A Reputation to Maintain

[Jaden Luka]

Pilot's Briefing Room, Valiant

It seemed ironic that, mere weeks after he'd been assigned away from the Rogues, they'd set up shop in his old command. It was weird how instinctively his memory had snapped back into navigating the corridors of the Valiant; and amusing how completely incapable his eyes were of coping with the overwhelming whiteness of the Mon Calamari walls. Fortunately, his trusty tinted eye glasses were on hand to offer protection, as always.

You would have thought that after a few months as the training officer aboard Horizon, teaching X-Wing jocks to be A-Wing jocks, he'd have grown accustomed to the whole standing in front of a briefing room and talking thing. But as he looked around the faces of the assembled pilots - some that he recognised; some that he didn't - he couldn't help the pang of nerves. Valkyrie Squadron and Rogue Squadron had been the units where he'd gone from nugget to ace, and the pilots that flew with them were friends, and equals. On the Horizon, he'd stepped in to a position of assumed authority and respect, given his rank, role, and previous assignment. Here, he was just another alumni, home to roost.

"So." His fingers reached for the glasses, pulling them from his face and settling them on the podium. He fought the urge to wince as the bright whiteness assaulted him, and succeeded, mostly. Exposed eyes flitted from face to face, making sure he could match a name to each of them. There were a couple he couldn't readily identify, but given the lack of flight suits, he made an educated guess that they were one Mr Sanis Prent, and friends.

"The situation is very simple," he said, keeping his voice measured and even. "None of us can underestimate the importance of protecting this convoy, and we all understand how important it is to have the best pilots in the Alliance serving right here."

He was very careful to avoid mentioning either squadron by name; not just because he wanted to avoid offending the Valkyries, but also because he still had a little spark of pride in his older unit, and wasn't quite ready to admit that the Rogues were 'better' just yet. He fought back a chuckle - It'd probably depend on which squadron I was flying with at the time.

"Unfortunately, the lack of activity out there in the galaxy by the Alliance's elite won't go unnoticed for long. The last thing we want to do is arouse suspicion with Imperial Intelligence that we might have something better to do." He shrugged, ever so slightly. "If Imptel starts looking for us, then we become a giant target painted on the side of the Wheel. And the last thing we want to be doing is drawing attention to our charges."

Reaching out with a remote device, he clicked the control that would activate the holoprojector at the centre of the room. "This is Bandomeer: an Outer Rim world that sits at the convergence between the Hydian Way and the Braxant Run." The spinning orb of Bandomeer was overlayed with a wireframe, coloured indicators appearing to represent the various orbital defenses. "The surface is under complete Imperial control, with a sizeable garrison on-hand to keep the local miners in line."

"The space deployment meanwhile is geared towards turning the Bandomeer system into a safe harbour for convoys traversing the Hydian Way from the Corporate Sector to the core from raids by pirates and, well, by us." A smile quirked at the corner of Jaden's mouth. "As a result, very little effort is made towards protecting the orbital hardware around Bandomeer itself."

The holo-display zoomed in on one of the orbital stations in particular, littered with comm arrays and sensor antennae. "This relay is part of a network of orbital and planetary facilities that are coordinating Imperial operations in the region. One of those facilities, on Ruuria, was recently infiltrated by a SpecForce team; and from the information gathered there, we've determined that Bandomeer is our optimum target for disrupting Imperial operations in the area, and for drawing as much attention to us as possible."

"It may not be the most glamourous or heroic of missions, but it's going to piss off the Imps like crazy; and frankly, that's probably the next best thing." He let his earlier quirk of a smile grow into something slightly more like a wry grin, before glancing around the room at his fellow pilots. "Any questions so far?"

[Jamo Jakatta]

Jamo held a hand up in the air.

“Yup. Where's the Commander?”

The absence of Rogue Leader wasn't something that could be easily overlooked. When the Rogues had been summoned to the briefing room, Jamo had wondered if Kelly had shook himself out of the funk that had pushed him into a semi-seclusion from the rest of the squadron, but the man standing behind the briefing podium was not Kelly Perris. Not that Luka hadn't earned his wings, but everyone had been tight-lipped on the Commander's whereabouts and now seemed like as good a time as any to get the scuttlebutt.

