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For those first fourteen minutes, Mynock Squadron, along with the majority of the able TIE squadrons ran perimeters of the task force.

That all changed when the Tector and it's line arrived. Picking up the bogies on his own radar, Xaver switched to the command frequency. "Resolve, this is Mynock Leader. Orders, or shall we just continue running the defensive perimeter?"

The Escort Carrier was known in the Imperial Military as a flying box. Now as it launched a pair of starfighter squadrons that box suddenly found itself facing a withering volley of turbolaser fire. The front shield that protected the hangar suddenly evaporated and the launch system was exposed to lethal barrages of plasma. The bay flashed then flared as the turbolasers ripped apart the starfighter launch system and set the starfighter fuel system afire. Immediately the boat began to turn away as internal explosions tore at the hull.

The lead starfighter squadron she'd launched vectored itself toward the Resolve and on scanners the double-hulled outline of TIE Bombers sent chills down the spine of the Resolve's senor operators as their displays detected a dozen missile painting sensors attempting to lock on. Behind them a battered group of seven TIE/Lns formed up in a screening pattern round the bombers.

Onboard the Scutarii Vash hammered the side of his command chair in frustration. "Helm, roll for edge on fire on the Resolve. Send the Corvettes after that damn Carrack."

* * *

"Guns, cease fire. Helm, put the Scutarii on our nose, and bring us to flank speed." She braced herself against a bulkhead as the first wave of turbolaser fire washed across the forward shield. "Gunnery, target the Scutarii and flight control, intercept those bombers."

"Roger that. Mynock Squadron, stay tight. Pick your targets, and break up only if you have to. We'll last longer if we stay in formation."

Receiving affirmatives from his two wingmen, Xaver headed diractly for the bombers. The XG-1s luckily had the shields and hull to withstand a rush, unlike the smaller, practically undefended TIEs.

A few moments later, they were in the theater, and all three boats confirmed locks on the bombers. "Firing homing ordinances."

Another button snap, and each Star Wing let loose a single missle, each one heading to a bomber.

The TIE/sa Bombers accelerated, as the first missile closed a chorus of sparks shot from behind the lead bomber. These were Chaff emissions, ionized particles dropped by a starfighter and designed to deflect the blast away from the ship. The warhead exploded spinning the lead bomber but failing to destroy it. Another warhead missed as the second bomber pilot suddenly juked at the last second, making the missile careen past and begin a wide turn attempting to reacquire.

The third bomber wasn't so lucky. He'd tried to stick with his section leader when he juked, but that had left him wide open to the last missile fired by the third assault gunboat. The warhead smashed into the bomber detonating instantly and the proton torpedoes she'd been laden down with cooked off singeing a fourth bomber.

Then the TIE escorts turned to the assault gunboats and came screaming in pulling in behind the slow armored craft and opening up with their twin laser cannons.

A coughing fit brought Cassandra back to consciousness, slowly the world around her faded from blackness to just a blurry haze, and she would swear that her head was about to burst from the noise ringing in her ears. Bit by bit the world came into focus as she coughed again; pulling her hand away from her mouth, she blinked her magenta eyes as she stared at the blood splattered across her palm, the binder cuffs clicking on her wrist. She was kneeling on the floor leaning up against one wall, her other hand still clutching the chinstrap of a once white helmet now stained red.

Several bodies lay strewn about her, some in expanding pools of blood, others lay with eyes still open in the eternal empty stare of the dead. The ship still seemed to be in a state of chaos, but at least the fighting had move on from her area. Emergency lights bathed the pilots’ locker room with a sickening red glow.

Commands echoed through out the ship and she realized that it had been the order for star fighter to prep for launch that had roused her. Leaning heavly upon the wall, she gathered herself and stood up, the helmet clattering free from her non-existent grasp. Searing pain shot up her arm from shattered fingers, causing her to inhale sharply and she cringed once more.

Gingerly she reached to her side, the maniacal clinking on her wrist and her fingers found the cause of the stabbing pain at every breath she took. Drakes’ boot knife was protruding from between two of her ribs, a result of his flailing as Cassandra had concaved his head in with one of the stormtroopers helmets. It was the very knife her wing-leader had used to split her body-glove from collarbone to pelvis, leaving a thin line of crimson on her torso to mark the blade tips path.

Step by step she made her way towards the hatch, her good hand braced against the wall as she found the her depth perception was off, most likely due to on eye swollen shut from receiving a E-11 blaster butt to the face. Drake and his cronies had jumped Cassandra as she had been changing into her flight-suit with sadistic thoughts running through their heads. They had come in as fast as any starfighter, breaking her nose and splitting her lip in their first attack, and as her eyes began to tear up one of them had attempted to slap a pair of binders on her.

That’s when the real fight started, the entire encounter had taken only seconds and was still a blurred out memory as Cassandra had shown her fellow pilot and his trooper escort the finer points of hand-to hand combat. Reaching out to open the hatch with her good arm, fingers attached to bloody knuckles busted open from striking hard armor, pressed the code and the door slid open. Leaving a trail of blood, she stepped out into the hallway bracing herself on the bulkhead when the deck shuttered beneath her un-steady feet.

Leaning against the wall, she slid down to the cold deck plates, folding her legs beneath her as the darkness swallowed her vision once more.

((Furrowed her Bra?))

The ship vibrated beneath Hal's boots as combat raged around the ship.
He hated taking the turbolift. It always seemed too slow.
Hal had left one of his precious few DC teams back in the Hyperdrive Generator to try and fix the damage while he went his battle station in the primary engineering section. He tapped his foot impatiently while the lift accelerated past the massive primary power generator, the device easily dwarfing a frigate in size and nearly the dimensions of the command tower.
Finally after a few minutes that seemed an eternity, Hal emerged onto the engineering deck to a cacophany of noise and activity.
Removing his helmet, the man glared about the room and bellowed.
'Staytus Rapart!" He demanded.
His Ex-O rushed up to him and filled him in.
"Sir, Shields are taking a pounding but the captain is rolling the ship to preserve integrity! A Tector Class is outside trying to beat us into plasma!"
As Hal reached his station his hands flew across the controls.
"Reit 'en. Lets send 'em back tae th' emperur in peeces! Drap gravity shipwide 15%! Reroote 'at power tae th' guns! Gie a DC team up tae th' shield generators tae be ready fur possible overload!"
"DC team already dispatched." His Ex-O told him.
"en gie tae yer station! Time tae recharge th' shields!"
"Sir!"
A few tense minutes later, Engineering had succeded in increasing the Resolve's Shield level by 10%.

((You do realize that you can link the laser cannons and ion cannons so they fire simultaneously?))

The scattering laser fire nicked the TIE Bomber as the Gunboats passed, but the TIE continued on as if nothing had happened. The Gunboats went into a low-yo-yo and slipped behind the TIE Fighters.

The first TIE cut power and spun on its axis like a top, turning round to face the incoming attack and opened fire while the second TIE was clipped by the laser fire and spun, temporarily out of control.

Then the first TIE pumped the throttle to the firewall and charged.

* * *

Raptor 9 watched as the TIE Bomber formation broke up and stopped moving toward the Resolve. He cursed as missile warning lit up his primary display. "Mynock Squadron the bombers are engaging us!"