[There is something to be said for the maneuverability of the Bal craft - they are fast and securely shielded, well gunned and solid - but there is no no avoiding the trap for which the two gunships have fallen. The two come together in the ship's wake, born into one another by their rugged engine systems. One scrapes up across the other, bearing the brunt of the silent impact on its port bow. Shield plating crumbles between them. Fires burn and then die in the vacuum and super heated metal liquefies to pour from the deck and then freezes into shrapnel propelled out. The lights on the bow of one of the gunships flickers and then dies. Perhaps given a few more seconds the ship will begin to break apart.
But the fate of the two gunships and their crews are negligible. The distraction of their impact provides at least the moments for the Bal ship in Anakin's command to lengthen the distance between it and the armada. It is not, strictly, a clean escape but very few are.
One of the Empress's councilors takes this moment to unbuckle their restraints, grabbing the handholds along the top of the ship's compartment to hoist themselves to their feet and struggle toward the cockpit. It's not more than a few strides but the heavy robe the woman - she appears to be a woman anyway, her long hair intricately braided and her voice very sweet - wears seems to make it difficult.]
We're past them? [There is something cool and deliberate in the question, a rattling undercurrent of intent and anxiety in her skin.] Did any of the other ships escape?
[From the back of the ship, the Last Empress - pale and elaborately appointed despite their dire straights - has leaned just a fraction forward to see. Her attention is sharp like a blade, over large eyes focused on the three of them at the fore of the ship.
There is a long, perhaps residual sensation like a shadow stretching from the Bal armada here to inside the ship: a whisper - that maybe they haven't yet escaped danger.]
hello friends :)
But the fate of the two gunships and their crews are negligible. The distraction of their impact provides at least the moments for the Bal ship in Anakin's command to lengthen the distance between it and the armada. It is not, strictly, a clean escape but very few are.
One of the Empress's councilors takes this moment to unbuckle their restraints, grabbing the handholds along the top of the ship's compartment to hoist themselves to their feet and struggle toward the cockpit. It's not more than a few strides but the heavy robe the woman - she appears to be a woman anyway, her long hair intricately braided and her voice very sweet - wears seems to make it difficult.]
We're past them? [There is something cool and deliberate in the question, a rattling undercurrent of intent and anxiety in her skin.] Did any of the other ships escape?
[From the back of the ship, the Last Empress - pale and elaborately appointed despite their dire straights - has leaned just a fraction forward to see. Her attention is sharp like a blade, over large eyes focused on the three of them at the fore of the ship.
There is a long, perhaps residual sensation like a shadow stretching from the Bal armada here to inside the ship: a whisper - that maybe they haven't yet escaped danger.]