Asrial was not a morning person on the best of days, a fact that was shown most presently by the Aranok's slow shuffle out of his bunk. Yawning wide enough to pop his jaw, Asrial waited patiently to get his food and fix of caffeine in any form. When he got his turn at the food he loaded up solely on bacon, a couple donuts, and a cup of a sludge that used to be coffee before it was diluted with sugar as well as a couple other caffeinated drinks that were part of the display. Sitting down he grunted a 'good morning' to the rest of the squadron, settling in he began eating what seemed to be a sandwich made from the donuts and bacon he took, accompanied by large gulps of his drink. As the captain began her briefing Asrial turned his near total attention to her, his eating slowing. With the introduction of the new addition, Asrial's response was a simple glance in his direction as he took a slow bite from his amalgam of a breakfast, before returning his attention to the captain.

As they were dismissed, the Aranok placed his dishes in the cleaner and returned to his room to rummage through his bag and pull out a worn and yellowed paperback that had lost it's covers from repeated use. Opening it to a familiar spot as he found a place to put his feet up he passed the time with some measure of a quiet peace.

When the time to gear up he stashed his book and proceeded to get prepped for the launch, going through the motions with a slightly practiced hand, the bulky Aranok variant armor fitting on him like a second skin. As he was on his way to the hanger he also pulled on his helmet, securing it down. Inhaling slowly he tasted the filtered air that ran through the suit, a familiar and welcome taste.

Lowering himself into the cockpit, Asrial belted himself in and began the startup sequence with almost machine like motions. As the canopy hissed, sealing the pilot inside, Asrial gave the thumbs up as all checks came back green. Sighing heavily he tried his best to relax as the fighter was pulled into it's launch tube. As the thunk of the locks resounded across, Asrial's voice rumbled onto the comms

"Received and understood Lead. This is Wyld Fire one, all checks are green and the tires have been kicked, im ready to go."

"You'd better not make that look bad at least, Lieutenant Mallory". Adam grinned to himself as he stepped out of the cell. Yeah, great start Adam. The guard returned Adam's toggle to him as he passed, following his new CO to the squadron's quarters. His stomach growled the moment he smelled breakfast, not having ate anything more substantial since the shuttle ride to the port. How long has it been since he last ate? Twelve hours? Fourteen? Adam lost count while he was locked up. They didn't have a clock in there, which he suspect was the point.

With a cup of coffee and a plate full of food in his hands, Adam took a seat next to the blue-furred Isorlai. Before he had a chance to make an introduction, Erien started her speech. Adam paid half attention to her as he blitz through his breakfast.

"This is Lieutenant Mallory," Adam put down his utensils and sat up a little straighter, only to consider sinking back into his seat when she went on to describe his foolish decision to take an unconventional tour of the ship. He let out a short, breathless laugh and nodded to everyone. Looks like he's got more work ahead of him, but it's not like Adam to baulk at a challenge. He's certainly not going to start now.

Adam listened intently to the mission briefing, trying to hide his relief that it was more or less a run of the mill escort mission. That should give him some extra time to test out and go over any reconfiguration required for his Saber. Once the briefing was done, he quickly cleaned up after himself and made his way down to the cargo bay. He jogged over to the vent where he stashed his duffle bag, relieved to find it's still there. Maybe security really thought he was a stowaway, didn't think he had much more on him other than his toggle. The rest was a blur. Adam rushed back to the quarters, picked the nearest empty room and stuffed his bag into one of the bottom drawers. After checking his toggle for the location of his flight gear, he ran down to retrieve them. He checked the time and relaxed slightly. Still enough time to go over my Saber.

---

Already suited up, Adam stood in front of his fighter. He can't help but smile at the sight. In some ways it felt like coming home. A Syreen stepped into Adam's view and saluted him, "Lieutenant, my name is Plex and I will be the chief engineer for your Saber's maintanence."

Adam shook Plex's hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Normally, we would have you go through the configuration and full preflight checks and diagnostics with us. But since we're short on time thanks to your...misadventure--" Adam grinned in spite of himself. Plex paused, "Is something funny?"

"I'm never going to live that down now, am I?"

Plex shrugged, "As I was saying, since we're short on time, we'll have to get through the essential configuration now and the preflight checks."

Adam didn't waste time, he climbed up the ladder leading into the cockpit of his fighter and swung himself inside. The seat require very little adjustment, thanks to how closely Adam seem to fit the average fighter pilot DefCom has in service. Once his seat was configured to his liking, he gave a thumbs-up to the engineer and started down the preflight checklist. Fortunately for Adam, the check went by without an issue.