[Lucy Gray]

Kylie sat back in her chair. She was at the end of the 6th row looking at the holo of Bandomeer. She was back in her flight gear, which also made her stand out. Owing to the nature of the Rebellion, most pilots who came to their squadrons, usually had their own gear. While most pilots wore the bright orange jumpsuits, there was also a spattering of other colors among them. Kylie's jumpsuit and flight gear were black, like a Tie Fighter Pilots. All her accessories, down to her helmet were black. Again, she had her hair in some intricate braid that gathered at the nape of her neck. Her legs were crossed, but her left leg was in constant motion, rocking back and foth. She also had a habit of biting on her lip when she was concentrating and now was one of those times. The mission itself seemed straight forward and simple. Go in... blow something up... say "here we are" and then get out without losing everyone. The difficult part was getting out alive. If she understood it correctly, Bandomeer wasn't just some tiny outpost in the far reaches of the Galaxy. It was a busy port-of-call to almost all Imperial ships traveling on the Hydian Way.

She looked around the breifing room at the other pilots. She had just come to the Rogues recently, so many of the pilots from the other squadron were unfamiliar to her. Then she turned her attention back to the speaker.

When he had stopped and asked for questions, she raised her hand to speak.

"Captain Luka, what is the disposition of Imperial Forces that we are likely to encounter?"

[Jaden Luka]

Jaden had hoped that the question about Kelly's whereabouts wouldn't emerge quite so swiftly, but he supposed with the tight-knit camaraderie between the pilots of Rogue Squadron, it was inevitable. Luka didn't know much about the "funk" that Jamo spoke of, but during the meeting with Kelly and Leela that he'd had an hour ago, he'd certainly picked up that something was a little off. He'd have to investigate further, when they made it back.

He considered his potential answers carefully, before finally settling on one that he hoped would satiate the Lieutenant. "While it is of course imperative that we maintain Rogue Squadron's reputation, leaving the convoy unprotected while doing so would be neglegent on our part. The Commander, along with Blink, Donut, Juyo, Flash and Cupid have been nominated to remain behind, and continue to fly the CAP around the Wheel. For this rodeo, I'll temporarily be flying as Rogue One."

He hesitated for a moment. "In addition," he added, "Two thirds of Valkyrie Squadron will be remaining behind: only Lieutenant Valx'ir -" He gestured towards Oolan, his Verpine former wingman. "- and his flight will be accompanying us."

The second question meanwhile was far more practical, and he took some solice in that. He'd been warned in advance about the presence of a hot new blonde in the squadron and, by process of elimination, that made this new pilot Miss Kylie Archer. He flashed her a slight, almost greatful smile, before clicking his remote towards the holoprojector again.

"According to Alliance Intelligence -" Jaden loved that opening, and the way it neatly palmed off blame for any mistakes and mishaps onto someone else. He made a mental note to thank Leela for providing him with that little stock phrase. "- Bandomeer is packing two Lancer Frigates and a Carrack Cruiser, stationed at the jump coordinates where Imperial convoys are supposed to enter the system. Convoys can then either proceed to a holding position in Bandomeer orbit for resupply from the surface, or will be escorted through the system to the designated exit coordinates."

Another brief pause came, as he allowed the pilots to process that information, and also allowed the holoprojector to adjust appropriately to his next salvo of information. "Given our planned point of entry, we should be able to bypass the escorts completely: we'll be done by the time they manage to make it back to orbit. That leaves us with only one ship to contend with."

His eyes flicked to the pilots waiting for any reactions to his final reveal. "A Victory-class Star Destroyer, complete with two squadrons of TIE Interceptors. Additionally, we may have to contend with a wing of eyeballs from the surface, if we stick around too long."

As Star Destroyers go, a Victory was one of the least concerning, particularly given its - relatively - diminutive size. Even so, there was a reason that the Imperials so favoured the fear-mongering design that was common to many of their capital ships.

That said, if there hadn't been a Star Destroyer, it would hardly have been a Rogue Squadron worthy mission now, would it?

[Tera Uolmi]

Tera had one elbow propped against the table attached to the arm of her chair, whilst her free hand scribbled notes on the mission. The Victory-class Star Destroyer was an all-rounder, capable of long term solo operation. Reports on exactly how many warships the Empire still had at their disposal were sketchy and whilst a high number had been decommissioned, there were a great many still on active duty, especially in planetary defence roles. Stuck in orbit of the same planet indefinitely, the commanding officer would only have call to rotate in new crew when existing members bit space-dust. There was every possibility that they might run into some old enemies.

