Assault on the Gatehouse

This is a JP between myself and Chris Harris
Who: Mk.9, Chris, Efof, Fferna, and everyone else in the fight
Where: Space
When: Just after the Space Eagle squadrons were dispatched
Four heavy guns appeared at each corner of the Halkon Gatehouse.
Simultaneously, Chris' Space Eagle completed a 360 degree spin,
leaving formation as it did so.
"OK people, break formation. They're bringing their guns out, so make
your ship as hard to hit as possible. Oh, and Efof, get that Ffofian
Flag off the bloody windshield. Firstly I'm not entirely sure how you
can see through it and secondly, they are the Halkon's arch enemies,
we don't want them more pissed off than necessary, understood?" Said
Chris, enforcing his authority.
Mk.9 looked over and pushed Efof off of the dashboard, causing him to
collapse in a heap with the flag over his head. "Gee, you two are
obviously the very cream of your ship's fighter squadron." said
Fferna, somewhat concerned.
"Hey, we've gotten by just fine in the past." said Mk.9. Efof opened
his mouth to speak, but was mostly afraid of ruining his chances with
Fferna.
"Look, we need to destroy the shield generator."
"Ok Fferna, how do you suggest we do that?" asked Mk.9 "That's where
the shield is coming out from!"
Chris, having heard all this over the radio, was beginning to get
slightly irritated at the prospect of this having not been properly
explained. "Never fear lads, I'm sure there's a weakness there
somewhere!" said Chris, however, at the very moment he said this,
twenty Halkon fighters flew out of some unfound hangar bay.
"I spoke too soon" he admitted gloomily.
"Ok, lets see if we can't punch a hole in the shield itself through
overpowering it. Mk.9, lock onto the co-ordinates I'm sending you now"
he barked into the Radio, his fingers whizzing over the keypad to send
the co-ordinates. The ship thudded violently as Chris focused his
attention back on piloting.
"KETO!" shouted Chris into the mid-section of the ship.
"WHAT!?" screamed a seemingly miffed Keto. "There I was minding my own
business and you scream my name like I've blown up the ship!"
"Shut up, be a darling, and check the damage control machine for me"
said Chris in an assertive way. Keto wasn't one to jump to orders,
least of all from those not ranked above him, albeit not below him, in
this instance, but did so in this case with minimal fuss as it sounded
important.
"Everything's just peachy" said Keto with a sarcastic grin.
"Don't BS me. I'm not in the mood to deal with you, while I'm having
to dodge thousands of laser cannon fire rounds every minute"
"We're in trouble."
Meanwhile, Mk.9 was busy shooting randomly at the shield.
"Ooh, shoot over there! Quickly! A little to the left!"
Mk.9 sighed
"THIS is why I don't like having women in the same fighter."
"What are you talking about?" asked Fferna puzzled "That's Efof"
Mk.9 took his eyes off of the scene before him and turned to see Efof
hovering over his shoulder.
"...I apologise."
"No sweat. I think if we weaken the shields enough, we can break
through and attack it from the inside." Fferna said, pointing out the
glowing bulge in the side of the station the shield was emanating from.
Mk.9 turned on the radio. "Chris, you intact enough to give us a hand
over here?"
"Give me a second, mate" he said into the radio
"Define 'in trouble', Keto."
Keto passed Chris a small strip of paper detailing the damage report.
"Shit shit shit! They've hit out wing. We're OK for now, but another
hit there could take out half our engines and half our firepower.
That'll make a fairly nasty bang methinks. Wake Callum up, and get him
on it, pronto!" said Chris in an important undertone, but seeing the
look on Keto's face, chose to do it himself.
"CALLUM, Engines 4-6 are in need of some of your magic. They're a
breach there though, so be careful."
"Onto it" replied Callum reluctantly.
"We're in shape, Mk.9, but the shield doesn't seem to be yielding yet.
Try laser pattern nine delta seven, focusing on the edge of the shield".
"What does nine delta seven mean?" asked Keto.
"It's a bucket and spade" said Chris enthusiastically, with a thumbs up.
Mk.9 acknowledged the transmission and went about firing on the shield
as designated. After a while it was starting to get to that point
halfway between gummy and brittle, and they took their chances.
"Hold on everyone." Mk.9 called back to his Ffionian pasengers. Fferna
clung onto a railing on the side of the cockpit. Efof clung onto her
like a small child. f course in, his mind he was being manly and
holding her in his four big strong arms, but for the moment he would
have to keep on dreaming.
The Space Eagle smashed through the shield, which soon sealed up
behind them. Mk.9 peered up and out at the rest of the fight and saw
things weren't going terribly well for them.
"Ok, this should be over soon." said Mk.9, as he locked all weapons
onto the generator and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Peering out at the wingtips, he saw most of the supply lines to the
weapons had been damaged beyond repair when they broke through the shield.
"Oh gee, bloody brilliant!" said Fferna, trying to pry off the
stil-clinging Efof.
"Fferna, I keep a ball-gag back there for him if you are so inclined.
Of course, you're more than welcome to use it yourself."
Once again Mk.9 turned to the radio for any advice.
Chris fired at the point through which Mk.9's space eagle had passed
until the breach opened again, to the extent that their space eagle
could fit through with out being damaged. They flew through in style
before Chris returned to being serious.
"Mk.9, they still have some smaller guns in here. As you obviously
aren't going to be any help in destroying the shield generator, I'll
need you to create a diversion. Keep them off my back. Please." he
instructed.
"Ok, to the rest of the fleet. Dispatch all remaining enemy vessels
and re-open the breach in the shields on my co-ordinates. Follow and
help to destroy the generator. Then we can fly in and land the ships,
and deal with the main job. Harris out" he added, switching off the radio.
Mk.9 turned off the radio. He didn't much like the idea of running a
distraction, but was willing to do his part. "Ok, Efof, take the
controls. The least I can do is go outside and shoot out these guns
myself." said Mk.9 charging up his arm cannon.
"Please let me do it. Please. I want to live." begged Fferna.
"Ok, fine. Just don't adjust the seat. It's just how I like it."
Mk.9 exited the airlock and marked the station's turrets on his HUD.
After taking out a few of them, he noticed several dozen space eagles
breaking through the weakness in the shield and forming up with Chris.
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