Populate [GA] Picking Up the Pieces | GA Populate of Onderon

[Vera Noble]

​

Tag: Diogo Talon

​

Vera smirked at his response, tilting her head just slightly as she cast him a sideways glance. "Oh, very worried," she teased, her tone playful but her fiery gaze flickering with something more. "I mean, you stand out with all that green hair of yours. Might as well paint a target on your back." Her grin widened, just to match his smirk and poke back at the pipsqueak comment.

But even as she joked, the weight of the moment wasn't lost on her.

Her hands moved over the controls, guiding the shuttle through the graveyard with practiced ease. The closer they got, the more she could feel it — lives still clinging to the wreckage of war, desperate and flickering like dying embers. They were running out of time.

"There," she said adjusting their trajectory. The derelict cruiser loomed ahead, its hull scarred from battle, its lights long since extinguished. But within, she felt survivors.

The Force pulsed in confirmation.

Vera didn't hesitate. She maneuvered the shuttle into position, magnetic clamps engaging as they locked onto the wreck. A dull thunk echoed through the cabin as the docking tube extended, sealing their entry point. She inhaled sharply, letting the tension settle in her chest, before turning to Diogo with a grin.

"Hope you're actually ready," she said, reaching for her weapon and unbuckling from the pilot's seat. "Because I really don't feel like dragging your ass back if you get yourself in trouble."

Then, with a flick of her wrist, she hit the airlock release.

Time to move.

​

 

[Isoroku Spruance]

Tags: Gym Halpern and OPEN to anyone else.

The ANS Vanguard came screaming out of hyperspace a burning wreck. One of the Courageous-class's twin command towers was gone, nothing more than a blackened twisted hulk of metal. Half of its main Dual Heavy Turbolaser Batteries had been blasted clean off. Its engines were coughing and barely were holding up as it entered the system. Hundreds of rents in its hulls still trailed trace elements of burning plasma into the cold void.

The ships that followed weren't faring too well either. The two Blissex-Class Frigate's that were towing the Task Force's crippled flagship resembled more pockmarked moons than space-faring vessels. Only their infamous durability was allowing them to limp along. One Belarus-class medium Cruiser was just a hollowed-out hull with barely functional engines being escorted by its slightly less damaged brother. Meanwhile, only the twin Caamas Frigates escorting the carrier Promethean Doctrine seemed to be in any decent shape.

On Alliance naval craft, a communication hail came from the flagship. The holographic image of a man in a captain's uniform appeared, his right arm in a sling and a black bruise over his left eye. A gash on his cheek had been hastily stitched up.

"This is Fleet Captain Spruance of Task Force Spruance," he coughed, "Requesting all available aid. We were en route from Woostri for repair at the shipyards of Fondor, but our hyperdrives couldn't hold up. I need as many medical and rescue personnel as possible. I have thousands of wounded crew. Many hundreds trapped within wrecked sections of my ships. Possibly shuttles to transport the critical to better facilities. I still have plasma fires raging on multiple's deck on the Vanguard."

Spoiler: Fleet Condition

Task Force Spruance

• Taffy 1
  • ANS Vanguard (1.2 km) - Courageous-Class Star Destroyer
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Radiance of Meridian (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Admonisher of the Void (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
• Taffy 2.1
  • ANS Mantua's Law (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Crippled!
• Taffy 2.2
  • ANS The Weeping Somnambulist (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Medium Damage
• Taffy 3
  • ANS Promethean Doctrine (1 km) - Tython-class Fleet Carrier
    • Status: Medium Damage. One hangar down.
  • ANS Righteous Indignation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
  • ANS Truth and Reconciliation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium Damage. All engines gone.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

"That's better," he said as Ventra demonstrated the altered speech pattern. "And that's fine... I think? Just don't make a big mess."

He really didn't know what to make of her. Cyborg Echani that seemed very mission oriented. Not a bad thing to be focused on the task at hand, but it did seem she was a bit, well, cold. In situations like these it was best to be able to build a sense of comraderie and understanding with the people who had just lost their home. Especially since the Alliance was losing ground to the Sith on this front. It wasn't going well and it was likely people were going to start forming some negative opinions. That's what really worried him. What if people in the crowd got angry at them?

