Cutting Through Like A Sabre

Posted on Sun Jun 21st, 2026 @ 2:44am by Ensign Grace MacKenzie 'Sabre'

1,181 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Flight Of The Valkyries
Timeline: During 'On The Assault'

“Tally Ho!” She called over the wing comm, “Pickle, Starburst, were going skimming, five and seven, half klick trail, prepare for targeting solutions. Snowflake, we’ll break trail, draw some fire.” Finally she switched her transmission to just herself and her two companions while she could still listen to the wing comm. This was what flying was all about, even if it meant dodging friendly fire on the way.

The trio of fighters zipped out and away from the main wing, giving themselves not only more maneuvering room, but also making themselves a more tempting target to those thirty-eight weapons platforms to focus on at least temporarily. "Sabre, are you sure this is a good idea?" The young voice of Starburst came over their group comm.

"Not a chance, but someone's gotta make a move and if all we do is stand off and launch with the rest of them and the starships, we're at the same risk as them." Grace took a few seconds to adjust her seat to something slightly more comfortable, "Stick with me as long as you're comfortable, no longer, Bursty, you good Pickle?"

"Green to go." The silence of the other pilot was apparent, but he was a solid pilot and she was happy to have him along.

"Flicker in five.." Grace settled herself back in her seat for the brief flicker of warp that would close the distance to the starbase nearly instantly. It could also smash them against it like eggs against a concrete floor, but it avoided the whole runup to the station. "Four..." She was going to get murdered by Snowflake if she survived this little stunt, "Three..."

"Aborting." Starburst suddenly veered off, looping back away to the main swarm and Grace swore internally, but didn't argue the point. He was the smart one here

"Two... Pull out immediately. One..." She exhaled and settled her stomach, "Engage." The two remaining Valkyries seemed to elongate briefly and vanished.

They reappeared a fraction of a second later, both craft making an instant flaring maneuver as the surface rushed to meet them. Simultaneously, they threw all power to reversing their power and kicking their anti-grav into high gear. "Front." Grace grunted, the inertial compensator overloaded by the maneuver and both craft went into forward motion power again as they levelled off with barely fifty feet to spare from the surface.

Something popped beneath Grace and she felt a lurch as her anti-grav system shorted out, but it had served it's purpose. Landing back on Tokyo would be more challenging, but first she had to survive this. Lancets of weapons fire reached for the sky as the weapons platforms began to spit defiance up at the starships and the cloud of fighters making their way closer.

"You still with me, Pickle?" Grace asked as they accelerated once more, twitching the stick to avoid structures that poked out of the surface.

"On your five, awaiting targeting solutions." The calm voice of the man who'd already lost his wingmate came through.

"Copy, taking it up a notch." Her throttle went forward and the 'ground' below became a blur. Smaller weapons platforms began to fire at her, truly close-in defense weaponry and she took a glance to make sure her telemetry was being transmitted out to the rest of the wing.

Her thumb moved of it's own accord and transmitted one of the main energy battery locations to her wingmate and a pair of torpedoes flashed past her on either wing before she altered course, seeing an explosion off to her right even as she was taking shots at some of the smaller installations with her pulse phasers, pinprick explosions playing off to either side as she led an unpredictable course across the skin of the station.

A voice she couldn't recognize came across the comm, "What the hell are you doing out there, Sabre?" It was female and gruff, but she couldn't take her eyes off to see who it was.

"Just making a distraction, ma'am." Grace responded, banking hard right after targeting a second main energy battery, the flash of the explosion making her shields opaque briefly, no, that was the impact of some small anti-starfighter defenses, she veered towards them, her pulse phasers firing again in small bursts.

The hull blurred by beneath her and now it wasn't just defensive fire from the station that Grace saw coming at her: Incoming fire from the six carriers and hundreds of friendly fighters was beginning to pepper the metal around her and she knew it would rapidly become untenable as everyone came closer, but she was determined to do what damage she could.

One of her turns brought her face to face with another battery at short range and she jerked up on her stick, "Pickle, break break break" She flipped on her axis and the instant she was 'above' the battery, went into a reverse G and flipped again to right direction up. A larger explosion behind her and a flicker of her screen and Grace knew that Pickle had eaten something, whether enemy fire or plowing into a structure, she didn't know. The red square on her HUD was clear, though.

By herself now, Grace accelerated even more, continuing to fire at targets of opportunity, causing even more small explosions as the friendly fire became more intense around her. A bright beam and several torpedoes impacted the hull of the station in front of her and Grace half-screamed as she jerked up and to the left to avoid the phaser fire and explosion pattern of the missiles, bringing herself into view of several anti-starfighter batteries that began to track her with their fire, making it look like a pyramid with her about to be at the point of it.

Her shields took the hits, then collapsed and the fighter bucked and jerked as the fire impacted the body and wings, right lights flashing on her screen and this time Grace screamed for real into a dead comm channel before her craft came out of the apex and clawed for more space between her and the station. Her scream trailed off as the batteries began a more general array of fire and the young pilot breathed heavily as a chill began to surround her.

Grace reached out with trembling hands as she hit a few buttons on the dashboard and her shields evened out severely weakened but now protecting her again. "Sabre to Snowflake, Ah'm okay, got some structural damage, but good t-to fly. Still got phasers, but Ah'm leakin' a little atmo." She understated the situation, the cockpit was fully depressurized, but her suit forcefield was holding. She'd be fine for about a half hour, especially now that she cranked up the heat in the confined space. Her self-contained air would last at least an hour.

The fighter finally interspersed with the incoming fighters and she began a more leisurely turn to follow them back in... Maybe Snowflake would let her stay out here. Maybe.

END:

Mission Post by

Ensign Grace MacKenzie
Fighter Pilot
USS Tokyo

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