[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/L6Cn6G5.jpg[/img][/center]
Space remained silent as an orange flower of fire erupted from the top Horizon Point- bits of solar panel, steel, and dish parts filling the local area as the force of the explosion ruptured outward. The station and its attached ships shuddered as gas, debris and concussive force rattled the local area. The explosion tore a great chunk out of the station’s superstructure, and a series of secondary explosions began to ripple across the station as a series of secondary explosions began to slowly tear the station apart from the inside out. 

Time seemed to slow down as onlooking ships and people on board the stations tried to process what was going on. In the emptiness of space, just outside the range of Horizon Point and the UEE fleets’ weapons, a battleship warped into view, detaching its destroyer escort as soon as it exited FTL. Moments later, several other warships warped into view, releasing their clutches of destroyers and frigates as well. The final force was larger than the combined might of the Horizon Point’s defense fleet and weapons installations, and the 5th fleet- much of which was still undergoing repairs. Coalition ships released their MAS squadrons- dozens of tiny specs in the darkness of space, the glint and light from their thrusters made them seem like a swarm of angry fireflies in the distance.

Moments later, the flagship opened fire.

The remains of Horizon Point station rocked violently as a plasma blast struck it, melting into half a dozen floors and corridors in the tightly packed station hull. While not a devastating hit on its own, it was the preamble to another volley of plasma and cannonfire from the Coalition fleet. Several more impacts rocked the station, while others sailed off into the distance, hitting other vessels in the UEE fleet. 

Red lights and sirens began blaring across the entirety of the UEE vessels, as they tried to react to the sudden attack. The planetary defense fleets, as well as the damaged 5th fleet sluggishly moved into defensive positions to meet the Coalition invasion fleet, deploying their own fighter and MAS units to combat the Coalition threat that was quickly closing in. 
[hr]
The Roanoke shuddered violently, sending personnel, equipment, and Ingram’s drink flying. Ingram cursed as he caught himself against the bar. [color=lightblue]”Eva! What the fuck was that?!”[/color] Ingram barked into the air. Almost as if in response, the lights on the Roanoke flickered off, plunging them into darkness. Red emergency lights flooded the dark rooms and halls moments later.

Like a hound to a whistle, Abigail had already taken off on her heels for the nearest door. "MAS first think later!" She yelled over her shoulder, bumping into the opening doors as the emergency power was sluggish to detect her dead sprint towards it.

Eva’s avatar popped into existence in front of him, pouring pale blue light over the him. “LIEUTENANT COMMANDER SHAW,” the avatar reported, “Communications to Horizon Point have halted. In regards to your question what ‘THE FUCK’ was ‘THAT’: I can only assume the THAT you are referring to is an impact against the Roanoke’s hull from a Coalition plasma cannon. We are currently under attack.”

[color=lightblue]”Lead with that first next time!”[/color] Ingram cursed at the ship VI, also sprinting to the doors behind Abi. With a sort of practiced grace, Ingram transitioned easily from the false gravity inside the Officer’s lounge to the low/zero gravity of the ship’s halls. 

[i]”All hands, brace for emergency dismount.”[/i]

The ship shuddered as it ripped itself away from its docking mounts on Horizon Point. Those onboard the ship felt it shifting, as the ship rapidly pulled away from the exploding station, and began to reorient itself in space. 

[i]”General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill.[/i]

Already pushing himself down the ship’s hallways, Ingram grabbed his comm and barked into it, almost echoing the captain’s voice above him as it rang throughout the hallway.

[color=lightblue]”7th Squadron scramble! I want everyone off their ass and in their mechs, we have 5 minutes, do it in 3.”[/color]
[hr]
Minutes later, Ingram and other pilots of the 7th squadron were tearing into the Roanoke’s hangar, which was already a mess of activity. Pilots sprinted for their crafts while engineers rushed to their stations, shouting things at one another and pointing at datapads and screens. Unnecessary or momentarily irrelevant materials were unceremoniously shoved aside as Ultra-light MAS lifters attached last minute munitions to mechs that still needed servicing.

Half climbing, half throwing himself into the chest cavity of his MAS, Ingram mashed a key on the side of his cockpit, shutting himself into the darkness. With a short breath, he pulled his helmet over his head and sealed himself within his flight suit. The helmet whirred to life as it booted up and connected to his neural implant, painting a heads up display over the helmet’s faceplate. As the MAS itself sprang to life, the walls seemed to become transparent, becoming what the ‘head’ of the MAS saw. Ingram turned his head left and right and was satisfied that the Sparrowhawk’s movements mimicked his.    


Ingram looked up as the massive hangar doors above them began to pull open, leaving a thin oxygen shield as the only thing preventing the entirety of the hangar from venting out. Above them, the inky black void of space, dotted by stars, now occupied with dozens upon dozens of ships. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and the exploding Horizon Point station loomed above them, as flashes of light from railguns and plasma cannons streaked across the black empty. Tiny flecks of blue lights- the thrusters of MAS and aerospace fighters zig zagged and spiraled around, lights flashing as their weapons fired, silent flowers of orange and white taking their place as weapons connected with them. 

[color=cyan]
[b]> Confirming Pilot Assignment: LCDR Ingram Shaw_
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems...

> Reactor Unit: Online_
> Life Supportt: Online_ 
> Targeting AI: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Online_

> All Calibrations Complete
> All Systems Functional
> Standby for Launch[/b][/color]

Above them, lines dictating each MAS’ projected path out of the hangar was displayed in realtime 3D. A screen flashed in front of Ingram’s face, control tower giving him and the 7th squadron authorization to launch- not that he would’ve waited for them to give the OK anyway.  

[color=lightblue]”This is Boss. All green, all green. 7th Squadron, comms check.”[/color]

He paused for the briefest moment, waiting for everyone to report clear before he continued. [color=lightblue]”Communications with Command are cut. We’re not sure what we’re flying into so expect the worst. Primary objective is the Roanoke, other allied vessels should be protected if possible, but the Roanoke holds prio. Updates on the fly, launch when ready.”[/color]

There was a hiss as the cables connecting the Sparrowhawk to the ship were disconnected, removing the MAS from the Roanoke’s grid, electromagnetic rails quickly propelling the Roanoke’s MAS’ into the black void of space. The Sparrowhawk’s thrusters activated as he cleared the threshold of the Roanoke’s hangar, banking off to get out of the way of other launching craft. 

Taking a moment to orient himself, Ingram remembered how much he hated space combat. No solid ground or cover, fire could come from almost any angle- and at any distance. The only thing keeping him from dying in a vacuum was a few layers or armor. 

Approaching the Roanoke was a Coalition cruiser and a pair of light frigates, intent on crippling the small carrier before it was able to clear Horizon Point and fall back to the carrier lines. At the head of the small Coalition force was two full squadrons of Coalition MAS, Ingram’s targeting computers tracking no less than 8 Fenrir IIs and a pair of heavy Hardballers, led by a Fenrir III. A quartet of Garmrs screened their approach, also led by another Fenrir III. 

[color=lightblue]”Watch yourself, watch your wingman. All units, weapons free.”[/color]