As she went off to do her thing, he glanced down at Fate. The little droid was bouncing back and forth from foot to foot at such a rapid rate that Caelan was afraid he was going to snap one of his feet right off. Shaking his head, he huddled with a few of the other Alliance personnel for a moment to share words and then headed out into the crowded refugee encampment much the same as the cyborg had. The difference was that he was dressed as a Jedi, not as a member of the refugee populace.

People swarmed him almost immediately.

Most were asking for food. Some wanted medical aid, and most of those were outright asking for him to heal them. While he could heal some wounds, he wasn't a healer. That was a skill he hadn't actually learned. Might be something to work on soon.

"Calm down, everyone," he said as people mobbed him. "I know you have needs. The Alliance and the Jedi are here to help, as are the people of Lazerian IV. Please return to your domiciles and Alliance personnel will be with you to determine your needs."

Of course that didn't really help and he sighed. At least he was keeping people's attention. Might make it easier for Ventra to do what she needed to do?

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Ventra Flavius ​

 

[Kaelos Vryn]

Location: Field Hospital
Tags: Valery Noble
Equipment: Lightsaber | Jedi Jumpsuit | Utility Belt
​

​

Woostri.

Kaelos hadn't been on the water world during the fighting, but he had heard the stories. The Sith had come, and the Sith had destroyed. They'd been hellbent on conquering and nothing the Jedi did could hold them back. The death toll was higher than anything the young Jedi had seen.

Whilst still not 100% after his adventure on the planet of Hapes, he couldn't just sit around and do nothing. There were so many people displaced, lost and hurt. His abilities in Psychometry would come in useful and he intended to use them to help.

The young Jedi flexed his shoulder and pain shot down his arm. He'd caught a rogue blaster shot to the arm whilst extracting a young Hapen girl. Bacta and the powers of the Force had assisted his healing somewhat but he still wasn't perfect.

Not that it mattered to Kaelos, of course.

He wondered momentarily how Vera Noble would react to the fact he was putting off his own recovery to help others. She'd been worried enough when he'd been shot. Now she'd probably say he was being unnecessarily noble and should focus on himself.

There were people that needed helping. He pushed off his own issues and focused his mind. He'd attended an emergency field hospital, one that was treating those most hurt from the battle. He was almost certain he'd seen Drystan Creed charging through the halls.

He cast his eyes towards one of the Jedi Masters in charge. "Where'd you need me?" he asked quietly, desperate to help where he could. He wasn't a healer by any stretch, but he could carry a bedpan or offer a bed wash. He just wanted to help.

 

[Ventra Flavius]

Location: Vondarc
Objective: 2
Tag: Caelan Valoren
Disguise​

Neela kept her eye on the crowd as they started to form around Caelan and the other Alliance members. On the outside, she had the same look of fear and terror as the refugees around, but inside she was analysing them all. On the outside, she was Neela. The emotional refugee trying to find some kind of shelter and assistance. On the inside, she was Ventra. The agent who believed that emotions were pointless. They held you back from your mission. It made it harder to keep peace. If all of these refugees were able to cut themselves off from their fear, panic and anger, everything would be able to go a lot more smoothly. Of course, she wasn't ignorant to their plights. It was the way they were raised that was the problem. She had been raised to put the Alliance over herself. Most of these refugees probably put themselves over others.

"Can...Can someone help me? I need new bandages for...my eye..."
She did her best to sound out of breath and exhausted, whilst keeping an eye on the crowd. It might have looked like she was trying to find a friendly face but in reality, she was taking in the sight of how many people were focused on Caelan and how many weren't. It made sense that most of them would be looking towards him. He was a Jedi. They saw them as guardians of the peace. It wasn't exactly a sentiment she agreed with. The Jedi had their own authority outside of the Alliance. But they were allies for now, so she had no reason to look a gift Tauntaun in the mouth.

It also made sense that she'd see some refugees with anger on their faces. Disgust. They believed the Alliance had failed them. And perhaps they had. She most certainly hadn't helped during the invasion. But even with that thought, knowing that some innocents might have been saved if she was in the field...The woman did not care. People died. Planets died. But nations, alliances and republics were remembered. If they might die, people would remember them. No-one would remember her if she died. That was a fact that she had accepted.