“Any intel on the esdee vic? Who's in charge, which TIE squadrons they have?”

[Iyar Thiled]

Joker's question had come straight out of his own head and probably the request of the squadron, except apparently new girl. Luka's skirting around the issue didn't sit well with him. Like hell Hot Mama would sit out a chance to give the Imperials hell in favor of the never ending boring as frak task of keeping watch over the convoy.

But whatever... Commander's issues (a quick glance was cast at Phoenix to see if she was showing any sort of reaction to the lack of info about Perris), well they were his issues. His loss. Maybe when they came back with the thrill of the fight still fresh on them he'd snap out of whatever the hell was wrong with him.

Back to the mission... and the Victory-class Star Destroyer ahead of them all that Flipper could say was... "Groovy." Which was only muttered slightly so as not to make Razor throw something heavy at his head since he let it slip after she'd asked what was probably something actually important to know.

[Sanis Prent]

The drama over Perris didn't confront me much. We were all adults here. If he got his shit wired tight again, good. If not, well, maybe it was time to show exactly who was the best pilot in the squadron and move on.

Remaining motionless, other than to chafe at the starched collar of my officer's top, I stared at the VSD holo with obvious curiosity on my face. I had a rap sheet with star destroyers, but that usually involved more or less running away from them.

Now, were gonna ram the attack right down the Empire's throat. Felt dangerous, but felt good. I liked it when I only felt like I had half the cards. Meant I could probably bullshit my way to a full hand.

"Is the VSD part of our objective, or just the orbital installations?"

[Jaden Luka]

Jaden winced a little at the request for specifics; particularly because that's where the vagueness began to creep into the mission brief, and he'd hoped to avoid undermining the confidence of his pilots with that quite so soon.

"Intelligence on that is a touch sketchy," was the best he could offer. "There are three key systems along the Hydian Way that are under the protection of this Imperial initiative: Bandomeer, Serenno, and Ruuria. They know that we don't have much in the way of viable gravity well ships available to us: their theory is that, by setting up safe harbours in those systems and protecting them with a Star Destroyer, it'll be too much of a deterrant for our hit-and-run missions against their convoys to risk it."

"The entire operation is overseen by a man named Ceto Rübezahl: he's the former Moff that the Alliance sent packing out of Bothawui. He's either extremely shrewd, or extremely paranoid. He has three Star Destroyers at his disposal - two Vicstars, Vigilant and Repulse; and an Impstar, Warspite. The latter he uses as his personal flagship, and he likes to move around from system to system, shuffling the deployment of his Vicstars to make sure that no system is undefended when there is a convoy due."

The holodisplay shifted, showing relative size images of those three Star Destroyers, labelled in aurebesh. "We know that Rübezahl is on Serenno, so by elimination it's either Vigilant or Repulse that we'll be contending with. Repulse is a Type II, wereas Vigilant is a Type I: if it's Vigilant, we'll have to keep an eye out for those Concussion Missiles, if we stray in too close."

"Officially," he stated, attention directing the response towards Sanis, "We're to give the Star Destroyer as wide a berth as we can, to ensure that our primary objective is completed." His eyes sparkled with mischief, briefly. "That said, if we happen to bloody their nose a little on our way out of the system, that's just a happy bonus."

He let that sentiment hang for a moment, before his eyes focussed on Officer Uolmi directly. "Beyond the fact that there will be twenty-four squints launching out of that Vicstar though, I'm afraid I can't be any more specific than that. Certainly no one more elite than the average Interceptor pilot. And on the plus side, the fighters from the surface are attatched to the Imperial Army garrison there; knowing from personal experience what Imperial ground-pounders are like, the Empire would never subject any of it's talented pilots to that kind of suffering."

Hoping that 'the best he had to offer' was enough to satify the thirst for information in his pilots, he swept his eyes around the room once more, looking for further questions.

[Carré Inirial]

I don't like this.

Not one little frakking bit.

Carré pulled her hands out of the pockets of her sleek new flightsuit, a shade of green so dark it was almost black in the right light. Fingers rubbed at her temples before she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Slightly away from the others, she was feeling intensely anti-social given the upheavals as of late. First it was Kelly, who'd dropped into a dark funk that seemed endless. Then it was Yoree's sudden promotion to Rogue Six, leaving her without a wingman and someone who was rapidly becoming her best friend. And now? A mission into Imperial space with a new wingman she hadn't even met yet.

