The shuttle lurched and shook as it blazed lines through the celestial vacuum. Atretes' gaze, previously locked onto the world ahead, now surveyed the hole punched by the massive blast that sent electrical shock waves through the space ahead. It was a marvel to behold, and the wide-eyed pilot somehow fed off of the natural motivation that permeated the ship. It was nothing so concentrated as the arts of Battle Meditation that warred in the backdrop like a swarm of annoying bees waiting for their chance to sting, but it still held sway over those aboard this particular vessel. From the periphery of the ship's forward viewport, Atretes could see other shuttles trying to keep pace with the one he was aboard, but the feeling on them wasn't nearly as strong as aboard his. They dipped, swayed, tried to avoid the oncoming laser fire, while the current shuttle neglected such displays for jamming the engines as fast as they would go. They evaded, this pilot tried to make them harder to lock onto. Then there was... something amiss...
A flash from the left, the shuttle there struck by the bright green bolt of a turbolaser, and the Knight Commander had no time for codes and mechanisms. Gripping the door with his hand, his arm from his fingers to his elbow were encased in a sheen of energy that commanded gravity and such forces to work directly to his will. The door crushed and was tossed to the side, and with a split-second slither of power into his feet, the man lunged forward to take a grip of the controls. Those moments were a tense collection of fractions of seconds. Atretes flying through midair to reach past the pilot. The pilot, wide-eyed and staring at the crippled shuttle drifting toward them at breakneck speeds. The flaming shuttle, its own pilot dead and draped over the controls, its few surviving passengers fearing for the past seconds of their soon-to-be-extinguished existences. The world seemed to move in frame-by-frame motion, as Atretes saw he had no time to physically man the controls, and his gauntlet of willpower shot out to grip the controls and shove forward to pitch the shuttle downward. The vessel dipped, the other shuttle blazed overhead. It clipped a dorsal fin and shredded off the stabiliser, which sent the shuttle into a dangerous spin. The important part was they were alive, for now, while the second accompanying shuttle had worse luck as the two collided into a ball of inferno. Atretes gave the pilot a stern look, which conveyed he do his duty, and the pilot swallowed hard and nodded, steeling himself for the challenge of rectifying the spin before they hit atmosphere. Atretes had his own methods of aiding, but he couldn't do it in time alone.
"Who here specialises in Telekinetic ability!?" Rhoujen shouted out. A fair portion raised their hands. He nodded, and continued,
"I need you to use your knowledge and get the ship out of this spin. The pilot is doing what he can, but we might not be able to pull this off with just him, or just us." he looked to those who volunteered, and they all looked somewhat nervous. He couldn't blame them, but he needed them to act. What better way to inspire than lead by example?
Widening his stance to stabilise himself, Atretes first drew in a mass amount of energy to himself, feeling it flow and hum around him like a shimmering veil of power, then he dropped to a knee and planted his hand firmly into the floor of the ship. His fingers hooked around the grate and he channeled the energy around the ship, using his physical connection to heighten his control. It squirmed and writhed, taking purchase where it could, until it had a hold on the ship like a mass of vines or webs. The Commander's brow knit together as he concentrated on the task of countering the spin, working with the external thrusters to calm the out-of-control whirling. Others saw his strain and moved immediately to help their leader and comrade, mimicking his intent but following their own individual techniques. Each person had their own way of controlling the Force, and Atretes would have found it interesting to watch had he not been struggling. Together, they aided the pilot to level out the shuttle, in time to enter atmosphere safely. Atretes got the distinct feeling that would be the least of their worries as he released his grip on the vessel at the same time the others did. He slowly stood, feeling a bit shaky after how tense his body was, and turned to look planet-side. The world grew, then disappeared in a blaze of fire sparked by atmospheric friction. Reds, oranges, and yellows streaked across the viewscreen, before they dissipated and were replaced by the reds and greens of incoming anti-air fire. The shuttle dove and spun in a controlled spiral this time, and the passengers were thrown back into their seats from the gravitational force of the manoeuvre.
Rhoujen held tight onto the door frame as he watched, his gaze intent upon the happenings. Flak fire and AA lasers were bludgeoning the shuttle and those around it. The hull shook and rattled, the air made audible gusting against the ship, and not far away another shuttle was shot out of the air with its side sheared off. Atretes shifted his gaze from forward, to the falling vessel, joined by others around him, and back forward. A laser was aimed straight at them, and hurling to aim straight through the viewport. The Commander dove backward and curled into a ball, the other Knights following suit as quick as they could, bracing for the shrieking beam of energy that tore through the ship and razed its interiour. The world went black.
"...Doesn't look... survived..."
"...War... ...hostages..."
"...Why... ill them..."
"...Dangerous..."
"...No ...could be useful."
Atretes shifted, hearing voices in his concussive haze, and his eyes strained to focus on what was going on around him. Everything seemed to ache, and he had no idea where he was. A thought in the back of his mind decided he was lucky enough to not have smashed into the shielding around Theed. There was some sort of yelling, screaming, panic. It didn't make sense, then he heard a lightsaber ignite followed by a volley of blaster fire and a pained groan. His body was recovering, but his mind was able to work now. He concentrated inwardly and brought a kindling light of the Force to fruition within himself, and it slowly worked through his body, mending tissue and soothing bruising. Veins sealed, and a headache that was working to surface eased off. His eyes focused, and he found he was buried under slag, centimetres from being crushed, and had a crack to look outside with. Wherever they were, the crash site was surrounded by Protectorate infantry. Probably a small detachment sent out to investigate, though that rose the question of how long he had been out. He felt around gingerly, and his fingers slipped around the hilt of his main lightsaber. He took a quiet breath, testing his lungs and ribs. The healing had done its job of making him functional. That was all he needed right now. He drew on power again, this time with a different intent. He blended together his abilities, and closed his eyes to focus. He drew heavily on the Force, and concentrated that energy into a multi-phase ball under his control. He compacted it, coiling it like a spring, and then... he released it.
The first layer was of lightning. It clung to the metals around him and set them alight with electricity. Immediately following the charge came a blast of kinetics, launching the debris outward in a volley that cleared and area around him. It sent lighter chunks flying in every direction, several of them impacting Protectorate soldiers and electrocuting them like a stun stick, and a few causing friendly casualties. Hopefully those affected would have had some knowledge to remove the charged metal. The final wave was more controlled by Atretes, now standing, but still as wild and hazardous. A wave of flame shot out, similar to the Commander's attacks on Roon, where the flames parted for his allies and spared no mercy for his enemies who scorched and burned under the azure inferno he commanded. The ball of energy released, Atretes ignited his saber and called out a word that would be known by his Obsidians from the turning point of the Fall:
"RISE!"
The shout brought back the fire in the hearts of his soldiers, and those who were able slew the surviving Protectorate foot soldiers. Then they turned to their own and those who could heal did so while those who couldn't kept watch and defended. Rhoujen walked the area, using his normally offencive powers to lift scorched metal and form small huts, and free the wounded from their durasteel coffins. They would likely be here awhile, recovering from the crash, but they were at least planet-side, and alive.