What she hadn't been expecting to see was smirking faces in the crowd. Smugness. Suddenly Neela would clutch her hand to head, acting as if she was having some kind of intense migraine, when in reality it was her way of communicating to Caelan and the other Alliance members over the communicator. From what she knew, it was somewhat similar to how Jedi communicated telepathically, but whereas they used the Force, Ventra was using her cybernetics to connect to their communicators.

Chiss. Stood near the eastern wall. Smirking to himself. Doesn't seem like a threat Ventra needs to take down. Going back on the move.

With that, she turned her attention back towards the rest of the crowd, wincing every so often when she was bumped into. It didn't hurt her, not really but she had to put on the act. Clutching her shoulder as she moved along. This wasn't fancy work, but it was important. Somewhat.

 

[Diogo Talon]

Vera Noble​

Dio grinned. Wasn't the first time she made a playful jab at his beautiful, bountiful, colorful mane. She obviously recognized it was a total vibe. "You love talkin' about my hair. Jealous, maybe?"

The shuttle shook as the magnetic clamps activated, and the vibration rattled his bones. He unclipped from the co-pilot seat, following Vera out of the cockpit. Dio playfully rolled his eyes. "Just don't drag me by my hair," he murmured.

The airlock began cycling, adjusting air pressure and temperature with mechanical whirs and hissing gas. "We should use rebreathers. Their life support systems are probably shot." Dio pulled his rebreather off his belt and fixed it to his face. When the airlock sequence was complete, he stepped into the tunnel.

 

[Gym Halpern]

LOCATION: Vondarc
TAG: Isoroku Spruance , WIDE Open

Objective II — Displaced & Desperate​

.


Five minutes.

They had not been on the ground for five minutes.

Watching the message, he had a duty to respond, but he could not help but wonder where this Captain trained? If the ship was so badly damaged, they could have, and should have made repairs to the best of their ability. Of course it may not have been possible where they were but still. Either way, Halpern got on comms.

[Lieutenant Commander Toraq, reroute fighters and escort the ANS Vanguard to a safe position.]

[“Aye, Sir.”]

Commander Billit. Send any engineers and medics we can openly spare up in transports to assist the Vanguard along with medical supplies

“Aye sir.” She was ten feet away, so no need for comms with her. Quickly the young XO went to work.

 

[Aris Noble]

Obj. 1​

Blood was harder to clean than ash, it turned out.

Aris stared blankly at the water washing over his face. The ash that had clung to his skin was washed away with so much ease. Just as easily as he'd been covered by it. The flashes were there, replaying in his mind. The sudden rush of heat through the hallway as he fought with the Alliance soldiers against the Sith. A flash of fire, then, just ash.

All around, only ash. And him, alive. He couldn't even stop Darth Malum of House Marr after. He didn't even slow the man. The Sith just teleported away to continue, and Aris couldn't even get past that woman there with him. All he did was essentially flail against unyielding odds. He took a breath as he closed his eyes to let the water wash off the rest of the ash.

The answer was simple. Aris needed to be stronger. He left the shower, dried off, got dressed. It was simpler clothing, given how singed his robes had ended up. He paused briefly before he opened the door. The triplets were there. He smiled softly, looking between the three. Fear and relief were in their eyes, that he wasn't harmed.

He had been, but as ever he healed too fast for it to be noticed.

"I'm alright." He patted the top of Aeryn and Adam's heads, smiling softer. It was like before, in their home when the people tried to break in. Aurra, too. "Let's find the others."

It wasn't a long walk till he found at least one of the Nobles. One of the pyres, with a hover chair beside it. Colette. He stepped over, holding Aurra and Aeryn's hands as the Triplets followed to see their sister.

"You're up now, huh?"

Colette

 

[Katherine Holt]

Objective 1: Licking Wounds
Tags: Colette | Aris Noble​

Katherine let out a heavy sigh as she walked the length of where the memorial bonfires had been lit to honour those that had fallen on Woostri. It was not the first time she had seen such a sight, nor having been an active part of the battle that caused it.

But it never lessened the sinking feeling she felt in her heart.

One effigy burned on each bonfire, bearing unspoken names of the countless that had been killed in the conflict with the Sith. Far far too many were innocents caught in the middle of it all.

As the redhead walked, she caught sight of a familiar bob of hair, sitting within a hover chair. It was impossible for Katherine to miss the feeling of deja vu, as though she was looking at a mirror.

