Casus Belli (Tygaran Alliance/Galactic Alliance vs First Order Rebellion of Kaeshana)

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Allies: [member="Trextan Voidstalker"], [member="Nima Tann"], [member="Tempest"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Elliot Locke"]
Enemies: [member="Rolf Amsel"], FO people. Engaging Rolf's mooks.


After all the fighting, Elpsis just felt numb and hollow. Perhaps that was the only way for an empath to cope when she was surrounded by bloodshed upon the field of battle. She spared the Jedi a glance after he passed over the sabre of darkness.


There was a moment of puzzlement before two and two clicked together. "Voidstalker's your dad? I didn't know. I saw him further down the trenches. Think he's fighting," she pointed in the rough direction. She didn't know that the Jedi was presently engaging a Ren.


She turned and saw Tempest had taken off like a whirlwind. Moreover, she could perceive the withdrawing First Order troops. Her brow furrowed in concern. "I'll go...keep her from doing something...silly," she spoke to Nima. Wait, since when was Elpsis the person for that? Character development or serious ooc moment? You decide.


Anyhow, the firemane activated her jetpack and dashed off after the Dahomian. Smoke was in the air, but Tempest's elemental wind dispersed it. One hand held a glowing orange lightsabre, from the other burst a scalding stream of flame to disperse the cryoban.


As she landed, blaster fire came her way. She used her free hand to channel the Force, summoning a thermic lance like blast at close range. Common fireballs would probably not be efficient against stormtrooper armour, but the blast would slice through their suits like plasma. At the passage of the bolt of intense, concentrated heat, she moved forth to engage, deflecting blaster bolts and hacking with her sword.

 

[Hansen]

FN-888 "Helden"
Kaeshana Southern Hemisphere, Humanitarian Camp.

Joan raises left vambrace beneath faceplate with the entrenching tool in hand, digging through the tough rock that laid beneath her dirtied boots. Pain shoots across breast with each heave from the blaster wound she received earlier at the citadel of dawn. "Suggestion noted, get it done Sergeant Cain, over." Joan's blue eyes from behind polarised visor glance towards Malachor while the several AT-STs take positions around the perimeter with the hydraulic clang of legs. The loading of children into Malachor's hold appears to be going slow albeit handled with care by Stormtroopers who if nothing else would obey their Platoon commanders' orders without question or defiance. "I'm so damn sick of this planet." Joan utters a curse and returns attention to shovel and buries it into the hard clay-like soil, everything is a struggle on this scarred world and for a moment despair overtakes her. Cain's men might find themselves digging shoulder-to-shoulder with Joan's Stormtroopers.

"Dig like you're looking for the Alliance's honour and dignity gentlemen!" Sev shouts strongly at the Stormtroopers, his powerful arms powering the shovel through Earth like a knife through hot butter. Throwing debris over his shoulder like a man possessed. The platoon remains relatively unenthusiastic about digging another five-foot deep slit trench, however.

Hotshot ignites the end of a cigarette with the small jet of fire at the end of the flamethrower, he stuffs it between lips and lazily takes a drag of it. A puff of smoke rises before face with his emerald looking leisurely over the tiny disturbance in the Earth's face at feet. A great wolfish smirk spreads across lips and he gives a swipe at the narrow strip of copper hair that reaches down his cheek. "Might as well give up now Sarge, we're not going to find it!" Hotshot's eyes dart around amongst the chuckling Stormtroopers. "Seriously! We came to Kaeshana to deliver relief supplies and smoke the anti-social! And we're all out of relief supplies so...." Hotshot gives the shrug of shoulders with a grin. "Guess I'm going to have to end up putting them all into my ashtray!" Hotshot's eyes look over the Cigarette and then back to the modest hole at his feet. Realising he'd need a larger hole. "Better get digging I guess, we've got to make room for all of them." Hotshot's voice becomes disturbingly calm as he flicks the end of cigarette into the infant trench and plunges his E.T into the Earth.

Nearby at Fenrik, the FIV Whisperer begins its descent into the lower atmosphere. With its blonde-haired age weathered officer staring out of the transparisteel viewports over the scar-ridden landscape of Kaeshana. "Helm, bring us down over the Humanitarian camp, roughly five kilometers to the west over the water." Dietrich swirls the ice-cube filled cup of whiskey before downing the whole thing with a single gulp and growling fiercely, looking over the empty cup with blue eyes.



[member="Pharazon Draken"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

Location: Dawn
Objective: [Kill]
Allies: None

Enemies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]
--

Things go fast when the battle raged around you and inside of you.

The heat in his blood was starting to rise as adrenaline came into his system. Time slowed, a snarl tugged at his mouth as he only made side-wise contact with his shoulder. The momentum carried him forward and he careened into the wall. It was dirt, mud and dust, but the sheer volume send a shock through him.

Pain and anger, but there was no time to take it easy. Every second that you spend hurting, was a moment that your target could inflict damage on you or worse, could escape.

He turned around, right in time to see Rolf grab for something on the table behind him.

Locke managed to sidestep just in time, the iron block slamming into his armored shoulder. It hurt like a fether, bruising, maybe worse, but he didn't feel worse with the adrenaline coursing. Now they were close to each other though and Locke used that, before Rolf could retreat back... retreat to where, with the table behind him?

The SIS agent grabbed for him, by the shoulders and his helmet came down against Amsel's face.

Maybe a nose, maybe a brow, but the transparisteel visor would hurt at best.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Citadel of Dawn,
[member="Joza Perl"]

The Zeltron fled from his assault, his lightsabre coming close to actually revealing her insides to the outside world, but in a way that he hadn't thought possible, her stomach tucked into her body and she pulled away from him. With her again moving along his flank, he was going to press his apparent advantage in chasing her, but with her left arm previously blocking his vision, a familiar looking sword flicked past his vision.

His right hand exploded in pain.

Her phrik blade struck the gauntlet at the wrist, not as thick so that to remain nimble in such heavy armour. However, it didn't cut through the armour entirely. Likely well known to the both of them, phrik was light, his own armour was heavy, a mixture of duraplast and phrik, a combination that left it heavy. The duraplast in place prevented it from actually chopping the entire hand off, but it was enough for him to realize the hand was no longer operable. The shield emitter was located close to the wrist, close enough that the embedded sword prevented it from actually activating again. Undoubtedly close enough to also stop the progress of the sword.

