much been knocked out, as there was obviously no response to the transmission. Either that or the crew was incapable of responding. The cruiser just sat in space like a piece of scrap heap.
Speaking of scrap heap, Jeil was flying one himself, this one in the form of a Taiidan “Triikor” interceptor. If he remembered correctly, he was flying one of the most nimble and deadliest ships in the Republican fleet. This fighter was capable of performing high-speed maneuvers, reverse itself, then use its forward turrets to punch a hole in any other fighter in a matter of seconds. Being the most nimble also meant that it was the most lightly armored too. The small fighter would barely be able to withstand a direct hit from a Destroyer’s mass drivers, and now that the weapon systems had been upgraded to plasma weapons, the little fighter was probably the most vulnerable target on any battlefield. Still, Republicans and Imperials alike continue to push this fighter into production as the second most-produced ship in the Taiidan and Hiigaran fleets combined. The Triikor carried a mass driver ammo reserve of about nine hundred rounds, rearmed by resupply vessels such as the “Heesk” Support Frigate. It was enough to take out an entire squadron of enemy fighters if used wisely.
“All right, pilots,” the Republican wing leader called out. “Don’t get lazy. Stay on your feet. The Imperials have been stepping up their presence around here lately.” So that’s why they were out there. If the Imperial fleet led a strike on the Raging Storm, the cruiser wouldn’t be able to defend itself well with the power malfunction it had suffered. Jeil had never anticipated an Imperial strike out here near Republican space. They weren’t that stupid or suicidal, though they had in past few years launched several carrier groups into the Republic’s 5 light-year buffer zone. A combined Hiigaran-Taiidan defensive force had pushed back at least three invasions so far.
Just as Jeil started to get comfortable, an anomalous blare began to whine in his cockpit, alerting him to the detection of hostile vessels.
“Hold on, wait!” Jerril shouted through over the channel. “We’ve got an incoming battle group... Imperial configuration! Repeat, two Imperial Frigates and a wave of fighters are inbound!” Jeil rushed to his controls and, pressing a small blue button, powered the fighter up. He immediately took the joystick and slammed it downwards, sending his fighter into a steep climb, up and away from the Raging Storm. He saw his first target easily: a “Kaark” class bomber was inbound for the cruiser and had foolishly split formation from the other ships. Jeil’s targeting control systems determined the bomber as a threat, and thus showed a flashing red blip on the radar screen of the fighter’s Heads Up Display. Jeil set his fighter up for an attack run, aiming for the primarily sensitive spot in the Kaark’s plating: the plasma conducts for the bomber’s plasma warheads. A detonation there would send the small ship into a fireball the size of a quarter of a frigate. When Jeil closed to 30 meters of the bomber, a female voice echoed through the cockpit: “Target in range. Accuracy: 50%.” So, he had half a chance of hitting the ship and half a chance of not. I’d prefer hitting this slippery bastard before he gets to the cruiser. Jeil pressed down on the trigger on his joystick, sending dozens of mass driver rounds screaming at the bomber within milliseconds. The pilot of the Kaark responded by sending his bomber into a tight spin downward, a dangerous maneuver in a ship like that. The stress from the movement would tear the ship apart.
As usual, an impatient Jeil didn’t wait as he began his pursuit. Immediately diving and closing in on the bomber, he reopened fire, this time hitting the delicate engines. Situated right there was the volatile reactor core of any fighter or corvette, and even though the armor would generally repel most incoming fire, a direct hit in the reactor would cause an instant power spike that would overload the fusion systems and send a pilot to his next life. Which it did. Jeil had hit right on the mark, and the next thing he did was fly right through the fireball left behind by the exploding bomber. “I got ‘em! I got ‘em!” He cheered through the comm system. “Bandit down!”