She had heard some of what Colette had gone through, the mental torment her Sith opponent had inflicted upon her. In comparison, Katherine mostly had physical injuries to deal with, her shoulder in particular. The verpine round had not just destroyed her shoulder armour, but dislocated it too. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, as Katherine hadn’t even realized it until a medic had looked at it.

For now, her shoulder was a sling simply to keep it in place, and to stop the redhead from instinctively moving it until it healed properly.

As Katherine walked over to approach Colette, she realized Aris was also present; with what appeared to be the Noble triplets in tow too. The sight of them brought a small smile to the Jedi’s face, and hoped that they would help Colette a little too.

Katherine announced her presence with a single word, as she stopped beside assembled Nobles.

“Hey.”

 

[Max Akratonos]

It was late, ships time. Much of the crew would be asleep, and a skeleton crew would be manning the stations. But outstanding paper work and and report writing had Fleet Captain Akratonos still awake. Staring blankly at his holoprojector, a message came through, Marked urgent.

Great, more paper work.

His tired eyes scanned the message.

'In light of recent events...... exemplary performance..... You and your battlegroup are being reassigned from patrol to front line duty commencing.....'

Everything else seemed unimportant after that, The fleet was being rolled into front line service.

Finally, years of mind numbing patrols and swatting the endless hordes of outer rim pirates had culminated in this. A chance at proving himself for real.

Yet two things plagued his thoughts, the first being how bad must everything be going for him, the least politically popular commander in the entire fleet to be place in front line duty?

The second, quieter voice recalled the words of a Jedi padawan. Was he ready for this?

 

[Max Akratonos]

Tags: Gym Halpern and OPEN to anyone else.

The ANS Vanguard came screaming out of hyperspace a burning wreck. One of the Courageous-class's twin command towers was gone, nothing more than a blackened twisted hulk of metal. Half of its main Dual Heavy Turbolaser Batteries had been blasted clean off. Its engines were coughing and barely were holding up as it entered the system. Hundreds of rents in its hulls still trailed trace elements of burning plasma into the cold void.

The ships that followed weren't faring too well either. The two Blissex-Class Frigate's that were towing the Task Force's crippled flagship resembled more pockmarked moons than space-faring vessels. Only their infamous durability was allowing them to limp along. One Belarus-class medium Cruiser was just a hollowed-out hull with barely functional engines being escorted by its slightly less damaged brother. Meanwhile, only the twin Caamas Frigates escorting the carrier Promethean Doctrine seemed to be in any decent shape.

On Alliance naval craft, a communication hail came from the flagship. The holographic image of a man in a captain's uniform appeared, his right arm in a sling and a black bruise over his left eye. A gash on his cheek had been hastily stitched up.

"This is Fleet Captain Spruance of Task Force Spruance," he coughed, "Requesting all available aid. We were en route from Woostri for repair at the shipyards of Fondor, but our hyperdrives couldn't hold up. I need as many medical and rescue personnel as possible. I have thousands of wounded crew. Many hundreds trapped within wrecked sections of my ships. Possibly shuttles to transport the critical to better facilities. I still have plasma fires raging on multiple's deck on the Vanguard."

Spoiler: Fleet Condition

Task Force Spruance

• Taffy 1
  • ANS Vanguard (1.2 km) - Courageous-Class Star Destroyer
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Radiance of Meridian (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Admonisher of the Void (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
• Taffy 2.1
  • ANS Mantua's Law (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Crippled!
• Taffy 2.2
  • ANS The Weeping Somnambulist (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Medium Damage
• Taffy 3
  • ANS Promethean Doctrine (1 km) - Tython-class Fleet Carrier
    • Status: Medium Damage. One hangar down.
  • ANS Righteous Indignation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
  • ANS Truth and Reconciliation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium Damage. All engines gone.

Hurling itself through hyperspace, the nearly pristine hull of the StarHawk Inadmissible cuts through the blue and white tunnel with confident ease. Amongst the quiet activity of the bridge, Akratonos stands, watching the message relayed by Spruance.

Signalling to open a comm line to the stricken Captain. Turning towards the main holoprojector, Akratonos speaks.

'This is Fleet Captain Max Akratonos of the 17th Patrol battlegroup, I am enroute to your position to provide aid and assistance at your location, please provide estamates of wounded and damage.'