Things couldn't get much worse, she mused, focusing on the details of the mission that were available. Bandomeer was not somewhere she'd been during her time as an Imperial pilot, but she had come across the name Ceto Rübezahl before.

Her emerald gaze was flat and dark as she met Flipper's gaze for the brief moment it was on her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of reacting, so she simply looked back to their mission leader and made mental notes of the mission details.

[Jaden Luka]

Jaden's visual scanning yielded no protests, which was a blessed relief; it wasn't like his own briefing for this mission had provided him with any more answers than he'd already been provided, anyhow. The lack of data left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and as an obsessive over details, that was something he craved. The only other briefings he'd run to date had been training operations, which he had meticulously planned himself; he idly wondered if Rogue Squadron missions were always this vague, and if Kelly felt as gut-twistingly uncomfortable with it all as he did right now.

He glanced down at the datapad in front of him, mentally checking off the items he needed to run through. "Tactics will be fairly routine," he revealed; "Nothing fancy. Oolan and the Valkyries will head in first to disrupt the Imperial lines, breaking up their formations for the Rogues to pick them off." He glanced up, eyes picking out the face he'd identified as their newbie earlier; the distinctive TIE uniform she wore didn't exactly make the task difficult. "Kylie, you'll be flying as Tera's wing for this sortie."

His announcement seemed to amp up the air of tension amongst the pilots a little, making him wonder if there was perhaps more Rogue gossip he'd need to catch up on. He ignored it for now however, instead diverting his attention to Sanis Prent. "Since the Layla has the best sensors out of all of us meanwhile, they'll acquire targetting data, and relay it to the rest of us, so we can launch a volley of torpedos."

There was little more he could say, which unfortunately brought him to the part of the briefing that required him to deliver some sort of motivational speach: something to inspire his men and women for the coming mission. He tried to summon up from memory some recollection of what someone like Kelly, Leela, or even Captain Tyree might have offered at this point. His mind came up blank.

"Skids up at ten-hundred, guys," was all he managed to say. "Lets get out there."

* * *

Hyperspace exploded, debris scattering across Jaden's vision to form the pinprick stars that nestled in the blackness of space. The sudden shift in velocity assaulted his X-Wing, but the inertial compensators did their job and converted it into a lazy jostling of his snubfighter. His eyes narrowed, focussing on the distant orb of Bandomeer that awaited them, a few thousand clicks out.

His hand reached for the communications console, subconsciously flicking over to the predesignated frequency for this mission. Software packets fired up, ready to distort his voice into something that Imperial ears wouldn't be able to readily identify as his own - one of the countermeasures the Alliance had employed since the early days, to protect some of its more high-profile members. "Valkyries: you are good to go," He ordered, briefly scanning the sensor console in his cockpit to pick out the four contacts that were about to move. "Rogues: S-Foils in attack position." Reaching out, he toggled the control to comply with his own instruction.

He hesitated for a moment. "Eyes open for that Star Destroyer as well, Thirteen. Holler when you see it."

[Sanis Prent]

We cut all the bullshit once we pulled realspace, and now, it was all business. Cirr punched the comm to Preset six, the agreed-upon rotating coded comm band we'd keep chatter on to avoid a singular frequency jam.

"Rogue 13, on the ball, calling the battlespace."

Active sensor pings began running up and down spectrum, and I set the feed into all Rogue and Valkyrie tactical sets.

Layla set to cruising intercept, allowing the more nimble fighters to surge ahead about two clicks up in an attack posture. Cirr set the quads to his station, the dorsal and ventral cannons extending from their weapons pods.

The sensor intercepts began pouring in, with fourteen objective targets displaying as visible on this side of the planetary mass. Passive sensors would pick up any objectives in the mass shadow, but that took longer.

"Objectives of opportunity are on the grid. No Victor contact - wait."

Passives began pulling in another three objective targets, and a larger orbital mass, which matched gravitational displacement equivalent of a VSD's mass.

"Victor contact at zero-zero-six mark three-five-zero. No visual."

I cracked a confident smile.

"It's in the mass shadow."

What that meant was that the Rebels had initiative. Even if the Victor was on the move, they'd be on top of the first of their objectives before it was even in the fight.

