The Costs of Conflict

Posted on Thu Mar 17th, 2016 @ 9:46am by Colonel S'er'in'e

Mission: By Dawn's Early Light
Location: Shadow's Fighter
Timeline: Current

S'er'in'e watched around him, reacting, evading, engaging as battle waged about him. Weapons fire light up the obsidian heavens as fighters and other craft darted left and right, gliding amongst directed energy beams while playing the deadly waltz of pilot vs pilot combat. Battle often had a way of separating the strong and the weak, the talented and the inexperienced and a large majority of his pilots were just that...inexperienced. His orders when he assumed the role as CAG to begin in flight training would only meet with very limited sucsess in light of the time constraints piled upon them.

He wondered how many would return, how many would see friends and family again, how many parents he'd have to write to.

S'er'in'e had already engaged many fighters of the enemy forces and downed most, some had escaped but there were always more to assume the role of prey. His own wingman had fallen early on in the battle but he pressed on, the costs of him not doing so were too high and his Mate had demanded he return, he looked briefly at his arm at the cloth she'd tied around his arm, a request, a wish, his hope.

By this stage the battle in the dock was being waged and the stage split between the battle inside and that which remained out in space, the stations weapons had caused much damage but there was a considerable debris field being created from vessels both friend and foe alike. A near miss brought his attention back to the present, his console indicating a collision warning and S'er'in'e only just evaded it. To his left he saw an enemy fighter engaging one of his own and so banked to the right and drove down onto the enemy. S'er'in'e's ally showed skill as he wieved and used debris even other engagements to stave off his pursuer but time was not a luxury any could afford and S'er'in'e was too late. He could only watch as his pilots craft splintered and fractured into parts leaving a trail of components behind it then the cockpit hurled forward out of control, the canopy shattered with its occupant still fastened into the chair, his eyes frozen to glass.

Locking weapons on his target proved difficult briefly as he wived amongst other fighters both of ally and foe origin, a hit to S'er'in'e's fighter dropped his shields in one hit, he must have caught a starship grade weapon or at least grazed it to cause total shield failure. S'er'in'e's fighter was slightly larger than the Federation's standard as Caitian's used these for planetary defence having few larger ships of thier own, as a result they were better armed. S'er'in'e resorted to switching his phasers to a set locked distance, he'd line of sight engage with all the hassle his targeting computers were having. It was an old tactic but one still valuable to know and be able to use if the situation required it, such as now.

After a few minutes of engagement S'er'in'e had downed his foe and had to respect a talented enemy for the skill demonstrated in trying to throw S'er'in'e off him. S'er'in'e banked his fighter to rejoin the fight when it rolled sharp and harshly to the right, it shuddered and groaned through its frame, something was not right. Sparks spat from a few consoles and power flickered briefly before everything seemed to stabilise. "Computer, report."

In Caitian the computer told him that an impact on the Starboard wing had taken considerable damage, communications inoperable, weapons were down, RCS thrusters had been compromised, fuel tanks ruptured but self sealed. His ears picked up the worst of it, a noise, every pilot knew it, his canopy was also been compromised and it was getting worse.

With communications down he couldn't signal for help, couldn't inform anyone of his condition, he had to get back to the Hanger Bay and quickly. S'er'in'e couldn't see it but behind him he left a trail of smoke, grey in colour but only faintly stood out from the black space beyond, it's source was the piece of debris from an enemy starship that had speared his wing. Debris was an unforgiving killer, it didn't care whos side one was on, it just killed anyway.

It was fortunate his escape went unhindered but the hardest part was yet to come, without communications he was unable to signal his approach, his condition, nothing. Making a fly by to make sure there was little danger of a blue on blue collision he lined himself up for entry. Smoke continued to plume from his crippled fighter, consoles flickered on the final approach and activating his landing gear he had no way of confirming if it had deployed. It had, but only two of the three legs had done so, the damage jamming the third unknowingly to S'er'in'e. His landing was far from gentle and his resulting skid from damaged engines unable to properly slow his craft resulted in a a skid of several meters. As soon as his craft came to a stop ground crews filed towards him with damage control tools, extinguishers and medical gear.

Using the emergency hatch release they opened the canopy, his starboard side window cracked through most of the pane. S'er'in'e with the aid of the ground crew, quiet a few of them was helped out of his craft and seated on a container aside from the scene. From where he was seated he could see the damage and what caused it, a large sliver of metal jutting violently from his wing forcing his craft to sit nose up and slanted to one side, fluids leaking from the wound like blood from a living being, smoke floated upwards only to be extracted.

His crafts first combat flight and he hoped not it's last.

"Major, are you alright, are you hurt?" A medic spoke looking the feline over.

"I am fine, my pride however...."

"You made it back, I'm no tech but I'm sure your crew here will have her fixed up in no time. In the mean time just rest here."