Shutting off the comm line, Max mentally braces himself for the damage he is about to lay eyes on.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Shan

All and all, Jonyna looked relatively unharmed. Just...sore. Sore and worn out. Like she had run a marathon, not just in body, but in spirit. It maybe didn't help that the more Shan looked, the more he realized how overly stressed she was.

"Yeah, I think I'm better on the battlefield anyways. Next time, I think I'll just try and pull that ship out of the sky." She chuckled, even if it caused her to let out a ragged cough.

She was catching a cold too. Her normal immune system was pushed to it's limit.

"You think we can get me back to a hundred percent with a couple good meals and a nap? I've never been to a real doctor before, so, I'm kinda in the dark on who this works."

 

[Ares Dargir]

Objective: Obj. 4
Equipment: Curved-Hilt Lightsaber, Jedi Clothes, Comlink, Utility Toolbelt
Tag: Jack Wright | OPEN

Nothing about their current situation was easy to handle. Not for the emotional toll it can take upon one's mind. Whether it was done by the lack of their hand, or their efforts had proven to be insufficient. Either one had left a bitter taste in their mouths. Or maybe it was just Ares as he kept an eye on the sensors for anything out of the ordinary. There had been refugees who managed to escape the carnage, but the chance that they might be close to the sector was too high to ignore.

In the background, Ares could hear Master Jack tapping on the datapad as the man scrolled through the extensive reports of what had transpired. It truly was nothing short of a tragedy.

’War… it never changes.’ Ares mulled as his green eyes began to glaze over. His mind played back a vision he had of late, but it was extremely difficult to make out what it was. All he could gather was that the Force was trying to tell him something, but Ares knew better than to dwell on it for too long. Those thoughts were dashed when something beeped, and Master Jack was quick to answer the call as he peered over at the sensors. Ares blinked as he looked over at the man who silently started to put in the coordinates.

”Shouldn't we inform the-” Ares was cut off as the ship felt like it had lunged forward when it made the jump into hyperspace. Even the Padawan was sitting down, he had put out a hand to catch himself from getting a face full of computers and whatnot.

”Pardon my question, but what if this is simply a trap to lure us away from the fleet?” Ares knew that some Masters didn't like to be questioned, but this was a survival question. Certainly he would fight tooth and nail to save a person that he never knew before without a second thought. However there was still that bit of caution, that small voice in the back of Ares's mind that had saved him more than once from a precarious situation.

”I have a bad feeling about this…” And the worst part was the feeling that Ares muttered was rarely, if ever , wrong.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Objective II: Displaced and Desperate
- Open -
​

Alicio probably shouldn't have come. But old habits were hard to kick.

He'd slipped in with SELCORE's relief response, using the chaos of the moment to join the caravan of supplies headed to the front lines from Fondor. He kept a low profile, with only him and a few disguised honor guards to watch his back. Only a select few trusted faces knew he was away from the capital at all. Better for the galaxy to believe he was sitting at his cozy, safe desk, rather than with his feet in the mud.

Honestly? There was no place he would rather be. Helping refugees, seeing for himself what they needed, offering true hope... as opposed to having every twitch of a finger analyzed and dissected for weakness. As he was sure would happen, when he officially released his statement on Woostri later that day.

The dark-cloaked figure of Alicio passed through the hastily-erected refugee camp, making not a stir as he passed. Maybe if someone cared to really look past the shadowed hood at the figure beneath, they would notice the Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance... but no one did. They had their own problems, their own goals, and nobody expected him to be there. He was practically invisible as he slipped into one of the urgent care tents.

Alicio passed by a trio of medics, flashing clearance before making his way to the worst-wounded. A man lay stiff in the corner, covered in masses of white gauze and bacta. Fire had scorched away flesh and hair, leaving a sight... Alicio was glad was covered by bandages.

"Can you hear me?," his voice said, soft and sure. The man couldn't turn his head, but mumbled out a scratchy response. "I'm going to help you. This may cause some... discomfort. Try to relax."

Alicio closed his eyes, and extended a thin hand through his cloak, letting his fingers rest upon a section of uncovered scabbing. The Force began to flow from him, as he shared his life with the refugee, baptizing him with warm, healing energy.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

AADIHR NEVER RETURNED

The last communication from Knight Lidos was sent from within the Woostri Primary Control Center minutes before collapse.

Attempts to communicate have been met with no response.