Wearing a half-headset, I pressed at my ear, as static-laden chatter came through.

"They've spotted us on approach. Heads up."

[Oisin Ocasta]

"Rogue Twelve, standing by."

Oisin felt decidedly awkward saying that; though not nearly as awkward as he felt at the thought that Thirteen, rather than him, was the one packing the most advanced sensor package around. It wasn't a pride thing, or a "whose is larger?" thing - it was just reflex; what he was used to.

Until now, Ocasta had almost exclusively flow reconnaissance craft for the Alliance; most recently, a Recon configured X-Wing, which saccrificed the proton torpedo tubes for sensor gear. He still carried lasers of course, so he was trained - though perhaps not as experienced as the rest of the Rogues - in ship-to-ship combat; apparently, Oisin had managed to impress some of the higher-ups during a recent operation, when he'd flown alongside the rest of the fighters protecting the Wheel to fend off a raid by Imperials, despite the tactical disadvantages of his craft.

In theory, they'd brought him in to Rogue Squadron to plug the gap left by Jaden Luka's absense, when he'd been assigned elsewhere for a few weeks to help train a squadron of pilots, or something like that. In practice, the Rebel Alliance's admin efficiency meant that they'd only actually got around to making the temporary transfer a few days before said pilot had return. He'd almost thought he'd made it through the entire experience scott free, without having to have flown a single combat mission; but alas, here he was, staring down the fuselage of an X-Wing that looked decidedly naked without the sensor probes sticking out of the nose.

Worse, he was paired with a pilot - Carré Inirial - who he'd only briefly met in the pilots' ready room before the mission, and who had spent most of that encounter glaring at him for reasons he couldn't understand. Not that a lack of understanding of women was a new experience for him of course; though admittedly, having a wingman at all was something relatively unusual for him. He remembered what he'd been taught about such things in training: how it was his responsibility to keep his wingman safe, and all that; he only hoped that he could stop Phoenix from living up to her callsign, and bursting into flames.

Speaking of Phoenix; he twitched his stick, drifting his fighter slightly to ensure he remained in the standard position off Carré's aft starboard quarter. He mused, with a brief chuckle, at the notion that he was effectively under orders to stare at her aft; the presence of a starfighter in the way made it nigh impossible to see anything good, of course, but at least he'd got pleanty of practice while they'd been prepping for the mission. Particularly while she was climbing the boarding ladder into her cockpit.

"Victor contact at zero-zero-six mark three-five-zero. No visual."

The recon announcement snapped Oisin's mind into go mode, and stirred up the swarm of little creatures that had been fluttering around frantically in his stomach throughout the hyperspace leg of this trip. He calmed himself by letting his eyes skim across the data that Thirteen was feeding to the rest of them, pretending it was coming from his own ship. Behind him, his astromech - bored of having no proper recon data to process - ran a swift comparative analysis of the IFF data. "Looks like it's the Repulse," he announced to his comm array; a stroke of luck that they'd find themselves going up against the lesser of two evils in this case.

He hesitated as a moment, watching his display as the indicators for the Valkyrie A-Wings spread towards those of the two-dozen TIE Fighters now swarming out of the belly of the Repulse.

Two-dozen. Two-dozen. Two-

He frowned, counting the sensor contacts on his screen. Only twelve fighters seemed to have emerged into the fray; half the compliment that the Vicstar should have posessed, and half what they were expecting. That should have been a good thing; but in truth, it left Oisin feeling decidedly nervous.

"Rogue One, this is Twelve; I only count one squadron deployed."

There was a brief hesitation before Jaden's static and security distorted voice answered back.

"I see it too, Twelve. Stay sharp, Rogues: something isn't quite right here."

[Jamo Jakatta]

Data from the Layla scrolled down over the X-wing's tracking computer, blips of light representing the approaching enemy starfighters. By now, after all the times they'd flown together, Jamo barely had to make the call to Iyar, but he thumbed open the comm channel.

“Ten, let's go. Drag time.”

As an opening gambit, the drag was a staple of Jamo and Iyar's tactics. Both pilots would fly head on at the bandit and as they neared, would veer out in opposite directions. Whichever fighter the enemy moved to engage would break away and when the bandit inevitably gave chase, the remaining X-wing would catch them on their blind-side. It worked nine times out of ten and when the first TIE surged towards him, its engines flaring, Jamo knew that it had worked again.

