Title:           “Can't take much more – breaking off!” Breaker could hear the inertial
Author:          HoofFetishWritefag
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/rPe3pCGu
First Edit:      Thursday 5th of December 2013 10:23:28 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 5th of December 2013 10:23:28 AM CDT

        “Can't take much more – breaking off!”
        Breaker could hear the inertial dampeners in his ship whining as they strained to repress the immense g-force generated by the sudden change in attitude. Purple bolts of energy streamed past his canopy as the Novahkine fighters attempted to take potshots at him as he disengaged. Their insectoid hulls made them look like so many bees swarming the Orion's glimmering hull, and he grimaced at the sight. The human forces were easily outnumbered ten-to-one by their alien attackers, and at this point in time he was definitely feeling the pressure.
        His earpiece buzzed angrily as the tac-ops officer cut in. “Breaker, reengage immediately!”
        “Negative, Tactical, I'm in a bad way here.” The pilot scanned his instruments quickly, grunting a bit as the gees caught up with his ship. “The zoomies scratched me up pretty bad, gear's showing my engines at 80 and dropping.”
        “We don't exactly have a lot of options here, Breaker,” the officer responded angrily. “The Novahkine are tearing us up, too, and we aren't well-off either.”
        He was right, of course; pulses of blue light indicated the magnetic-impulse cannons coating the warship launching off point-defense slugs at relativistic velocities, occasional brief but brilliant flashes of purple light indicating that they found their mark on zoomie targets and obliterated them in a magnificent display of mass-energy equivalence. But there were too many, moving too fast, and even the carrier's mighty array of guns were overwhelmed by the enemy assault. Already, many of the hardpoints were open to space, their weapon systems destroyed by concentrated plasma-cannon fire.
        Breaker growled in frustration, and keyed his comms channel. “Well, fine, you got me any wingmen yet?”
        “Wait one.” It was a very long 'one', as Breaker found himself pursued by an element of the enemy fighters and began a series of maneuvers to break contact. “Right, Deck's reporting two on the apron and prepping for launch. You want the bad news or the worse news?”
        “Bludgeon and Heat, right?”
        “You got it, ace.”
        Breaker groaned angrily. Of course, it would be the two most inexperienced pilots aboard. The Orion's stable wasn't exactly full, granted, but- “I take it Odin's still not cleared for continued operation?”
        “You want me to answer that?”
        “Not really.” Breaker sighed, shifting to a pursuit of the nearest retreating enemy fighter. Perhaps realizing the immense danger presented by the human starfighter, they began jinking spasmodically, attempting to break contact with his powerful mass driver battery.  When you're talking about projectiles moving at significant fractions of the speed of light, though, 'dodging' goes out the window. “Just get them out here.”
        A chirp indicated that the targeting systems had plotted out a pattern likely to impact the enemy ship, and prompted him to tap the relevant button on his flightstick. The capacitors gave a mighty hum as they dumped energy into the twin railguns, and his canopy flashed crimson as the projectiles emitted a tiny burst of redshifted radiation on their way towards the target. A satisfying blast of purple light showed that his shots had done their job, and he keyed the channel. “Tactical, Breaker, MD on target, good effect. Hard kill confirmed.”
        “Good job, Breaker. Only 23 more to go,” the tactical officer responded sardonically.