Azurine Varek | CLOSED​

 

[Aymeric Prendergast]

|| FROM THE SHADOWS ||

Phantom of the Order - Chapter 1

TAG: Dean Walker | Katarine Ryiah | Lily Decoria | All in obj 3

Spoiler: THEME

​

WOOSTRI
The acidic smell of rain pouring down the lower levels of Woostri reminds Aymeric of a scene all-too familiar. The way the water splashes on the canopy, how the neon lights reflect on the puddles, the ashy stench from the cheap noodle bars, the deadbeat drunks grazing the dirty alleyways, spending the rest of their credits on temporary release and instant gratification, while their family is facing a slow death of hunger and sorrow, it all effortlessly takes him back to the days of old, the cold, harsh reality of life right in the former Capital of the great Galactic Alliance.

Except it is also burning here in Woostri. Back then, in Coruscant, as bad as life was, he knows for certain that he can still will his body to find another day worth of food for him and his mother. He knows that there’s always an opportunity, as low as the probability was. Not here.

He has been holed up in Woostri for months, providing counter-intel to the SIA, while making sure that it will not fall to the Sith Order. Still, all his efforts were for nothing; Woostri fell, and the Sith machinations continued to flourish, and he cannot do anything about it. He feels so helpless, listening to the Sith’s victory announcement from the radio down in the lower level of Woostri. He would punish himself for his failure if he could, but not in this condition. Broken bones on his lower abdomen preventing him from moving too much, limiting his access to food and water. He winced in pain throughout the announcement, lamenting in his failures, for the fact that he had let everyone down. He thought of how Valery Noble would think seeing him like this, a pathetic failure that has let her Order down.

He almost finally let go, of everything. Drifting in and out of consciousness. The Order would be better without him, he thought to himself. Yet in his lowest point, his subconscious mind took over. Aymeric reached for his communication device and sent an encrypted message to all SIA operators around the system.

<This is Jedi Shadow Aymeric, code number 778BA5… if there is an evacuation mission, I am holed up in this coordinate… if all is lost, please inform Grandmaster Valery Noble… I am sorry to let her and the Order down…>

Maybe he’ll survive. He always does. But death doesn’t sound so bad after everything he went through.

​

 

[Isoroku Spruance]

Tag: Gym Halpern Max Akratonos

The comms-link expanded to include the two captains.

"My thanks, Captain Akratonos. I tally five thousand dead. Double that number wounded. It would be easier to count who's not injured. That's just my crew." A pained look took over his face. "We picked up alliance stragglers from other crippled ships and lifeboats. Paid dearly for that, but we managed to save another thousand or so sailors from the void."

The ANS Vanguard began to pull alongside Akratonos's ship. Up close, it became a wonder how the Courageous-Class Star Destroyer was still afloat. It lurched, buckled, and groaned with every single movement. There was barely a single part of its hull that hadn't been scorched by turbolaser fire. Several portions had been gutted, leaving gaping wounds that exposed a maze of twisted bulkheads, ruptured corridors, and flickering emergency lights. The main dorsal hangar doors were jammed half-open. Fires burned in the oxygen pockets trapped in the wreckage, venting toxic fumes into the void, supplemented by constant plasma leakage.

It had taken a monumental effort from its fanatical crew, desperate to not let their home die, to get it this far.

"That bastard super dreadnaught Mon Mors did a beating on us." Just saying that that dreaded Sith name hurt Spruance. "Combined with the turncoat Madelyn Lowe 's ships, we barely made it out. Four Kota-Class Corvettes gone. Three of them were annihilated so fast that not a single crew member escaped. The Rocinante deployed lifeboats. Sith Starfighters killed every single escape pod that made it out. Mantua's Law is basically just a hunk of molten slag with working engines. My Blissex Frigates couldn't hurt a fly. Virtually every gun was stripped off by enemy fire, and a good chunk of their gunners are dead. But they can still tow well enough. It's the same with my carrier force. Damaged but still mostly functional."

He paused and closed his right eye. The flesh around the blackened left eye was so swollen that he didn't need to try. Just listing out the dead and the damage that he... he was responsible for nearly made him want to break down and start sobbing. But he couldn't. Not now. Not in front of the men.

"It's a miracle any single one of us made it out. I would have made a straight jump for the repair docks at Camp Bastion, but our hyperdrives need a moment to rest. At least a day or so for my engineers - hopefully sooner with Captain Gym Halpern 's help - to jerry-rig some repairs."