Glancing down to the wrist, it was almost as if there was a lull in the battle. Time slowed for A'sharad, not due to Force speed, no, he had ceased using that some time ago. However, his right arm ceased moving as he processed what was going on. Simultaneously, his warped, perhaps his still cooling left arm lunged out to her midsection with the intent of winding her, or send her flying away, with a force aided strength, who knew what she was capable of anyway. Perhaps he actually broke some of those ribs that were mentioned earlier, that is, if he struck her.

"Get me out of here." His voice rasped over an encrypted channel. The ones who heard it were the only ones who he needed right now. From above, the cloaked Infiltrator dropped from its high altitude to the earth below.

 

[Progflaw99]

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[ source img ] ​

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Jaius Sovv"] | [member="Aermoira Cyone"] | [member="Anya Venari"] | [member="Irajah Ven"]​

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Footsteps trod through the muck of the earth at the mouth of the Northernmost river on the East side of the oceanlike cove which pushed inward towards the equator of the continent. Nate's feet had slipped several times across the muddy terrain, mud and dirt coating the sealed environment suit from the knee down. As they got closer to the large central tent, he could see scattered native Eldorai, or what he presumed to be them - many of them looked glad to simply be away from the fighting though guarded. His arrival was greeted with many blank stares, and even a frown or two. It was fair he supposed, the Eldorai to be naturally wary of those who'd simply appeared from the vacuum of space. Truthfully, Nate knew little of the culture surrounding the Eldorai - though given the unfolding events he could assume he wasn't the only one. As his heavy footsteps carried him closer and closer to the central ring of tents, he quietly wondered to himself. Did the Eldorai even have a say in what happened here, on their world? If the records were to be trusted, the largest bulk of the Eldorai had evacuated the planet after the asteroid devastated its population, even with only a quarter of its mass remaining. All of that was history, though perhaps not widely known and now, here on their sacred ground, blood was being shed - and not only that of foreign powers but the Eldorai had found themselves squarely in the center of the storm.

As it appeared however the Eldorai, like many other species, did require sustenance and have very real needs - even if they were a bit hardier due to the awful living conditions on the surface of Kaeshana. Strangely enough it reminded Nate of Riflor in a way, though the landscape was vastly different. While Riflor was a geologically unstable mess in some areas, the landscape was actually quite inviting, greens of the foliage, blues of the oceans, it was all quite tranquil - the same couldn't be said about the muted undertones of the place they now occupied. Taking the last few steps towards the tent, he reached out - pulling it open and stepping inside. As he ducked in, he wondered momentarily what the planet had looked like before the tragedy had struck. Upon entering the tent, all semblance of order was thrown out - aides and medical staff bustling past, some had datapads, others strange looking equipment. He felt a bit lost and for a moment he was content to observe the goings on. Jarred from his musings, he scanned the interior of the tent, trying to see whom was in charge.

Unable to determine a method to the madness, he did the next best thing. Reaching out to a passing med-tech, he raised his hands in the air.

"Who's in charge here?" A confused look from the med-tech hinted that he hadn't spoken loud enough, or he'd forgotten to activate the vocoder on his enviro-suit. Flipping a switch at his waist, he reverbalized his question. "Who's in charge here?" Responding quickly the med-tech replied.​

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"Doc Ven was supposed to be, we haven't seen her for a while - Knowing her, she probably headed to the Front."​

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Strange that no one had assumed command, or done any looking at all for 'Doc Ven' but glancing around once more, he could understand why. As he turned back to ask another question of the technician - but she was gone, instead a clanging alarm began to sound, all movement in the tent freezing for a moment, and then feet were once more rapidly shuffling. An automated voice sounded over the in-tent intercom announcing the arrival of a shuttle - multiple if the roar of engines was anything to go by. Swept up in the moment, Nate followed the rest of the medical staff now exiting through the rear of the tent into the open ground behind that had been designated as a landing area. At first all he saw were the shuttles, the medical staff swarming with stretchers. *Wounded?* He didn't have to wait long to find out. Immediately as the boarding ramps had descended he saw the stark white of Stormtrooper armor - though this wasn't a troop deployment. Mud and traces of crimson covered their armor looking like something out of a horror holo as they lifted the bodies of their brothers and sisters onto the stretchers from the deck of the shuttles. A muted silence overtook the governor just then, his eyes witness to the horrors of the fighting happening elsewhere. Some were missing parts, others clear burn marks from who knew what kind of battlefield device. It made his stomach turn.

Silently he watched as the medical staff hurriedly collected the wounded and deposit them in the medical tent before rushing to grab more. At the top of the boarding ramp, another soldier stood, the trooper swabbing off the deck plating, blood washing from it and falling into the dry dirt below. The earth was thirsty, absorbing it quickly at first and then beginning to pool. Their casualties dropped off, the shuttles once more took to the sky. The refugee camp had just become a casualty evacuation point... Once more brought back to reality by the passing of the final stretcher, he was overcome. Overcome with sadness, anger, hurt. These people didn't deserve this, those soldiers didn't deserve this - there had to be another way. What authority did he have though, as only a Commissioner. Full Stop. He wasn't a Commissioner, at least not any longer. He was Governor - Governor of the entirety of Riflor. An idea began to form in his head, his footsteps leading him back towards the main tent.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Aermoira Cyone and the Science Group were now closer to the ground, with 4KM worth of the finest First Imperial Vessels. "Set us down easy," she informed her lieutenant, as she gave her orders to the rest of the group on a secure channel. "This is Commander Aermoira Cyone, all science group crew members. Secure all files, experiments and mobile equipment properly and be sure to hand them to logistics management so we might get a thorough count of what we have. All medical personnel are to report directly to the med tents, engineering crew you are to assist in the dismantling of the fleet."

She paused for a moment as the spit of land reserved for them came to greet them. "We're nearing our landing, so please, when you disembark do so in a fashion befitting your station. We've got a lot of boots on the ground and I want you all to be of assistance in anyway you can. Security, set up check points surrounding the preimeter. I want all weapons to be set up to guard our entry and exit points."

Essentially taking all ship weaponry systems and recreating them to fire toward any oncoming enemies. "Landing in three, two, one." A lieutenant remarked as she then secured the landing. "FIV Emerson on the ground, FIV Engel is landing shortly."