A voice spoke over comms, "Wylde Fyre Six, this is Control. You are go for launch, stand by for launch orders, over."

"This is Wylde Fyre Six, Control. Awaiting orders, over."

"Wylde Fyre lead to all craft. Stand by for launch, we are on the mission timeline, over!"

"Roger, Wylde Fyre Lead. Wylde Fyre Six standing by, over."

Erien listened with some pride and satisfaction as her pilots reported in promptly. She gave a slight smile as she heard their comments about the situation, lauging softly as Nick's words come through:

"Wylde Fyre 7 to Lead, read you loud and clear, all systems green, just waiting for them to light the way for me, I got lost once."

"Roger that, 7. I'll make sure to give you the map next time, over".
Nyx checked in next, and she laughed again before she replied.

"Wylde Fyre Four to Lead, I hear you. Is there a way that I don't have to say that alliteration every time? Oh, also all systems green."

"Roger that, Four. Let's just shorten it down to four, that ought to help you out, over".

The others checked in, leading to the full squadron present. Control replied and confirmed their status.
"Wylde Fyre squadron, looking good. Ready for launch; catapults charging and hatches open. Brace for launch!"
The tunnels ahead of each fighter lit up with the receding circles of blue lights, and a final yellow one framing the launch doors themselves. There was a vauge tingling sensation Erien recognized as the magnetic charge built up around the fighter. As the repulsing force increased, the weight came off of the launch arm.
"Launch!" came the same voice, and with a sensation like a blow to her chest, the fighter blasted down the tunnel, the light blurring together into a blue haze, before the blackness of space burst into view around her, the ship receding in the rear cameras.
"Okay folks, tighten up into formation. Let's make this look good, since we're the first ones out here".
Ahead, the bright sphere of the planet loomed, partially occluded by the dusty, grey-brown of the worlds' moon. She held her course as a point of reference for the others around her to home in on, while she scanned the surroundings for the Claymore they were meant to escort. Moments later, as her helmet-mounted display tagged the shape of the multi-role heavy craft, the comm channel came to life with an unfamiliar voice.
"Hey there, Wylde Fyre squadron. This is Claymore callsign Eagle Eye. Good to have you with us and watching our back. We're steady on course for our recon flight, care to join us?"
"Roger that, Eagle Eye. We're coming over to join you right now, sit tight".
Erien lightly caressed her controls to change course, puffs of manoevering thrusters pointing the Sabre onto the right heading to meet up with the distant shape of the recon-fitted Claymore.
"All right, boys and girls. Split into two groups; three in close escort to Eagle Eye, four of us in two pairs in a wide spread ahead and on either side to intercept anything coming in. Olarin, Mallory and Wallon, stick with the Claymore. Hel'Kayik and Cavernmaw, you're together. Miles, you come with me. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone. We know there's something weird going on out here".

***

The planet now filled the full panorama out of the Sabre's canopies, and their orientation had change to match, settling in on course to escort the Claymore on its' recon flight over the settlements on the planets' surface below. "Beginning sweep," announced the same voice as before. A few minutes earlier, the carrier had announced it was holding between the moon and orbital distance, with reinforcements waiting.
"First scan complete," the Claymores crew reported, as the minutes crawled agonizingly past. "Moving onto next location. You still with us, Wylde Fyre?"
"Roger," replied Erien. "Still here, and watching out. Anything interesting, over?"
"Not yet, we'll keep you informed, over".
Erien clicked the mike in reply and shifted in her seat. The balance of keeping alert in what was essentially a 'do-nothing' role at the moment was taxing. She grumbled to herself and took a sip of water from the mouthpiece in her helmet, easy her dry muzzle a little. She was about to call and check in with the others, but a warbling beep from her instrument console and a flashing icon on her helmet display caught her attention.
"What the?" she murmured to herself, as she highlighted the icon. Her eyes widened as the image resolved into an inbound unknown contact... then several contacts.
"Eagle Eye, this is Wylde Fyre Lead. We have multiple inbound contacts, unknown origin and intentions. All Wylde Fyre units, stand to - looks like we have company. Miles, with me. Hel'Kayik, Cavernmaw, take spacing and follow us in. If they jump, stand by to jump back. The rest of you, keep that Claymore safe. This might be a decoy!"