The single working hangar door to the Vanguard's bridge opened. Billit's engineers would be greeted by the ship's engineering crew. At least those who survived. Not a single one wasn't wounded in some form. Several had massive burns barely hidden under bloody compression bandages, yet they were still standing. Around them, in the few open spaces in the main hangar, were hundreds of white sheets stacked neatly in rows.

Spoiler: Fleet Condition

Task Force Spruance

• Taffy 1
  • ANS Vanguard (1.2 km) - Courageous-Class Star Destroyer
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Radiance of Meridian (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Heavy Damage
  • ANS Admonisher of the Void (0.7 km) - Blissex-class Assault Frigate Mk III
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
• Taffy 2.1
  • ANS Mantua's Law (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Crippled!
• Taffy 2.2
  • ANS The Weeping Somnambulist (0.4 km) - Belarus-class Medium Cruiser
    • Status: Medium Damage
• Taffy 3
  • ANS Promethean Doctrine (1 km) - Tython-class Fleet Carrier
    • Status: Medium Damage. One hangar down.
  • ANS Righteous Indignation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium-Heavy Damage
  • ANS Truth and Reconciliation (0.5 km) - Caamas-class Escort Frigate
    • Status: Medium Damage. All engines gone.

[/div]

 

[Max Akratonos]

Tag : Isoroku Spruance

Seeing the Vanguard pull alongside the undamaged Inadmissible made Akratonos freeze up. He'd heard of the Vanguard before, heard it as being one of the most capable vessels in its weight class the alliance had. And here it was, nearly torn to shreds. And the crew, obliterated. He had heard rumours of alliance defeats, but this was something else entirely

Max is drawn from his momentary lapse by a small fire breaking out on the surface of the crippled vessel, before issuing orders to bring the Mi'Jeka class superfreighter Harmony along the other side of the Vanguard, before ensuring the smaller Hajen class and GR-95 support vessels aided in maintaining the rest of the fleet.

Max noticed some of the bridge crew fidgeting in their seats, others staring at the crippled destroyer next to them, before issuing one more order, this time over his own ships internal comms.

'If you are not vital to maintaining the ship at this current time, make yourself available to aid and assist any injured personnel that may come aboard from the Vanguard.' At this, even much of the bridge crew began filing towards the docking tubes.

Following the herds of engineers and medical officers now racing towards the Vanguard, Max cautiously stepped aboard the destroyer. Without even needing a diagnostic, he felt the ships pain, and the crews pain. This would take a long time to repair.

Making his way to the bridge, he sought out the fellow captain, reaching out his hand in greeting, with a pained, and slightly sheepish look on his face, as if he was embarrassed at his late arrival.

 

[Colette]

Aris Noble / Katherine Holt

"You're up now, huh?"

It was a more difficult question to answer than Colette would realize. Did it count as being up if you were tied to a chair because your legs were too shaky to keep you up for any considerable amount of time? Was she really up if she felt like a hollowed out husk of her former self, barely able to stay awake long enough to do anything important?

No, Colette was having a hard time believing that she was up, but she gave her brother a smile regardless and the triplets an even bigger one as they approached her so-called 'mobility aid.'

"Hey."

She knew that voice; it was Katherine's. Colette looked up at the towering angel and gave her a nod. In the end she never found out if it was Kat that had gotten her or Ko out or how exactly they'd gotten off that roof. Last Colette remembered she had heard the woman ask if anyone needed aid, and then it all kind of blurred together as Colette had collapsed to the floor.

"Hey." She said back but her voice lacked the strength it usually had.

"I can't stay in that bed. I hate sitting still."

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Ares Dargir , OPEN)

"Trap or not," Jack's voice came out amused as it did reassuring, smiling with mirth over to his Padawan companion, inputting the coordinates for the distress call's source. "It's a risk best taken, if there are people in need of rescue. If otherwise, we'll handle them."

When the streaks of hyperspace jumped before the cockpit's view, hazel eyes glimmered with light bemusement.

"Anything's better than sitting on our rear reading about tragedy..."

Truthfully, he almost hoped for a deception, if just to take his mind off the tragic tellings of Woostri's fall, and engage the men and women responsible. But that's also a bonus; maybe whatever ship they'll find has a Sith stowaway, if they're lucky.