Bring The Cat In

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

The following log takes place during the Battle for Aegis (06.17.11 Sim)…

 

The sector surrounding the airspace of Sky Harbor Aegis was complete chaos; it was a complete cluster frag, in her professional opinion. Breen frigates, warships and starfighters peppered the area like angry hornets, swarming the defenses. Starfleet forces rallied to defend the station, and civilian ships hauled warp plasma in order to remove themselves from the immediate area of the skirmish.

 

The Iowa and Missouri had arrived in system, deploying their Peacekeeper and Crusader class star fighters, responding to the request for assistance. Tracking transponders pinged with the influx of the mobile hardware as individual fighter numbers registered on allied sensors. She’d visually spotted several private couriers and vessels providing defensive assistance, notably the Wild Stallion. The wireless comm traffic was controlled chaos - Aegis OPS was working overtime. The pilot to pilot comms were hopping, and the big support ships sent out position updates as well.

 

Left Ear JoNs had been separated from her assigned squad, and she knew her wingman had gone up in a fireball shortly after the invading forces had attacked. Poor kid had been twenty two seasons of age, if that, straight out of the academy.

 

She’d mourn him later. Now was not the time.

 

The brown furred felinoid wasn’t sure what had happened to her other squad mates, and stayed in the fight alternating between giving as good as she got and retreating in order to come back around and re-enter the fray again.

 

A Breen fighter nailed her aft condenser manifold with rapid fire salvos, and the Caitian yowled with some surprise. Reacting quickly, she manipulated the control stick she gripped in her paw and fired the orientation jump jets, sending her Starfleet fighter into a dizzying combo move that ended up putting her literally end over end. She faced her attacker while simultaneously firing the engines in reverse to keep pace with the Breen pilot.

 

A paw digit tightened over the gun control button, and a burst of projectile pulses erupted from her forward mounts; the enemy fighter broke apart as the pulses shredded through the metal and ignited the fuel lines.

 

Turning her Peregrine hard, the commander got herself and her ride re-oriented with a textbook maneuver, and quickly sped off again to avoid getting caught between two more incoming Breen fighter craft. Her engines left a blue trail of hot plasma exhaust as she turned and burned.

 

She spoke into her helmet communications channel, putting a standard call out for assistance as well as the hope that another lone pilot was looking to do a hot combat hook up. JoNs remained sure and steady, but her excitement level was ramped, causing her purred tone to become more of a growl. “This is Peregrine 37! I’ve lost my wingman, repeat, I’ve lost my wingman. Can someone please grab your gun and bring the Cat in--”

 

And to think that she could have opted for a straight run back to Alpha Sector Command. But nooooo, she’d decided to travel via the shuttle layover run to Aegis. In retrospect, the Gamma quadrant and giant sentient scorpions were much more fun to deal with then homicidal Breen attacks, thank you very much.

Edited June 21, 2011 by LeftEar JoNs