She shifted her course and flared her engines, the extra thrust driving her onto an intercept course with the incoming vessels. As they grew closer, the Sabre's targeting systems resolve the fighter against its' onboard database; Arrow medium fighters. There were six in the group ahead, and as Erien closed in, they split into two groups, four diverting to head for four closing in on them with the remaining pair driving hard for the Claymore.
Definitely A diversion, she thought to herself. They wouldn't attack in such odds if it wasn't.
"Olarin, Mallory, Wallon; eyes to the rear. I think they're trying to bushwhack us, over"
Little sooner had the words left her muzzle than the fighters approaching began scraping space around them with their targeting systems, the electromagnetic emissions highlighted by the Sabres' systems. A harsh buzz indicated Erien had been locked onto and she hit her countermeasures and spiralled through evasive manoeuvers.
"All craft, craft are bandits, inbound and hot! Light 'em up!"

Gurjan silently fiddled around with his control panel, the commander hadn't really said much directly to him, so he assumed everything was A-OK, still, couldn't hurt to keep a close eye on the ship's systems just in case something did go wrong. He perked up when control announced they would be launching. He had only once made the mistake of not bracing himself for launch, and that time had seen him hurtling through a training flight like an aimless fool. He stared straight ahead to the launch tube. The magnetic launch charged up, a feeling that made his fur stand on end.

Gurjan always liked to play a little game to keep his mind from dozing off in the moments before a launch. Guessing when the fighter would launch exactly. Mentally he counted down from three... Two...one... Nothing. Approximately two counts later, he was pressed into his chair by the acceleration. It was this moment for which Gurjan had signed in the first place. The feeling of being free from any larger mass, to be but a small speck hurtling through the Stygian black of space... He would have to write that one down after the mission. With learned movement, he wrested the sabre into formation behind the lead craft. It wasn't long until the mission objective reported in. Orders were clear, stick close to mission objective. One arm adjusted the sabre's throttle, another gently nudged the controls around to move into the new formation. For a few more moments, the Isorlai adjusted course, just one or two degrees at a time, before finally being satisfied with the angle with which he was following eagle eye

The minutes passed by slowly. As important as this mission likely was, it didn't change the fact that it wasn't particularly mentally engaging. Gurjan was somewhat struggling to keep himself fully alert. He knew that when things went south, a split second could mean the difference between success or failure. And yet he couldn't help himself dozing off ever so slightly. It was almost a good thing in a certain way that the routine of staring at a claymore's exhaust trail was broken by a ping from the commander. It took him just a moment to notice that which the commander had called to attention. He was now completely alert and awaiting orders. “Roger wild fyre lead, keeping bogeys in sight. Over”

His thoughts raced, he got a look around to see where he rest of the squad were, if shit hit the fan he would need to know exactly were his wingmen were before everything turned into a furball. Perhaps luckily, he didn't need to make a call for himself as to the intentions of the tallied bogeys, as the commander ordered all weapons hot. He just needed to follow orders, and those orders right now were to keep the rear flank covered. “Roger, they aren't gonna mess with our escort as long as I'm still here.” He kept his eyes starkly on the arrays of sensors and radars before him, ready to snap the sabre around and open fire the moment someone decided to rear their head.

No matter how many times Adam gets catapulted out of a ship, he still can't get used to that sudden elephant on his chest. The feeling dissipated as soon he cleared the tube, but he kept a finger on the emergency anti-blackout drug dispenser anyway. There are a number of safeguards to prevent blackouts from occurring, but he seen enough close calls—even for pilots with years of experience—to know those safeguards don’t always work. You never truly know if today was the day your body decides to work against you.

“Keep your eyes peeled, everyone. We know there's something weird going on out here.” Adam setted his jaw as his eyes flitted between different readouts. He couldn't help but feel on edge from Erien’s last transmission. It wasn't so much what she said but how she said it that made him pay closer attention. He thumbed the transmit button, “Wilco, Lead.”

The trip towards the Claymore was uneventful, which made Adam restless. He drummed his fingers against the throttle as he scanned the vast nothingness of space. If the circumstances were different, the peacefulness of the void would’ve lulled him to sleep. Instead, he felt like he’s on his fifth shot of espresso.

Every so often, Adam would look out the canopy of his ship for visual confirmation of the Claymore’s position, along with the two squadmate assigned to defend the ship with him. If he couldn’t see them out the window, he switches over to the rear camera feed. He cycled through this pattern fifteen times before his fighter’s sensors pinged. Adam froze for a sliver of a second before he refocused on the sensor’s display. Before he had a chance to call in, his radio came to life, “We have multiple inbound contacts, unknown origin and intentions.”

"Olarin, Mallory, Wallon; eyes to the rear. I think they're trying to bushwhack us, over.”

