Location: Castameer
Allies: Jedi, GA, GR, KO
Objective: Strip Mines
[member="Kith Verloren"]
It made total sense. Fight through the chaos above Castameer - orbit and atmosphere both - to get down to the surface of the planet. Once on the surface, fight through the defenders to reach an air base. Then use that air base to head
back up to orbit, to the Omega device, infiltrate and destroy it. It seemed much like someone had designed it to be a grinder, to chew them up before even getting to the main objective. Some of the top minds had put together this plan though, no doubt it would be for the best.
The Jedi Master rode in a Galactic Alliance drop ship. It wasn't his preferred method of getting to the surface, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if he took the
Hathol down, even with a veteran fighter pilot at the helm, that he wouldn't be seeing the ship again. Jedi though he may be, he'd gotten attached to the ship and didn't want to lose it. The beskar alloy armor would have been comforting to have right about now though. The transport jumped and shivered in response to the myriad elements being impressed upon it: the pilots' attempts to keep it on target, the vagaries of the atmosphere, the incoming fire impacting against the shields, and even the explosion of the ship directly starboard. The entire thing slid to port because of that one, almost impacting the next vessel over before course correcting. The pilots were good at their jobs; maybe not as good as a Rogue would be, but more stolid to be sure. They'd get the drop ship to the landing zone.
Or maybe not.
There were three concussions, multiple somethings impacting heavily against the shields from below. Then a fourth, much heavier than the others, and a fifth from above. Fighters making strafing runs, fantastic. That was why they were all strapped in. Finally the
coup de grâce, a final hit to the belly of the ship. That one tore through, more or less cutting the thing in two. All of the sudden there was open air in front of them, the cockpit falling forward with twin ejection trails originating from where the transparisteel had been as the pilots ejected. Something had shorted in the control lines maybe, because one of the engines was still roaring at full throttle while the other was dead silent...and the aft section entered a flat spin. In practiced, professional movements the elite soldiers provided by the Alliance unstrapped themselves, braced until they got to the opening, then let inertia and friction pull them out. Each had grabbed the emergency repulsor stored in their seat. Which would have been great for Audren, had he not taken the spare fold-out that didn't have one of those. In fact, he was lucky he hadn't gotten roasted by whatever had separated the ship.
The Sephi was outfitted for war. He had
armor of course, minorly lightsaber-resistant but very light. His lightsaber, standard issue for any Jedi. But he also carried other weapons holstered, sheathed, or strapped to his being. Jedi though he may be, he was fully aware that blasters and knives could come in useful. His blond hair was tied back to enough of a degree to keep it from his face, yet loose. The wind brought it to life as he unstrapped himself - rather less calmly than he'd have preferred - and released himself into the air. Once he had oriented himself, falling face-down towards the ground, the hair simply streamed out behind him. There would be knots galore when he was done, not that the thought crossed his mind. Most would panic on falling from this height without a repulsorpack, but he had the Force. And maybe a bit of panic.
Piercing blue eyes examined the situation as best they could through the wind. For better or worse, he was free-falling towards what had been an empty field of snow, the pristine expanse now marred by debris and fire and bodies. Optimally, he'd want to land on something soft and absorbent. Well, in truth, he'd optimally not want to be falling like this in the first place, but circumstances dictated. There were no such soft and absorbent things handy though, and the Force could not conjure one for him. His next option would be a long a shallow ramp, allow him to bleed vertical speed into horizontal and have less of an abrupt stop. But his power was not enough for that. The last option was a pillar of power. Weaker towards the top, getting thicker as he got closer to the ground. Yet it had to push on something to provide resistance...that would have to be the ground, there was nothing else.
His hands and arms were busy stabilizing his fall, but a tower of cables of pure Force power began building itself below him. He didn't try to make the top softer than the bottom, as he got closer to the ground the proximity would do that for him. Slowly, maddeningly slowly, his speed decreased. The rate of decrease increased the closer to the ground he got, but the effort was tremendous. Both mentally, and on the surface below him. Equal and opposite after all. The snow compressed under the weight, revealing a boulder hidden beneath the drift that would smash his body and break bones at least. At the last possible moment, the Jedi tipped himself to the side, essentially rolling over and missing the rock by less than a meter. He plopped into one of the few patches of fresh snow left, sinking in until he was completely encased but for the imprint he'd left. Fortunately, the snow was also relatively deep there, and he finally stopped his vertical motion centimeters from the hard ground. Miraculously alive and without a single broken bone.
It
hurt.