He swung the joystick left, bolts of laser-fire screaming through the space that his fighter had occupied moments ago. A broad grin cracked his lips.

“Hook, line and sinker – he's all yours, Flipper.”

[Tera Uolmi]

Tera watched as Rogues Nine and Ten jetted away from the squadron, making a bid for first contact. The shape of Rogue Seven drifted in alongside her, an unavoidable reminder that she had the blessing of being backed up by the resident nugget. “Seven, I'm marking up targets now.” On her computer display, rectangles appeared over a pair of TIEs. “Stay close to me, Archer. Set your cannons to quad fire. The sooner we thin this herd the better.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Heads up, Cirr."

The felinoid was already tracking the two TIE's that didn't break on formation to attack the rest of the squadron, and he put up a screen of defensive fire to keep them off an attack run. A third TIE broke from its line of approach and set an intercept, giving Cirr plenty of targets to work over.

"MARRCUS, set dorrsal gun to yourr contrrol."

Slaving the lower cannon to the computer's automatic targeting, Cirr went to work trying to pick one of the attacking fighters off. Sanis helped with some evasives, but the objective was to stay on course as much as possible.

Fixated on the screen, Cirr's tongue barely pressed between his lips as he worked the gun controls, gimballing in loops and arcs to either spray defensive fire, or to line up for a more accurate shot. Catching one of the TIE pilots running the same bank and fade three times in a row, Cirr lined himself up to anticipate, and squeezed off shots just where the ship should be, killing one of the fighters in a disintegrating fireball.

"One down!"

Then, Layla shook. One of the other TIE's managed to park a shot across their rear shielding.

Determined, Cirr traversed around again to thin the herd.

[Lucy Gray]

"Skids up at ten-hundred, guys," was all he managed to say. "Lets get out there."

Those words... said just yesterday felt like a dream so long ago. Kylie couldn't remember much else. She had spent the day working on simulations of the attack and variation that ranged from the Imperials having their pants down to being jumped by a wing of interceptors. The last simulation had really ground them down. They had managed to only damage their objective, and Kylie's fighter had been blown up fairly early in the engagement.

Now it was the real thing. Kylie didn't like it any better than Razor being matched up with her. Still they had a job to do and personal disagreements weren't a part of it.

The stars pulled back to pinpricks, indicating her fighter was dropping from hyperspace. Already the Valkyries had moved out toward their initial objective.

R6-E2 chirped behind her. Across her display, the information, first sent by the Layla and then updated by Rogue 12, the unit's communication specialist played out before her. Only one squad of Eyeballs was enroute to their location. Already Rogues 9 and 10 where heading into the thick of the starfighters.

“Seven, I'm marking up targets now. Stay close to me, Archer. Set your cannons to quad fire. The sooner we thin this herd the better.”

"Copy that Five." Six-EE, what Kylie called her astromech, had already targeted the pair that were headed their way. She shunt her shields to double front for the first pass and linked her torpedoes for dual fire and her lasers to quads. While it would make it cycle slower, each shot would destroy a TIE outright. Sensors showed the one that Razor had targeted so she targeted the other one. They were just out of range, but give it 4 more seconds and the world around them would light up.

"You get the first move, Boss Lady", she said to Razor.

[Iyar Thiled]

As the TIE Joker had set up turned into nothing more than burning debris, Flipper couldn't help but let a laugh leave him. There were two things the Zeltron enjoyed most in the universe, two things that could gave a greater thrill than anything else and most days he was divided on whether turning a perfectly good Imperial fighter into space dust won over the more extracurricular activity.

"You'd really think they would have learned how to avoid that one by now, huh Joker? So what do you make of them only sending out one squadron? Think they're getting tired of losing so many fighters so fast?"

[Carré Inirial]

It felt decidedly strange to be so quiet during the banter that normally darted between the Rogues. But it was disconcerting enough to be flying without Flash that she didn't dwell on it for very long.

You're not being very nice, you know.

Funny how I don't care.

You know its the way squadrons work...get over it.

The dry, flat inflection sounded so much like her brother Pharos that it made her sigh. He always had a way of cutting right through to the heart of the matter and making her see what she should have from the beginning.

"Stay in tight, Echo...I don't like this." Carré said over the comm, pleased that her voice had lightened from the waspish tone she'd used earlier. Joker and Flipper took a TIE out in short order just off her port-side, while Sanis and Cirr had the Layla doing what she did best nearby.