“Copy that.” Adam kept his eyes trained on the two markers headed towards them on the sensor display. With the distance they’re flying at, visual confirmation is impossible without aid. He frowned at the two markers, unsure if he should be worried or insulted. Were they hoping to bait his squad into leaving their post just for a clear shot at the Claymore? Whatever the reason, Adam didn’t like it. Barring the suicidally stupid, most enemies don’t engage with inferior numbers unless they had superior firepower. Let’s hope they really are that dumb.

"All craft, craft are bandits, inbound and hot! Light 'em up!" Erien’s order came at the same time her fighter started into evasive maneuver. Adam deployed his fighter’s hardpoints as he trained his fighter slowly, keeping the hardpoints facing the hostiles beelining for the Claymore. With the rest of his squad out there, dealing with the hostiles, Adam found it even more difficult to sit here and wait for the two bogey to get within shooting range. But orders are orders.

"Roger that, Four. Let's just shorten it down to four, that ought to help you out, over".

Nyx nodded in agreement, adding in, "Roger that."

She gripped the throttle tightly, trying to breathe while they waited in the dark tube. One light, two... once it reached four, Nyx felt the magnetic charge, trying to not think about the last time she'd hopped in a ship to pilot it. She checked her displays again, making sure that everything was smooth and then...

Fwoosh. And out in space, Nyx felt the wide expanse of space all around her. A vacuum that would definitely cook and freeze her at the same time in a short moment. Nyx shook her head to get her head out of the stars, and flew in formation behind Erien, keeping an eye out for the claymores, and anything else that might be out there. If they screwed up, if they let down their guard... it wouldn't be good.

Nyx realized that she was going with the Commander. Nyx was surprised, she thought for sure that she'd be stuck on guard duty. With a quick, 'roger that' she was behind Erien, and ready to go.

There wasn't much to do for a while, and the suspense just kept building, so Nyx cycled between her canopy and her screen. Both of which were empty. A report, but it wasn't anything much. Just confirmation that there was nothing out there. At what Nyx assumed was the same time as Eiren, there was a beep on her screen.

Shit. It couldn't have been simple, could it? Nyx thought as she began to settle in and get ready to fight. Plus, I get to deal with them with the Commander first.

"This is Four, ready to follow. Respectfully, ma'am, what the hell are they out here for?" Nyx asked as she spun to narrowly avoid being hit. "Plus, its no secret that we were coming. They'd be hard pressed to win with those outdated fighters. I don't like this." A hard and fast push on the reverse and she avoided getting hit again.

Nyx barely managed to lock on to one of the fighters and shoot before she had to go on the defensive again. Is it too late to debate my life choices?

Elik let out a breath he didn't know he was holding once his fighter made it out of the launch rail and out to open space. After one more quick overlook of his systems he fell in with the squad on the way to meet up with Eagle Eye. He responded to their assignments with "Understood" and took a second to figure out just who the hell Cavernmaw was. Upon realizing the Cavernmaw was Six he fell into formation with him, setting a piloting assist to keep him locked in the formation for the patrol so he could focus on his radar and sensors.

He settled in during the long run, hoping it stayed this quiet. He kept his eye on his radar, occasionally glancing up to make sure he was still with his wingman...and that his wingman was there. He seemed to get the ping just after Erien and quickly shut off the pilot assist to switch over follow Erien. The cockpit in his fighter was dead silent as he waited on confirmation of the unknowns, and of course they had to be hostile.

The first thing the really alerted him to the bandits was when Erien's fighter spun into evasive maneuvers, quickly followed by an alert that his fighter had been locked on to as well. He broke formation into his own evasives and came around but a missile was still fired at him. A marker indicated the incoming projectile and he pressed his countermeasure, thankfully confusing the lockon and the missile flew off in the wrong direction. He still ended up with one of the fighter on him. "I've got one on my tail!"

Nick tensed up, and forced his helmeted head into its rest, his neck beginning to cramp. Better cramped then coldcocked at launch. he thought to himself as he waited for what would momentarily feel like a full body coronary.

<Launch!> came the all powerful voice, and mike felt like the gods themselves bitch slapped him into next week, before it just as suddenly faded.

<Okay folks, tighten up into formation. Let's make this look good, since we're the first ones out here.>

"Christ" mike hissed rubbing his collarbone before forming up. "Six here, falling in formation" Cutting back from the launch trajectory, Nick swung back towards Erien, and the rest, taking his position in the 'V'. staying like that, they quickly closed in on their charge, the colonel making contact.

<All right, boys and girls. Split into two groups; Hel'Kayik and Cavernmaw, you're together. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone. We know there's something weird going on out here.> Nick looked around, his HUDD tagging the Sabers as he looked over them. Finding number two, he broke off and paired up.

