Trapped in the capital ship's tractor beam, the ambassador frigate moves slowly towards the cruiser. The crew struggles to squeeze more power out of their reactor while the few marines on board take positions next to the hatches, wiping sweat from their brows as they check and re-check their weapons. Finally, bringing all the power the ship has to bare, the frigate is able to break the hold of the tractor beam and regain its trajectory, slowly but surely increasing the distance, before finally escaping the planet's moon and being able to jump to hyperspace. Shouts of joy echo down the ship's corridors and extra rations are ordered in celebration.
Engines burning brightly, the corvette sprints through the blockade, trying to minimize the amount of fire its meager shields will have to absorb. Top and bottom turrets swivel to port, unleashing return fire against inbound interceptors. The ground drops from under everyone's feet as the artificial gravity systems flicker for a second as a pulse weapon detonates nearby. The high-pitched, distant whine of the reactor is barely audible over commands issuing from the bridge. The visual readouts indicated that they were now past the picket line, and the interceptors appeared to be breaking off, unsure of their ability to take on the much larger ship without the support of their battle stations. They'd made it. Looking back at the scopes, the coordinator's head hung down. They'd been the only ones to do so.
As the Pelta-Class Picket ship danced between the larger destroyers and dreadnaughts, it continued its near constant barrage of heavy laser cannon fire, interspersed with individual launches of concussion missiles and proton torpedoes directed at vulnerable parts of the opposing fleet. If too many of those enemy guns came to bear on the the Pelta, it would be in trouble, but it's speed and it's relatively limited firepower made it a less-than juicy target. For now. But that is exactly what it's captain needed. Just a few more clicks and they would be in a perfect flanking position, able to pound the engines of the flag ship as soon as it's shields were brought down by the bombing squad beginning their run now.
Large ships occupy the pinnacle of size for most private owner/operators in the galaxy. Large ships require an extensive crew and are costly to maintain, but can pack quite a punch and may house various suites and operation centers that allow the ship to operate as an impressive and mobile base of operations for wealthy individuals and successful adventurers.