Aermoira checked the chronometer, "fantastic, right then the Stellaris will be the last ship to land."

Elsewhere on Kaeshana, Major Leona Eldrel aboard the FIV Guardian stood behind the cockpit as they recieved a transmission for emergency evac. "Right, we're just gonna have to hope no one tries to shoot at us." She says as she rushes to the back. "We can only take ten of them, where's the FIV Balance?"

"Right behind us, another Steadfast is inbound as well." Most likely coming from the now smoked out husk of the former FIV Wrath that now straddled the mountains with its corpse. She took a breath and grabbed the gear from the locker. "Nothing like a good ol' fashion hot extraction to get the blood going." Eldrel comments toward the cockpit, "get me into position."

"Right, [member="Rexus Wenck"], this is FIV Guardian we are inbound to your position. We can take ten of your men, ASAP, FIV Balance is right behind us. We're not built for combat so you're gonna have to haul arse, got it?"

Securing herself to the harness she gave the cockpit a thumbs up as she looked over toward another rescue jumper. "We're good to go."

"Ten-four, ten-four alright Gunners, we are a few seconds out from your position." The pilot looked over on his radar, "great - TIE Squadron, TIE Squadron this is FIV Guardian requesting cover fire, over."

A harsh comms reply came forward, mostly static but they could make out. "Varact- Squa- wil- cov- ten-four."

Ishana Pavanos was already busy, but she could see the FIV Guardian and the other two Steadfast-class ships coming to extract what was left of the ground troops. "Varactyl form up, strafing run provide as much cover fire for [member="Rolf Amsel"] and his boys."

The scene that unfolded was the scene of a singular TIE Interceptor squadron with their fighters smoking - barely hanging on as it was having gone through a considerable amount of anti-air. Medical cutters performing the job of emergency evac as rescue jumpers worked to secure any wounded onto their ships with the hopes that no one would dare strike at them.

Nearby the FIV Blackwell, the namesake of the Blackwell-class medical transport could be seen forming in behind the cutters.

Major Eldrel is the first set of rescue boots to hit the trenches. "Sergeants!" She shouted toward the set of troopers, "let's move, move, move - we're getting the stretcher down." She said just as the team in the Guardian began to lower it down.

Meanwhile in the Southern Hemisphere, Aermoira Cyone's Science Group sans the Stellaris has touched down, forming up Base Emerson and Base Regina within a short distance of one another. [member="Garett Van"] and the engineers at Fenrik along with the onboard engineers will work to dismantle the ships and transform them into aforementioned bases.

[member="Nathaniel Barrett"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | [member="FN-888"]

 

[HK-36]

Character: Adventures of NPC Greycloak "Iron-Hide"
Location: Battle for the Citadel of the Dawn,
Objective: NPC Fight, survive the chaos, help Joza
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"], [member="Joza Perl"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Asharad Graush"],
Forces: 1 Greycloak, clad in Protectorate Power Armor, 2x Electro-Cestus, armed with Magnetic Revolvers, heavy Magnetic Repeater, generic blue-crystal lightsabers, and Spear of Rae.

The HK droid begun to move towards Kaine and Sio once more, effects of Kaine's electrical assault wearing out. One hand still clutching the durasteel chair almost bent in half, the other a lightsaber hilt, he strutted forward, his grey chameleon cloak burnt off of his body, his armor charred and marked with numerous gashes from lightsaber attacks, he activated his own energy sword, ready for combat once more.

It was then that Siobhan unleashed a powerful telekinetic attack, sending Kaine flying across the battlefield down into some crevice or cliff face, the machine could not pick up on where he was thrown as a cloud of dust rose from the ground in the wake of the Force-borne attack,

"Next time maybe save us the trouble and just open with that?"

Sio would hear the Greycloak over the comm, nodding to her when she thanked him for the support, in the following days the droids will claim that it was the chair being broken over Kaine's back that did him in, Siobhan only cleaned up the remains with the Force assault. Either way, the machine continued the transmission to Kerrigan,

"One of my copies could use some aid by the Northern trenches, they are pushing up against remaining Sith with spider-droids. I will move to Joza's last remaining position, see if we can rally up our Kathol allies."

And the droid was off as they parted their ways for now, Siobhan heading towards Raxus, Mao, Djacen and others in that messy trench, the Greycloak heading towards Ash and Joza.


It would take him few minutes at least but finally both Asharad and Joza would be able to hear the crunch of gravel and debris beneath heavy footsteps as the droid would begin to close in on their position from behind Asharad so that Joza would see him first.

Bzzzzzzzzztm,

There was the sound of his lightsaber activating as the blue energy blade shot out from the simple generic hilt of his plasma sword.

"We defeated Darth Carnifex."

The droid spoke out, unbeknowst to him there was a cloaked transport somewhere above lowering down to pick up Asharad,

"I am here to help you clean up."

There would be no attack yet, the machine had just arrived and it would be too far to close in right away, plus he would probably end up dealing with soldiers under Asharad's command, should any remain in the area.

In his off-hand he was still holding that bent, charred, smoking chair that was used to slam into Kaine and distract him just few minutes ago, leading up to his latest downfall.

 

[Progflaw99]

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In Vicinity:​

Samka Derith | Asharad Graush​

Torian Pierce | Lydia Finn-Camden​

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Objective: Repel the Unknown Assailant (Elliot Locke), Displace just South of the Citadel​

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Enemies: Those Resisting the First Order​

[member="Tempest"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"]​

[member="Elliot Locke"] | @GA/Firemane Troops​

--- --- ---​

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Rolf's arm came down with a crushing amount of power, the metal block slamming into his opponents shoulder. Not by any means a blow that would render his enemy out of the fight but it certainly felt solid enough to leave a sting. Not more than a moment after making contact the Major felt the man's arms sliding up over his shoulders and grasping - in his mind he could already see what happened next but it was too late to do more than tuck his chin before the transparisteel of the soldier's helmet slammed into his skull. Whether a matter of chance or of fate, the crushing blow of the man's helmet landed squarely on his crown, the angle enough to prevent him from being knocked unconscious outright - though the pain was near crippling. Without looking he could feel a laceration open up along his hairline, blood immediately rising to the surface and smearing across a portion of his opponents helmet. The jarring contact sent his head spinning, the pain causing his eyes to shut and mind recoil. This was no longer a battle for the ruins of a long lost citadel, no longer a superiority match between the soldiers of the Galactic Alliance and the Stormtroopers of the First Order - no - this was a fight for survival.