"hey there two." mike said, waving to him, before adjusting his flight to a stable cruise. during their excursion, Nick too some moments to pull his PADD out and take a few pictures of the planet, he had just gotten a good one of the Claymore, when a blip on his HUDD, and the Colonel broke the serenity.

<Eagle Eye, this is Wylde Fyre Lead. We have multiple inbound contacts, unknown origin and intentions. All Wylde Fyre units, stand to - looks like we have company. Miles, with me. Hel'Kayik, Cavernmaw, take spacing and follow us in. If they jump, stand by to jump back. The rest of you, keep that Claymore safe. This might be a decoy!>

"Six here, copy lead. will follow in 3" Nick said looking at Elik. " 3...2...1, lets go Two" he said, firing thrusters to half and following suit, ready to arm at a moments notice. keeping things defensive, he watched as the opposing fighters broke off and sent a missile at the colonel.

<All craft, craft are bandits, inbound and hot! Light 'em up!> mike grimaced as he watched the Saber spiral chaff and flares through space.

"understood, moving to engage!, Two, lets go!" he looked over as a wash of magnesium light flared over him, Elik braking off hard.

<I've got one on my tail!>

"Six is on the way Two, keep dodging!" Nick said as he threw the engines to full and banked after him. As the bulkier fighter pulled into view Nick flipped the cover off the trigger, his HUDD filling spaces with a visual representation of his load out. Scrolling around he highlighted a panel of air-air missiles and carefully traced the fighter with the targeting reticle.

"come on, come on, wiggle down a bit..." he muttered as he glanced at his radar, firing a missile as the lock-on tone went of.

"Six, fox one" he called out, as he balanced between keeping lock, and watching his radar. "break off you bandit piece of-" he muttered to himself, hoping the heat would make him peel off of Elik. finally, the bandit fired his own countermeasures, and mike broke off to follow.

"Two, he broke off, watch out for his friend." Nick said as he cut off the previous munition, leaving it to fly harmlessly into the distance. Weaving after the fighter, he switched to guns, stabbing the space in front of the enemy pilot as it wobbled uncertainly through the rail gun fire.

"Relax" Asrial told himself as he he waited for the catapult to sling his fighter into the deep void, the indicator lights slowly ticking down to the launch mark. "Just relax and it will be alright." Breathing deeply, he held his breath and whent slightly slack in his seat just as the counters hit their low point. AS he was slammed with the G forces of the sudden 0 to several hundred of meters per second acceleration, Asrial slowly let his breath bleed out and his body be pressed into the seats.

As the fighter transitioned into the void, Asrial ditched the relaxed posture he had maintained, and put his head on the swivel to take in his surroundings and mentally mark the positioning of his squadron mates. Nudging the throttle up, the armored Aranok couldn't help but let out a pleased rumble that echoed that of the ship as it accelerated to match the speed of the other fighters. His hands moved with familiarity, softly pressing on the controls to coax the fighter into an odd banking turn that was angled up as well as to the side, matching direction with the other's, just at a slightly higher elevation.

"All right, boys and girls. Split into two groups; three in close escort to Eagle Eye, four of us in two pairs in a wide spread ahead and on either side to intercept anything coming in. Olarin, Mallory and Wallon, stick with the Claymore. Hel'Kayik and Cavernmaw, you're together. Miles, you come with me. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone. We know there's something weird going on out here".

Clicking his own com to signify his receiving the order, Asrial tightened up his formation with his two wingmen. "Babysitting duty aye." The muttered to himself, only after ensuring that his com was off. And for the most part he was right, it was a long slow process of tailing the larger Claymore craft. In fact it was boring enough that Asrial found himself humming to an old tune that popped into his head as the com came to life once more carrying the authoritative voice of the commander to his ears. His humming stopped dead as she railed out the sighting of the new contacts, and the barking of various orders. A rush of adrenaline cleared his mind as he thumbed the safety off his guns.

"Olarin, Mallory, Wallon; eyes to the rear. I think they're trying to bushwhack us, over"

Gritting his teeth under his helmet, and forcing a smile Asrial responded in an clam and even voice, "Understood lead, taking up defensive posture."

Though he was anxious to get into the thick of things, he knew his place and it was most certainly not questioning orders at the start of an engagement, besides he had a gut feeling things were going to heat up here in any case. Flipping on his maneuvering thrusters Asrial spun his Saber sideways, pointing his nose towards the incoming contacts, letting his previous momentum carry him in a side slide, keeping up with the Claymore. Touching his coms the radioed over to Mallory and Wallon, a grumble of satisfaction in his voice "How about a friendly wager? First one to score a hit, I buy a drink, deal?"