She looked twice as the TIEs approached and narrowed her gaze. Something...no, something was definitely wrong. Flicking her comm on, she addressed Jaden but left it open for the others to hear. "Rogue Eleven to Rogue One - I was on the Repulse less than a year ago, and that's not one of her squadrons. And they weren't due to be cycled out for another six months."

[Oisin Ocasta]

Something unexpected happening? Well, well. There was a surprise.

Silently, Oisin rolled his eyes. There were reasons why he generally didn't fly combat missions: the fact that the brief never matched the actual situation just happened to be the most relevant at this particular point. Sure, when flying Recon, you never knew what to expect. In that instance, it was a thrill. But on a combat mission, the officer in charge would go out of their way to convince you that they knew what was going to be there; and they'd have you so sold on it, that you'd believe them.

Of course, there were only a few ways of dealing with the unexpected. One of those was to explode; and Oisin wasn't really too keen on that particular option. The alternative, which sounded far more Rogue Squadron, and thus appropriate for the circumstances, was just to grit your teeth and get on with it.

Gently, he eased himself a little closer to his wingman's tail. "On the plus side, Phoenix," he quipped, "At least you won't have to vape anyone you know." He reached across the cockpit, toggling the control to set his shields to double-front, ready to face the incoming TIEs head on. "On your five-high, Twelve," he informed. "You lead; I'll follow."

[Jaden Luka]

Finger pulling three quick sequential bursts on the trigger, a trio of dual-blasts from offset wingtips leapt forth from his X-Wing, piercing the TIE Fighter's cockpit and blasting it into a shower of debris that sparkled against his shields as he ploughed through.

A squeeze more throttle amped up his speed to as close as he could get to full performance this long after the engines had been manufactured. As confused as everyone else at the scant contribution to the dogfight by the Imperials, he'd pushed on through their line, picked off that last straggler, and was now maxing out his engines in the wake of the Valkyrie A-Wings. Though his X-Wing put in a concerted effort, there was no way he'd be able to even match speed, let alone catch up; but that didn't matter.

What did matter was that now, he was positioned somewhere between his squadron and the enemy, discounting the - he glanced at his sensor display - seven squints that were left behind for them to contend with. Those weren't as much of a concern to him as the twelve more eyeballs that were missing; the dozens more promised from the surface at some point; and the Star Destroyer that was looming invisibly in the planet's gravity well.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to pick it out against the clouds of Bandomeer's sky. The ominous white spear was there alright, but something seemed a little off; not that he could make it out at this range. Maybe, he mused, I should've let Echo fly his snoopscoot afterall. The recon pilot had felt convinced that his extra sensor gear would be a boon to their operation, but Jaden had insisted that the Layla would be more than enough. He found himself intensely hoping that he hadn't made an error in judgement.

"Monkey to Twitch," he called, thumbing the comm and addressing his former wingman. "You got visual on that Vicstar yet?"

The Verpine's reply came as a burst of clicks, followed a fraction or so later by the bland, synthesized voice of his translator-vocabulator. "Negative, Rogue One. We do however have sensor contacts rising from the surface, and approaching at speeds consistent with Twin Ion Engine craft."

The promised TIEs from the garrison. Not exactly perfect timing. "No further contacts being launched from the Destroyer?"

"No further contacts from the Destroyer," Oolan confirmed.

A low, growling sigh of frustration escaped Jaden. He waited a moment, weighing his options, before he spoke again. "Divert to intercept those TIEs, Twitch," he instructed. "I'll send back-up."

"Affirmative," the Verpine responded, the sensor indicator for his ship veering off in compliance, his flight in tow.

Another glance at the sensors, and a few prods of the controls attatched aurebesh labels to each of the contacts behind him, discerning friend from foe, and Rogue from Rogue. There were still seven of the later, which was a positive sign; and far fewer TIEs for them to contend with. He allowed himself a brief instant of relief. "Keep it up, Rogues," he commended. "Get those squints mopped up so we can get on with what we came here to do. Five and Seven: I want you to escort Thirteen on her run when she's clear. Three Flight: break off and catch up with the Valkyries when you can; we've got more eyeballs inbound from the ground."

He hesitated for a moment. "I'm going to go poke the Vicstar, and see if anything falls out."