Bringing the metal block back up, under his enemy's arms he yet clasped the instrument in his right hand. Driving its hard edge towards the soldier's ribs. Rolf himself struggled to reorient himself, using the man's grip on his left shoulder to balance himself as he fought the stars spinning in his vision. Blood covered the right side of Rolf's face, matting the hair on his head as it slowly began to coagulate, dripping down and creating a stark crimson stain across his gloss white armor.

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The remainder of the FIST continued to withdraw, displacing farther south as they continued to cover their retreat. Contrary to most of the normal rank and file of the First Order Stormtroopers on the field of battle, the First Imperial Shock Troopers had switched to using their sonic blasters as in such close quarters they were more effective. An additional upside is that the weapon when fired was much less concentrated, affecting a much larger area, therefore making a miss less likely. Firing in ranks as they systematically fell back, one squad covering the next, their eyes landed on the pair of dark Jedi who'd accosted them from above. Even as they landed the Cryoban grenades were thrown, as they progressed in their displacement the troopers threw glop grenades which would cover the ground in a near inescapable mess of adhesive. To follow would be excessively difficult, only amplified by the high volume of sonic blaster fire in their direction. If all else failed, their KD-30's could be used, hollowed out acid slugs the standard loadout for the FIST. Their primary goal was to tactically displace, allowing themselves the opportunity to link back up with the main force, just south of the Citadel but if given the opportunity would unleash everything at their disposal against the two new threats that had appeared.

Remaining troopers now performing a tactical withdrawal along the Eastern side of the battlefield and heading south of the Citadel of Dawn.

Spoiler

1 x FO-01 Stormtrooper Armor

1 x KD-30 "Dissuader" Slugthrower
1 x F-11 D Blaster Rifle (Rolf's is now Missing)
1 x SWE/2 Sonic Rifle

3 x CryoBan Grenade
2 x G-20 Glop Grenades
2 x Thermal Detonators
2 x Electromagnetic Pulse Grenade
1 trooper in each squad carries a PLX-1 Portable Missile Launcher instead of Blaster and Sonic Rifles, leaving them with a KD-30 and their launcher.

Troop Complement: 1 Company, 88/200 First Imperial Shock Troopers (See Loadout Above)

OOC: As always, if I missed something or failed to respond to something - please feel free to PM me!

 

[Nima Tann]

Location: Citadel of Dawn
Enemies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] / FO people

When he gave the lightsaber to the Twi'lek, she suddenly felt a slight headache. Well, it was something she was very familiar with so it didn't bother her much. The whispers of achieving greatness and claiming true power hit her mental walls, and they were reflected immediately, not affecting the ex Jedi Master any further than that. With that done, she secured the lightsaber in a hilt and then returned to the scene. [member="Elpsis Elaris"] and [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] were talking at the background, apparently he was looking for his dad, and [member="Tempest"]... Well, she was acting like a Master who just lost her Padawan, and considering her age and her fiery nature, the emotions were a lot more intense, which was understandable but a little dangerous.

Before Nima could do anything about it though, Tempest suddenly lashed out, seeing the retreating enemy, she could feel the emotions raging inside her as she activated her jetpack. Of course, Elpsis followed the angry Dahomian shortly afterwards. Nima sighed, once again, she had to be the responsible one. It almost felt like being with Ice again. Speaking of Ice, she missed that huge pup.

"Good luck finding your father." She said with a nod to the young man before departing as well. "Gotta go keep the two from doing something silly..." There was one little thing though. She didn't have a jetpack! After a serious consideration of modifying her armor to add a jetpack one day, she thought of the second best plan. Acrobatics and Ataru were quite useful, enhanced with Force Speed. It would be funny to watch from an outside perspective, a purple Twi'lek doing flips and acrobatics was following two people with jetpacks, however it was the best plan she had.

After a while, she caught up with the two, and could see what was happening thanks to Elpsis and Tempest's coordinated elemental powers which dispersed the thick smoke. As she landed, she unleashed a telekinetic fist like a punch at the ones who she first saw and were nearest to her. When the concentrated Force hit the group with a quite fast speed, one would imagine many bones would be broken with the impact, if not it would be enough to make them lose balance and fly backwards. Then, of course, the blaster fire started. Nima realised that they weren't your ordinary blaster bolts when her ears started ringing, they were sound waves, so it was not possible to deflect them with a lightsaber. Instead, Nima concentrated to create a quick Force shield in front of her and started to move towards the group. Once close enough, she unleashed another telekinetic force wave towards the ones attacking her, aiming to gain herself time to strike, and once the attack resulted in the way she expected, she jumped, her stance ready to attack.

[member="HK-36"] [member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Curse it all, Ishana thought to herself as her interceptor held itself together on what felt like hopes and prayers at this point. Having previously ordered her squad to form up on a line behind her she checked her radar.

Radiation cut through, but alas her radar would at least show friendly troops and that of Rolf Amsel and what was left of his men. "Alright, ready on the cannons, Varactyl." She ordered with a sense of calm, while internally she was panicking - dread pooled into the pit of her belly. It was like having this feeling you couldn't shake that you knew something was going to happen and you knew better than to try but still, you try anyway. One Sith had no regards for life, the First Order had - she could call it off, but it felt cowardly.

"TIE Squadron, TIE Squadron-"

Was what she heard, Steadfast-class medical cutters looking for coverfire. She couldn't be in two places at once so she had to divide her numbers. "Varactyl squad, on my mark we fire and divide." She'd send at least half her number toward the evac area to keep the Steadfasts free of enemy fire. One shot, and they'd go crashing down - or rather, one well placed TK hit and they'd go down. Ishana wondered if these Dark Cultists would go so far as to shoot someone in the back whilst they were running. All the while proclaiming that the enemy was facing front, or present some alternative fact to justify their bloodlust.

"On approach, Varactyl One - Varactyl Four and Seven what's your status?"

"Varactyl Four on your flank."

"Varactyl Seven opposite flank, we've got you Varactyl One." Came the confirmations from her element leaders. Taking in a deep breath she exhaled and pushed down on the stick. The familiar scream of TIEs swooping down toward the trenches could be heard, the visuals of white stormtroopers seen from the skies above.

"Green on cannons, you are free to engage, I repeat free to engage." Ishana ordered to her squadron and with that said, red bolts pierced down into the trenches shooting at anything that was not in Stormtrooper white. She then got on the communications line with a single flip, to the secure channel. "This is Lieutenant Pavanos, Major - we've got you covered. Go. Go. Go."

The TIEs weren't close to see just which enemy units that the FIST were engaged with, just enough to deliver the blow.

[member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]

Engaging: Galactic/Tygaran Alliance Forces

 

[Zmej Ren]

Ruins of Santaissa
Allies: FO
Enemies: [member="Lynn Corerunner"]
Gear: Green bladed lightsaber, black armour, baton, gun


Silver Jedi, Galactic Alliance – the disciple of Ren hardly cared. Light side practitioners always had a habit of sticking their noses into matters that did not concern them, plus all Jedi followed the very same code and dogma, making them all fair targets in the blonde’s golden hued eyes – and the decision of the Silver Jedi to get involved in this conflict had only cemented the teenager’s conviction to have them wiped out alongside their Alliance cousins. With the gun pointed at the Jedi, ready to take a shot, solely the brunette’s violet lightsaber blade endangered Zmej’s chances at filling her body with smoking holes.

All the Ren had to do was approach the situation correctly. Precision held little value in fights against Force sensitives – spamming shots quickly and chaotically worked better. Knowing that, the blonde agent mentally prepared herself, taking aim at the Jedi’s feet to indicate the blaster’s target lied there before rapidly shifting her aim at the head. Just as her index finger stroked the trigger and violet plasma burst to life in response, an outside noise reached her ears, disturbing Zmej’s focus. Summoned by its master’s plea for help, the Jedi’s ship has arrived, its sudden appearance perfectly synchronized with the light side devotee’s jump aboard.

"Coward!"

A desperate hail of blaster fire licked the Jedi’s fleeing ship and accompanied its retreat until no more shots could possibly hit their mark. Letting out a hiss of disappointment, Zmej loosened her grip the rifle, enraged at the prey's unexpected escape that robbed her of a new lightsaber to join her collection. Silently watching the ship’s silhouette before it vanished from sight, the dark disciple sighed and shook her head. She hated having to retreat, but there was little point in continuation of the fight in her current state – and so the nearest medpac’s contents served their purpose, patching the Ren the best they could, but only doing so much.

As a wave of numbness washed away all pain, the Ren's body became a useless shell incapable of putting up another fight. She needed a doctor and many hours, maybe days of floating in bacta. Walking still remained a locked option, thus getting back to the allied forces turned into a test in its own right. Crippled, she started a slow crawl over Kaeshana’s frozen surface.

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

And then Trextan was alone again. None of the soldiers nearby paid him any heed. For a few seconds he awkwardly turned back and forth on the spot. As young as he was they just saw a Jedi. Someone who could take care of themselves.

"Is there a medic?" He finally asked someone. He was pointed in the direction of a tent a hundred metres away. The situation brought a fact right to the fore of his mind. He'd known it for a while now, but had never faced it head on.

Jacen was about all he had in the Galaxy. He had no half brothers or sisters. His extended family was back on tatooine. His mother and the man he saw as his father had both died. Trextan had never made friends easily in school. Those he had met in the dark valley on Coruscant were either dead or scattered across the galactic plain. The thought was as frustrating as it was disheartening.

He still blamed Jacen for his mother's death, but if he entirely closed himself off to the man what did he have left?

Trextan wearily trudged towards the medical tent. He idly picked at the straps of his armour as he went, if only to take his mind off the realities he didn't want to think about.

 

[Joza Perl]

Location: Citadel of Dawn
Allies: [member="HK-36"] (NPC), [member="Leo Vandermolen"]

While her blade did not sever his hand—she hadn’t imagined that it would slice though the high quality armor like hot butter—she’d done enough damage to render it immobile. While that was good enough for Joza, being up close and personal with the Sith was not without its risks. Case and point, before she could pull away, his left arm came at her in a heavy swat. The phrik of his gauntlet had begun to harden, connecting solidly with her torso and quite literally knocking the wind out of her.

The Zeltron was sent backwards, slightly airborne for a few feet before she found the ground and stumbled into a fall. She had enough sense to deactivate her saber lest she accidentally impale herself, and the phrik blade remained in the outstretched grip of her right arm as she was sent sprawling away from [member="Asharad Graush"]. A shuddering cough vibrated in her throat and she wheezed, scrambling to push herself up from the prone position. The searing pain in her side gave her pause. Damnit. If they weren’t broken before, they’re broken now. He’d managed to break the two lowest ribs and probably bruise the others, a painful affair no matter what way you slice it. Looks like she wouldn’t be doing chest slides for a while!

Graush made no move to approach her, but that didn’t dull Joza’s battle instinct in the least. Instead, her gaze flickered towards the approaching HK unit as he made himself known, coming in from behind the Sith. “Good.” She grunted. In all actuality, she hadn’t known that Carnifex was present on Kaeshana. “Where’d you find a chair, ‘Ache Kay?” Her attention was split, skewed in the favor of the opponent in front of her rather than the friendly closing in from the other side. As such, she only spared the droid a momentary glance, and was quick to assume that it was the same one who’d saved her pregnant ass on Voss. Still she rose, painfully so, hunched to the point where she looked quite tired. As she did, Joza would reach out towards Asharad, a thick tendril of telekinetic energy wrapping tightly around the saber hilt like a whip, attempting to yank it rather roughly and abruptly from his damaged grasp. Her breathing was heavy and she was sweating bullets, but she fought through the pain. Until the guns fell silent and one side had retreated in its entirety, the adrenaline of war would pump through her system.

I’m gonna kick your ass, [member="Dax Fyre"].

Loadout:

Spoiler

-Standard lightsaber (x2)
-Sasori Medium Armor
-Ranger Shotgun
-AI Wrist Blaster
-VT Needle Disruptor
-Tactical Fighting Blade
-Glop Grenade (x2)
-Stun Pearl (x5)

 

[Asharad Graush]

Citadel of Dawn,
[member="HK-36"] (NPC) [member="Joza Perl"].

His opponent was sent away from him, some metres he presumed as his left arm had struck her. He could slightly feel the impact reverberate through his arm, though not to a painful degree, merely, noticeable. Half of his HUD showcased a rapidly lowering countdown, likely the distance of A'sharad to the Infiltrator. The countdown for the time was not shown, though that was likely a cause of the hole in his helmet, and his amber gaze hardened again as he heard another opponent, rather than sensed.

Darth Carnifex has been defeated?

Based on the name that was said, it was expected that the name was important. Glancing over his shoulder to the droid some ways off, Vyrassu's helmet swung back to the Zeltron. Well then, Carnifex was defeated. That was a surprise. Mostly because he hadn't expected other Sith to serve the First Order, though he imagined that that should've been realized when claiming the Pacanth Reach.

"Whose Darth Carnifex?"

And then there was a tug in his right hand. It took a moment to realize that it was his original opponent attempting to disarm him of the weapon in his right hand. The tug was strong enough to pull him forwards when he wasn't paying attention. It was strong enough to further aggravate the most recent of his wounds, but it wasn't enough to actually wrench from his palm. When her sword had penetrated his flesh, the muscles in his palm and fingers flexed involuntarily, contracting tightly on the weapon, which was why it was still in his hand rather than on the floor. Instead of relieving the pressure when the sword had been removed, the crushgaunt had translated the contractions in his palm as squeezing and the servos within the gauntlet engaged, locking his grasp in place.

Meanwhile, the countdown in his helmet's display continued.

He lifted his left arm to the Zeltron in retaliation, a build up of the Force was likely felt by her in those movements.

"Ride's here."

And above them, little more than twenty-five metres in the air above them was the Daisya Infiltrator revealing itself. A'sharad only needed two rapid bounds as the Force reinvigorated him one final time for the great leap that sent him through the air like a black missile into the cargo bay of the ship.

"Go."

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Allies: [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]​

Enemies: [member="Tempest"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"] | [member="Elliot Locke"]​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M30Zt1FepW8​

Turning from the droid, the young reporter flicked the magazine out of her slugthrower, jammed her hand into the pouch that [member="Rolf Amsel"] had provided her for another clip. She fumbled around with the slugthrower magazine as she high-tailed it after the Major into the culvert. She stumbled over the entrance and tumbled forward, giving a yelp of pain as she landed hard on her side. She whimpered and crawled forward, pulling herself over a dead stormtrooper and then another before her hand pulled the munitions belt off the third soldier she came across. The woman thumped his chest a few times, murmured a question after his health, and then helped herself, draping his belt around her waist and cinching it as tight as she could stand -- the benefit of which being that it covered the crimson stain that had begun to spread through her olive jacket.

A moment later, her envirosuit HUD began chiming at her, displaying an angry red warning about elevated radiation levels.

"Blast," she whispered, glancing down at her side. She had almost forgotten about the radiation on this godforsaken planet. She tucked the slugthrower into her belt and picked up an F-11D that she found on the trooper and hurried along the culvert, emerging into the light which gave her a chance to examine her borrowed munitions. Some sort of grenade. Some other sort of grenade. Spare magazines. Kolto shot. She frowned and looked up as [member="Rolf Amsel"] and [member="Elliot Locke"] grappled. She aimed her blaster and fired a few shots, but the proximity of the fighting men were too close; she couldn't risk hitting Amsel. So, she did the next best thing and launched herself on Locke's back as he attempted to headbutt Rolf. She dropped her blaster, but picked up the slugthrower from her belt and began to swing it wildly at Locke's head.

Unfortunately, in so doing, the woman had dislodged one of the grenades, which was now beeping insistently, as if to indicate discharge. "Stang," she said, dropping to the ground behind Locke and reaching for the grenade. Wait, what the hell am I doing? "Major," she cried, turning to dive away from what she thought was a grenade, "Get down!" But it was too late; the timer went off and there was a phunnnnfff! sound as the glop grenade exploded, showering the area in thick, sticky adhesive. Lydia went down hard, her hair and back covered in the stuff.

 

[Mao]

I am keeping this tag-centric for only those who this directly affects, so the tag pollution doesn't go crazy.l

ENGAGING IN THE AIR: [member="Torian Pierce"] 'S NPCS
Fighting on the ground: [member="Rexus Wenck"]


And lo, the second wave of First Order Air support came in.( [member="Torian Pierce"] ) This is what the Omega Pyre fighters had been expecting despite the losses they'd already suffered. Within seconds, the First Order ships would come head to head with the Omega Pyre air support that had been gaining ground with the disengaging Mandalorian troops from earlier.

Omega Pyre Eharl-class Assault Starfighters and OS-G2 Knight-class Fighters soared and would start taking pot shots at the incoming First Order craft. While the Eharl-Class Assault starfighter had a larger frame, it could pack a wallop when it came to payload delivery. They aimed in on the bigger starfighters. The squadron of Eharls coordinated to target the troopships, their large frames moving in to deliver volley after volley of ion canons bolts and concussion missiles to each of those ships.

They were not alone. The Knight class starfighters went in to strike, doing their best to lock on and blast at the First Order starfighters and ships with ion canons. An even bigger surprise would be the lingering Omega Pyre scout class interceptor. It spread out across the field, protocols moving to jam enemy starfighters. The sensor jammer is an updated model, allowing for better jamming of enemy fighters and bombers at longer dogfighting distances.

Down below, there wasn't anything else that the First Order Stormtroopers could get from Hardock. While he could take a beating, he wasn't going to be feeling much as he was already unconscious. Woe to him when he would find himself conscious again with a massive headache to boot.

As for Mao, well Rexus would get his pound of flesh. Even if that pound of flesh was in the form of squirting, soft tissue. An oceanic blue orb turned into a sea of red. The guttural scream that followed was visceral enough to warrant the sort of cringing that could send a savage chill down the spine.

Pain was real. Pain was life. Pain, well, meant that you were still living.

Mao had long since figured she'd die in the trenches. She made piece with that. The woman never expected to last so long. White picket fences and the like were never for her. Never would be. She ran from a life in a gilded cage to and ended up here.

Ended up facing Sith, Imperials, and the scum of the galaxy.

Omega. Salam Norongachi. Sal

Sal.

The flop of the Stormtrooper to the side barely registered as much as his words. By then Mao didn't give a flying fuck.

Sometimes, one just wants to see the 'verse burn.

A pull of a silver ring, the release of a pin.

Three.

That thermal in her hand and a reach around for Wenck's own. Perhaps, a pound a flesh.

Two.

Nothing blue blood, mud, and tears and the shit fest of the 'verse.

One.

"FUCK OFF!"

BOOOM!

---

---

In the Air

• 7 OS-G1 Guardian
• 6 OS-G2 Knight
• 6 Eharl-class Assault Starfighter Primary

• 8 OS-I1 Ranger
• 8 OS-B2 Crusader
• 1 OS-I2 Scout
• 17 OS-G3 Paladin
• 29 Wasp-class Starfighter D Configuration

Spoiler: gear

• Asheran Armorweave Armor
• Mk I Omega Boltgun APE Boltgun Ammunition
• Tir Stunner Thigh holster
• Cylix Bolt Pistol - concealed
• Czerka Fighting Knife Boot clipped
• Wrist dart bolter with 5x BA-K177 Browncoat Kamino Darts on right wrist
• AI-Wrist Blaster Left wrist
• Lightshield bracer
• 6 Anti-Force User Grenades
• 2 Thermal Grenades
• 2 Electro-magnetic mines
• One standard phrik vibrosword

 

[Ria Misrani]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiuHu-KqhH4[/media]​

The sounds of rescue cutters could be heard overhead, the FIV Guardian, FIV Balance and a third rescue ship, the FIV Mercy’s Flight now sat parked over the eastern portion of the trenches working to evacuate those that they could. Major Leona Eldrel and Rescue Crew 49 were working in the dirt, in the radiated, poodoo filled-blood soaked trenches getting wounded to stretchers and those that could waited for the rescue basket. Looking around, the Major shook her head still in a state of disbelief at what had transpired here.

Radiated rains began to form above them, or perhaps they were just the result of the force blizzard being swept toward the citadel, melting into rain before hitting the ground. Who knew at this point, “he’s good to go.” Leona said to the rescuer as they secured another stretcher, “looks like the Blackwell’s moving in.”

“Yeah the other ones are heading to Val’Hala sector now,” the rescuer remarked, “we’ve got another medical transport in bound.”

“Good, good.” Leona acknowledged, “and a post up South yes?”

“Yes, we’ve got a camp and a base there now, we’re going to transporting the less critically wounded there until we get a real triage center up and running.”

She was glad to hear it, glad to hear that the First Order was going to dig their heels in. The Galactic Alliance may have won the battle, but they had yet to win the war. Kneeling down she checked the pulse of a stormtrooper, “nothing, take him into the pile there.” The blonde gestures toward the growing pile of corpses. Kaeshana, Kaeshana where so much hope had been stored where so much good have been done was blown up for all intents and purposes. They were greeted by the alliance’s rounds of artillery shelling scientists and medics alike.

Perhaps civilians as well, one cannot claim to know the will of a species nor the remnant thereof. She knew the Eldorai did not care for them, did not like them - and wanted them gone but they too had needs, needs that the First Order could provide for. Leona’s thoughts were muddled as she took a shovel and began to dig, dig for the whites of plastoid armor. The trench had given away pummeling into the poor sod, “he’s breathing, barely - help me.”

The rescue workers knelt down and began to dig, others held up the dirt that at this rate was turning into mud. “Hang on soldier, just hang on, we’ve got you,” Leona told him as she took out a scanner. “His pulse his dropping, we’ve got to hurry.”

Carefully the lot of them worked to get him out, “easy, easy.”

Over her shoulder she heard the sounds of battle, fighting what was left of Rexus’s platoon, the Gundark Gunners. “Sergeants!” She shouted again, it was hard to get her voice over the sound of grenades and blaster fire. It looked as if the sod was caught in the middle of something, looking down she grabbed the F-11D from the trooper who was now being set onto a stretcher. “Get him to the Guardian, you and you with me.” Major Eldrel ducked at the sound of blaster fire and waited a moment or two before looking over the trench and firing off a few rounds toward the Galactic Alliance lines. Dirt and mud kicked up, burning into embers from the blasters, she looked over toward Rexus and then forward and then looked down the F-11D’s sights. Squeezing the trigger she got off a few solid rounds but the Alliance soldiers were still up.

Getting back down, she and the other medics low crawled their way toward the fight. Leona caught the edges of what was going on, with a Galactic Alliance commander and Rexus himself caught up in a fisticuffs match up. Rexus had the upper hand it seemed like getting a riot baton straight into the woman’s face. Looking over she noticed the other troops and took advantage of her prone position to shoot down boots.

Trenches were like a maze, “go down and around, stay close together, signal for Mercy’s Flight to follow.” Leona ordered sending her rescue medics down another trench line as she continued, and just as she did she heard the sounds of grenades going off. Praying to the Balance that her medics would be safe her focus now was squarely on getting Rexus out of combat, another pair of medics low crawling with F-11D’s rolled up beside her. “Get down and around.”

She then saw the tatters of medic uniforms from the First Order, pierce black with a strip of red down their shoulders trying to get around the Galactic Alliance to aid the wounded 7th Platoon of the White Wolves. “Rexus!” Leona shouted, “REXUS!”

Getting to one knee she tried to get some manner of aim on the commander but there was too much in the way of scuffling and then she saw the grenade in the commander’s hand, “bloody coward.” Leona remarked, “GRENADE!” She manages to shout but in less than three seconds the grenade goes off, and it isn’t the only one to go off. Grenades. Grenades were the weapons of cowards in the midst of a fisticuffs that they were losing and so rather than take the honorable way out, you decide to blow everyone around you. Easily within a fifteen foot radius, the blast was strong and debris was set flying in every direction.

Including into the fray of fighting, Leona caught debris into her side and part of her torso. Armor only soaked up so much damage. Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurred, hands in the dirt as she looked down. Squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again, getting to a knee was - challenging and took at least two tries before she could get to it. Standing was another matter altogether as she reached out for some manner of support only to find it in the form of a body that had been knocked back by the blast. “Anyone ‘bout?” She manages on comms.

“-Aw-th-ole-ing-”

“Trashed...” Leona curses as she takes a hand to tug at the radio, “this is Eldrel, come in.”

“Eldrel it’s Mercy’s Flight, we saw the whole thing, we’re calling in for more medics, hang tight Major.”
She shook her head, hang tight- Leona gets to her feet finally and looks down over toward the blast site. “You still kicking?” She asks more toward Rexus than the Alliance Commander. “Rexus?” The F-11D was gone that was a given, so as she fished about for some form of arms she only felt the debris that stuck out from her armor, “that’s bloody wonderful.”

“Gunnars!” Leona shouts, struggling to walk toward the site itself.

Nearby: [member="Mao"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"]​

 

[Ria Misrani]

Major Lavali Sanjeet had arrived with the rest of Lion's Maw only to see the Galactic Alliance rip through the First Order. Rather, what was left of them and in all her days, in all her years the Major could not tell you what she felt in the bottom of her stomach on that day. A sickening feeling, it churned in the pit her belly while she watched the events unfold watching as the Galactic Alliance ripped a grenade through medics, and so she turned to Symara. "I see why you're not in the Citadel."

"Not yet," Symara remarks as she looks down at her bolt gun, "not yet."

Her hands shook the gun in her hand as she tried to control her rage, "do you know what I felt on the day that Corellia broke?"

"Helplessness?" Lavali tried to grasp at it, she knew of loss - but perhaps not on the same scale as Symara.

The lieutenant nodded in acknowledgement and added, "rage - guilt." She looked over at what she was watching, "all of it, and I wondered what I was - who I was." She looked over to her right and her left, Major Lavali on her right, Sgt. Kala Matthieu's on her left and next to Kala was Sgt. Halifax and the four of them together wondered what would become of their company now. "I wondered who I would become, and," she looked at the patch on her arm, "this, this is not it."

"What do we do?" Kala asked, quietly as they watched the carnage with their own tanks and infantry behind them.

Major Lavali Sanjeet grabbed at her patch and tore it off as well. "We're not going to be as effective against the lot of them as we would hope to be."

"No, not yet," Symara adds as she puts the bolt gun into its holster and withdraws her sniper rifle, "not yet." With a nod of her head, the Lieutenant wanted a word with the Major alone. Quietly they walked away from Halifax and Matthieus, the members of Firemane's paramilitary needed to figure out how to approach the situation. "These guys could use some help, you head over there - I'll help these guys, get the heavy equipment away from here. I think I saw something headed south."

"Sounds good to me, and Lieutenant."

"Yeah?"

"See you on the other side."

Symara nodded and smiled, "Major."

TIE Interceptors ripped through the skies above, an entire squadron heading in one direction before six of them peel away heading for the scene that was in essence; a brutal massacre. She held out a hand, "it's been a pleasure."And with that the two of them split, Major Lavali Sanjeet issued orders to the heavy vehicles and units to head south while she lead the infantry platoons into the trenches to try and provide some manner of cover fire for those who needed it most.

In the trenches, at the Citadel.
Allies: -----
Enemies: ------

 

[Micah Talith]

[member="Irajah Ven"] [member="Vexen"]

[ Humanitarian? ] if the Talith held any form of disbelief, his voice didn't express it. The Alliance had come to fight the warlords and the pirates. At least, what his sister had said. It seemed they found a little more than just that.

[ I'm sure she will. ] Micah answered Vex, giving a slight frown as he turned away from the view. It was all above his proverbial paygrade anyways. He was neither part of the New Jedi Order or the Alliance. He only traveled this section of the galaxy to see his sister and his friends; and yes, at times that meant helping them out. He was, after all, much of his mother's son. In that came the constant tiny voice that said, Do good.

Lorrdian that he was, he caught the wince of pain that went drifting over her face. She was doing her best to stay awake.

[ Seems the sort to boss people around, don't she?] he joked, doing his best to try and keep her awake as well by talking.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Whatever Fiolette's plans were for the Tygaran Admiral, were stomped out.

"Admiral," Galeway remarked, "message for you - high priority."

Fiolette's head was on a swivel at that point as she brought the message to her personal screen, with a defeating sigh she put her hands to her temples and rubbed. "Galeway orders to the Task Force," she was going to need a cuppa after this, "redirect the task force to Kaeshana, we're reinforcing the blockade." Looking down at her hand she watched as her wrinkles appeared again, steeling herself against the rail of her forward bay as she grabbed the staff. Her walking staff that still bore the burnt in letters of the FIV Sloane, in an instant her condition calmed down and she stood with her officers working the Warspite's systems. "Redirect all unity ships to engage any hostiles, clear them out, reroute the Bolts to intercept any rogues. We'll need to reinforce Piett's position."

Gripping the staff she took in a breath, "Walzer - reorganise our ships into a proper Imperial line, Galeway."

"Already on it, a line to Piett is open."

@Aran Piett, was about to be notified of an in-battle promotion, "Commander Piett, Admiral Yvarro here - you are now a Captain and will be receiving reinforcements shortly." Watching as her vessels reorganised themselves under Walzer's instructions she continued. "Until then, your actions are to be commended and your efficiency applauded." With that the line was cut and it was time to address other personnel as Galeway flipped to [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], "apologies Grand Admiral, it seems High Command has issued other orders. Reinforcing the blockade and providing Captain Piett with some much needed aid."

Fleet: Task Force 74

Spoiler

1x Warspite-class, Dreadnought
4x Fortan-class, Heavy Corvette
2x Inflictor-class, Heavy Cruiser
8x Dagger-class, Escort Frigate
4x Denial-class, Anti-Starfighter Frigate
2x Retribution-class, Star Destroyer
3x Unity-class, Carrier Cruiser
24x Bolt-class, Picket Corvette
Total: 14,430m

En Route: Task Force 71 & Task Force 72
ETA: 2 Posts

Spoiler

Task Force 71: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
Stormcloud-class, Assault Cruisers x2
Raptor-class, Assault Frigates x6
Retribution-class, Light Star Destroyer x1
Corsair-class, Gunship Corvettes x12
6,580m

Task Force 72: [member="Aran Piett"]
Vindicator-class, Light Carrier x2
Fortan-class, Heavy Corvette x6
Charger-class, Escort Corvette x4
Deliverance-class, Corvette x24
6,880m