conversations: human
conversations:  As the last of the mechanics flee the bay, the airlocks come down to seal your squad off from the rest of the HMS Dixie.  Klaxons blare, but you can no longer hear them as the great blast doors ahead of you inch open, venting the air from the hanger.  Over the comms, someone's breathing is becoming harsher, and you hope it is not your own.  More and more of the door opens to reveal the black beyond it, marred by a great white Multi-Generational ship from the first launch dead in space. 
  
  " Right, by the numbers ladies and gentlemen.  Your primary objective here is to secure the safety of HMS Kilauea while we transfer her crew and supplies. "   The voice of your commander replaces all other sounds, smooth as silk in your ears.   " We're on the edge of Sep space here, so stay alert.  No questions?  Good.  Coyote squad, the dance is yours. "
  
    With that simple statement, you are clear to engage as you see fit.  
conversations: Q'telun:
conversations: human
conversations:  " Orders recieved and understood Commander " Tanya said into her comn. She triggered her thrusters, beginning a slow gentle burn towards the hulk. No need to risk going at maximum speed and having a higher chance of engine burn-out. This was ehr first time out in space, and it was beautiful, and she looked out at in a sense of wonder.  I wonder  she thought to herself  Once we become so used to space that it is no longer as magnificent to us as it once was, what will we find to look at with wonder then? 
conversations: saithor:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Aye aye, sir,"  Ash confirms, nodding out of habit even though he knows no one can see him.  Following Ishenkov's example, he nudges his controls to push off the hangar deck and throttles up to a slow burn, keeping pace with his squadmate.  His Komori's mechanical hands keep a steady grip on his autocannon, holding it at the ready; his eyes turn to the status indicator for his HF sword, ensuring it still rests securely in its sheath at his mecha's hip.  If any attackers are to approach, they'll have to do so from enough range that trying to close right away would be foolish.  Satisfied with the condition of his weapons, he shifts his attention to his sensor readouts.  They'll detect enemies before his cameras can see them.
conversations: Amaril:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Roger, Commander. All engines are green and in the clear,"  Hanako replies.  "Weapons, green. Life support, green. Sensors, green. Coyote 3 is launching."  She gooses her thrusters up, and her mech starts flying away from the comforting bulk of the HMS Dixie, and towards the derelict that they've been tasked with securing.
  
   "I'm going to be hanging back a bit,"  Hanako transmits to the rest of the squadron.  "I've gotten better with the cannon since last time, so I should be able to provide covering fire without it becoming, well, friendly fire." 
conversations: DoctorFaust:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Yes sir, C 4 moving out."  Richard replies, as he launches his rather unremarkable mech into his part of the formation.
  
  As they fly ahead, he radios,  "I believe we should maintain patrol formation, don't stray further than a hundred meters from each other...." 
conversations: The_Admiral:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Coyote-5, here. Roger."  said Jonathan curtly into the radio. He kept his eyes peeled as the squad floated towards the behemoth ship ahead of them, not completely trusting the sensors of his mecha.
  
  Jonathan rolled his eyes at Richard's reminder as he took the lead. Since his mecha had all of its hands free, it could clear debris faster while the rest of the squad provided coverage.
  
   "Coyote-5, moving into position,"  reported the pilot.  "And I hope you're right, Coyote-3. I just got the armor on my backside repaired." 
conversations: Justicar:
conversations: human
conversations:  Space is quiet. Even with the radio chatter coming in from the two PPC ships over the radio, there is a kind of quiet emptiness about the whole thing.  The Dixie comes about as the last of the jocks leave her holds, starting a slow turn that will dock her securely against the Kilauea as a way to defend her and let the crews transfer the essentials.  It is a perfect plan, and one that has served Her Majesty's Navy well over the last decade. 
   At least, until space seems to invert around three points on the field, heralding the arrival of three Separatist strike cruisers.  As their main guns open up on the defenseless Kilauea, slagging her and tying the Dixie down, the ship's identities are revealed in their color schemes and profiles.  The Blue and Gold of the sword shaped SAS Hope. The near void Black and the scythe shaped bridge give away the SAS Irish Fairy. And finally, the Green and Yellow of the ship that almost looks like it was grown, the SAS Curiosity. 
   The Dixie begins emergency evasion as it scrambles its remaining squadrons, klaxons wailing over the radio as the old ship beats to quarters.  The voice of Captain Aukai crackles over comms, broken and husky after decades of cigars and old whiskey.   " Coyote Squad, do what you can to buy us some time. Reinforcements are coming, so don't do anything risky.  Primary target is the  Hope , just stay clear of their CIDs.  Dance is yours. "
conversations: Q'telun:
conversations: human
conversations:  " Copy that HMS Dixie, Coyote 1 engaging the target. " Tanya said as she began throttling into an evasive pattern as she approached the SAS Hope, hoping to get into a better range for her cannon and rockets.
conversations: saithor:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ash's knuckles whiten on his controls as the hostile ships warp in and open fire, his allies' chatter half a blur.  He grits his teeth, swallowing down the rising fear.    Come on.  This is what you've trained for.  Get it together.  
  Seeing Ishenkov move to close on the Hope, he throttles up and jumps into a zigzagging course that takes him roughly parallel with her, looking for an opening to let loose with his autocannon.   "C2, engaging.  I've got your back, number one." 
conversations: Amaril:
conversations: human
conversations:  Hands nervously gripping the controls, Richard grimaces as he says,  "C4 providing covering fire."  he says, keeping pace just behind Tanya.
conversations: The_Admiral:
conversations: human
conversations:  With calm bred from several long years of life in the army, Hanako sets her scanners on Hope and begins rocketing towards it.  "Coyote 3 engaging. Command, I'm curious, do we know if any of the ships are carrying mech squads of their own?" 
conversations: DoctorFaust:
conversations: human
conversations:  As if to answer Coyote-3's question, the bays of the three ships open as one. A total of 12 heavy mechs of the Separatist Alliance pour out from the sides, armed to the teeth with weapons fitting each jock's personality.  Heading these 12 are three smaller mechs of obviously custom design.
  
  As soon as the last of the mechs clear its firing line, the guns of the Irish Fairy pulse flashes of light against its void dark hull, decimating what little remains of the Kilauea and starting their deadly work on the thick armor plates of the Dixie.  Quickly following this barrage are the heavier guns of the Hope, flinging shells the size of mechs through the wine-dark void and through the hull of the poor Dixie.
  
  The ship you all call home gives as good as it gets though, as the stars behind the carrier are suddenly obscured by trails of spent propellant from countless missiles that play havoc along the hull of the Curiosity, venting its crew into hard vacuum. 
conversations: Q'telun:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Oh, hell."  Hanako yanks the controls of her mech sideways, sending it flying in closer to the enemies.  "Engage at will!"  she cries, settling the closest enemy into the crosshairs of her cannon.  "Try to to focus on eliminating the ace's first. They'll be the most trouble, but we might stand a chance if we coordinate this right." 
   
   Spoiler 
  Are any within range? For me, that would be 450-4050 meters.
   
conversations: DoctorFaust: