Oneimas

[weemadando]

"Tac we've got a search band scanner at 342.42/54.90 relative. Range undetermined. Weak signal."
"Copy that White 4. Be advised, we are intercepting encoded short-range transmissions from that location. Analysis is underway." The heavily modified Nebulon-B Frigate sat with no emissions other than its line of sight laser communications active. Its black hull speckled with light to fool those seeking its form visually against the starscape. Antennas bristled along its length, lending the ship a hirsuite appearance. It's name was Oneimos, after a trickster god from the old mythologies of the peoples of Anaip. The Rebellion had spent more credits on this ship than on a much larger MonCal cruiser. It was filled with the finest in stolen, blackmarket and homebrewed electronics. Rogue Squadron was the group that got all the glory, but for all their barnstorming and flashy propaganda friendly attacks, it was the Oneimos and its squadron flying Wild Womprat missions that was the best friend of the Rebellion's pilots. And it was missions like the one today which ensured the respect of their fellow pilots.

"Tac - new search band scanner at 242.11/62.45 relative. Appears to be Epsilon-type scanner. Range 252 klicks"
"Copy that White 4. White 1, Targetting solutions are plotted, standing by for initiation on your signal."
"Roger Tac." White 1 was a converted Y-wing, bulkier in its flattened "head" than most. It contained four crew in its cramped cockpit space, along with masses of screens, switches, buttons and wires. On its exterior, like its mothership, antennae bristled over the available space. For all it's haphazard appearance, this craft was one of the most dangerous in the Rebellion, and it was about to demonstrate why. Flying close to it, was its "standover man", a modified X-wing trainer, the second seat in this one rather than being for an instructor, being for a systems operator. The X-wing's usually sleek nose was bulging along its sides with domes containing all manner of jamming equipment. A similar two ship pair floated in space several kilometers away, feeding triangulation data to the Oneimos.

It took a special kind of pilot to want to fly a Y-wing straight down the throat of an Imperial space-superiority network. The Wild Womprat missions of the Oneimos based White squadron seemed to attract them. While Rogue Squadron took the pretty boys who could dance with a TIE squadron all day long, the White Knights as they were known preferred to plunge headlong into a fierce barrage of missiles, torpedos, turbolaser, ion cannon and blaster fire, but only after making sure that they had stacked the deck more than just thoroughly in their favour. White leader, Dala Oran had been one of those. She'd joined the Rebellion very early on. She was one of the only people in her squadron old enough to remember a time before Palpatine. And she was the one who had pressured and lobbied the politicians of the Rebellion hard enough in those early days to secure funds to start her project. She'd found eleven others crazy enough to do the missions she was describing. They'd taken over four of the ARC-170 strike fighters that the Rebellion had secured and spent the next few months with an array of technicians, scientists and droids - customising these craft to exacting specifications. What had come out the other side was the most powerful craft in the Rebellion arsenal at the time. A superb mix of firepower and subterfuge, perfectly fitting the role required at the time - and pioneering the Wild Womprat role within the Rebellion.

Dala and her original White Knights had spearheaded some daring raids. Sweeping into Imperial defended positions and destroying the key nodes of their defense networks. Making the space safer for the more vulnerable fighters who followed. They had paid a heavy price however. Only her and two others remained from that original group. Those two others had been her two systems operators. Every other craft had been destroyed, lost with all hands, on the receiving end of fire from stations, capital ships and fighters. A heavy price to pay, but worth it - the White Knights had saved the lives of far more than they'd ever lost. Even with the head-spinning cost (to the Rebellion financiers at least) of each of their craft, they paid strong dividends in allowing many, many more craft to complete their missions in a much safer environment. The original White 1 still sat in the hangar deck of the Oneimos, brought out to bolster their ranks when they needed that little extra in their hand.

Today though, should be one of the proverbial cakewalks. An Imperial resupply convoy was scheduled to be arriving in a few minutes to restock this frontier post. So far they had identified through passive sensors the main station, a pair of TIE elements patrolling and a System Patrol Craft loitering on the fringes. Easy pickings for the taskforce. Intelligence had reported that the convoy would be four modular conveyors with a pair of Escort Shuttles riding shotgun. The plan was simple, wait until the last moment, hit the stations defenses as hard as they could and as soon as the convoy arrived call in the reinforcements sitting a micro-jump away to box in the freighters. A quick boarding action and it should be all over bar the shouting.

Dala looked down at the battlespace display in the CIC. It was all in place. Drones had been silently creeping around to the deep flanks of the SPC, ready to illuminate it with a fair approximation of every fire control band in the Rebellion arsenal. She was confident that the commander would hightail it to hyperspace at that point. But if not, the Oneimos had a very strong solution on it with a pair of its turbolaser turrets locked onto its position. "Tac - time to convoy arrival?"
"Coming up on 90 seconds - NOW."
"Tac, activate drones."

Onboard the SPC their threatboards came alive with a horrible screech. "We have X-wing and Y-wing type scanners in torpedo acquisition! Multiple fighter search bands in our rear sector!" The young naval ensign looked terrified. Not even in his training had he ever seen this much activity. "Heavy strobe jamming from rear sector." The officer of the watch felt the eyes of all present snap to him. He remembered his training well - don't freeze, any action is good action at this point.
"Y-wing scanners are locked! Entering guidance phase!"
"Can we see anything back there?" Can we fight? Thinks the officer. Or are there too many of them?
"Negative! Jamming is too heavy!"
"X-wing scanners are in guidance phase!"
"Jump to emergency coordinates! Now!" The officer commits to his decision. Too little known - but too much imminent threat.

On the battlespace display the SPC disappears. "They're running. This is White Leader. All White squadron elements, engage now. Tac - unmask and hit that comms array now!"