“Beautiful kill, sir!” One of the other pilots in Jeil’s squad congratulated him. After spinning his fighter around in a victory dance, Jeil identified his next target: a Triikor interceptor, the same class as his ship. However, the pilot had already identified Jeil as an eligible target and was closing just as fast. The Imperial fighter opened fire, landing a few critical shots on Jeil’s fighter. “Warning! Warning! Incoming projectile fire! Warning!” The computer informed Jeil in harmony with the alarms. Jeil immediately returned fire, impacting the Triikor in the cockpit area. The Imperial fighter was still closing with weapons hot, firing even more furiously. Jeil immediately sent his fighter into evasive maneuvers, spinning around and banking left and right, not turning around or curving, however. “7 meters from object.” The computer reported. “6...5...4..3...” As soon as the alarm sounded, Jeil dived sharply and attempted a high-risk maneuver that few other pilots would attempt. The very second after he dived, he immediately turned his fighter around, located the Imperial Triikor in a millisecond, and fired. The mass driver rounds pierced the interceptor’s light armor, and sent the fighter into a violent spin. The force of the spin and shaking split the Triikor in two, the cockpit half exploding in a small burst of fire, the other half leaving a fireball much like the bomber’s fuselage left behind.
Jeil felt proud of himself. Two Imperials down in a matter of minutes. I’m on a roll here. Before he could engage another target, a distress call roared over the comm system: “Can one of you flyboys gimme some cover!?” It was Jerril. He had left her at the hands of an Imperial fighter, closing fast and staying tightly on her tail. Jeil immediately located both Jerril’s ship, then the fighter attacking her. On my way. He put on a burst of engines, igniting a small reserve of plasma in his conduits and sending his fighter into incredible speeds. When the force of the ignition died down, he found himself within firing range of the interceptor, but developed a different tactic. If I could just get Jerril in front of me. He hit his engines and soared upwards, far past Jerril and the Imperial interceptor, then spun around, positioning himself directly in front of his ally’s fighter at a 21 meter distance. Jeil targeted the pursuing Triikor, and, rolling as Jerril went by, pressed his trigger down hard. The resulting burst of mass driver sound impacted the fighter right in the cockpit. The kinetic armor of even the interceptor couldn’t repel the dozens of round impacting at the single point that it did. The enemy fighter went up in a roar of flames and finally burst apart.
“Good work, pilot,” Jerril thanked Jeil indirectly. “Nice shot.” Jeil had no time to pay attention, as he had already locked on to the nearest frigate. It was Sajuuk-Cor class, which translates into “God’s Wrath”. Because this vessel was Imperial, it was missing a Hiigaran translation of the ship’s name, leaving it unidentifiable to Hiigaran crews and pilots, even though the Republicans could probably translate it. It was written in Taiidani, after all.
Idiot. There are more important things then the name right now. The pressing concern at the moment was that Jeil had to find a way to destroy the frigate both without the cruiser’s ion cannon support and the fact that a fighter has a pretty minimal chance of taking out a frigate on its own, especially an interceptor. Speaking of interceptors, Jeil’s ammunition supply had just dropped to 672 after the three previous engagements. If he had any slight chance of taking that ship out, he would either need capital ship support, bomber support, or a full load of ammo. And he didn’t have any of them. The other pressing matter was that the two frigates were nearly in range of the Raging Storm, and once they fired their ion cannons, the force would rip the ship apart after a few critical hits. And Jeil certainly didn’t want that to happen, now did he?
Jeil quickly devised a solution in his head. Suicide... He thought of the next easiest way to gut a frigate: full ramming speed! At the very same moment, another Taiidan Triikor closed in on his tail, firing rapidly but aimlessly at the young Hiigaran pilot. Just what I need. Jeil sent his fighter up into an upwards climb away and above the frigate he had targeted. Lesse if you’re as stupid as I hope you are. Making a few slight adjustments, Jeil sent his fighter straight into the light of the nearby sun, nearly blinding himself and the pursuing pilot. The Hiigaran pilot quickly shut down all of his power systems, leaving him vulnerable to only heat-seeking trackers. The sun was the second defense. With the Imperial fighter both blinded and unable to locate the Triikor by sight or radar, he would have no choice but to break off. Jeil positioned himself just to make himself above and behind the Imperial fighter at a sort of a 6 o’ clock position, the optimum attack position for any fighter. Except Jeil didn’t want to kill that fighter just yet. Live my little fighter... live! He repowered up his ship, hearing the same clutter and rumble from the back again. After a swift elbow butt near the rear of the cockpit, his ship sprung to life and Jeil immediately put himself in pursue of the Imperial fighter. He let out a few rounds from his gun, hoping to hit the Triikor in the stabilizers.
Which he did. Very efficiently. The wounded fighter spun out of control and straight towards a certain target: the Sajuuk-Cor that Jeil had targeted. Comon... comon... The fighter impacted in just the right place: the bridge of the frigate. Hopefully, the resulting crash and explosion would shut the frigate down for good, even if it didn’t destroy it completely. Jeil’s plan went accordingly, as the Triikor exploded, more than likely vaporizing the instruments on the bridge and the crew at the same time. As if in a death throe, the frigate twisted to its starboard, fire pouring out of its bridge. The explosion had also changed another factor. The Sajuuk-Cor began to shift off-course from the cruiser and into the blackness of space surrounding them. That’s the way to skin a cat. One frigate down, one to go. The other frigate was now dangerously close to the Raging Storm, almost within firing range, perhaps. Desperately thinking of a plan, one of the lessons from the Academy popped into his head. He remembered being in a classroom with a retired Manaani pilot giving them lessons on the parts of a standard Hiigaran and Taiidan fighter. There he had recalled the tertiary fuel pods being mentioned, and that there was always a way to jettison them to a Support Frigate for refueling.
Sure hope this works. Jeil waited for a moment as the frigate fired its primary beam weapon at the cruiser, the deadly blue beam impacting the cruiser on its port side. When he saw the beam power down, he pulled right in front of the appendage that sent the weapon in its designated direction. He quickly located the green button with TERTIARY FUEL POD JETTISON, mumbled a few quick words in his native language, then pressed it. He could feel the bump as two fuel pods were ejected from the rear, and straight into the frigates main cannon.
“Pilot, what in Sajuuk’s name are you doing?” Jerril called from her cockpit. “Get away from there!”
I’m getting there Jeil said to himself. He immediately flew his fighter out of the beam’s path. 30 meters... 40 meters... 45! He was 45 meters away from the frigate, the safest distance from the blast. The familiar hum of the particle accelerator roared through space. This’ll be your last. The blue beam fired at the Raging Storm, the captain too late to realize what Jeil had done. The fuel pods had parked themselves right in front of the exit point for the beam, and the weapon’s force broke the pods apart and ignited the delicate fuel. The blast initially only cut the beam’s focus arms off, then about ten seconds later, ruptured the particle accelerator, vaporizing the frigate in a matter of seconds. “Eat that, you slimy...” Jeil’s own words were cut off by the rousing cheers from his Hiigaran and Republican wingmates.
The victory cries carried on as Jeil watched what remained of the frigate float through space.
There was another familiar sight in the immediate vicinity, this time a hyperspace signature. As the vessel emerged, the configuration of a Saarkin-Cho class carrier slipped out. There was a Hiigaran translation on the starboard side of the vessel: Pride of Sajuuk. So this was the recovery ship Jeil had been waiting for.
“Pride of Sajuuk to Dispatchment 10092. Repeat, Pride of Sajuuk to Dispatch...” Jeil shut off the comm system and merely set his ship on auto pilot for the docking bay. Mission accomplished.
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Originally posted by nuclear1 Every Hiigaran and Republican fleet commander knew that the new Qwaar-Jets had the newest plasma weaponry implicated in its once mass-driver turrets, making it impenetrable to fighter attacks.