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Confront them with annihilation, and they will then survive; plunge them into a deadly situation, and they will then live. When people fall into danger, they are then able to strive for victory.
- Sun Tzu
Location: Planetside
Allies: The Sith Empire; [member="Sith Muse"] Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore; [member="Kaine Australis"] Objective: Survive! Post: 10
A successful blow appeared to offer a momentary advantage for the halfbreed, one he foolishly moved forwards to act upon. As he tugged at the blade he was taken aback by the fact it was trapped in the Mandalorian's arm. He was quite literally sent back as the Mandalorian hammered home an uppercut into the Sith Lord's helmet. Almost comically he was lifted from the floor while his helmet unlatched and hung awkwardly on his head. Shock coursed through Vaulkhar's system for a split second as he stumbled back. The shift in the General's knee was the only hint offered Vaulkhar before the dart shot towards him.
Better to be safe than sorry, Vaulkhar pushed himself towards the wall and made impact. He narrowly avoided the dart which now sat embedded several feet behind him in the wall. The Sith Lord straightened and stared down the general.
Vaulkhar's hands rose towards his head slowly. He finished what Kaine started and tossed the helmet aside. Strangely enough, the long shock of white hair went along with it, revealing itself to likely be a wig attached to the helmet. There was an alien sort of beauty to the Sith Lord. Blood ran down his chin from a split and bruised lip. It dripped noiselessly to the floor below, masked only by the sounds of the two warrior's breathing along with distant, rumbling explosions. Long, raven black locks were braided close to the head. His eyes were a dull blue color, his features were angular and pointed. There was no doubt the stranger before the Mandalorian General was an epicanthix, but he was much smaller than his hulking father.
"Call me old fashioned, but there is a certain intimacy to looking your foe in the eye as you do battle."
A gloved hand gripped the lightsaber hilt hanging from his belt. With a flick of the thumb, the saber ignited and bathed the room in a vermilion glow. Getting a good look at Vaulkhar now, Kaine would see a genuine lack of emotion in his gaze. Only a sense of emptiness and apathy were seen in his gaze, even as he launched himself towards the commander at a swift pace.
Without the force, the Sith was quick. Beyond that, there was no wasted movement or energy. Each step taken reflected a veteran, not much different from the Mandalorian himself.
Precise slashes and thrusts rained down on the commander, aimed towards his neck.
"I must say, you're rather skilled. It's unfortunate we meet as foes, rather than allies."
Her wasps ripped and tore into the flesh of citizens. The concord of their screams swelled and faded with the movement, like a sea of sound. Yet, Darth Vornskr the Second could also see where the music was stopped and pushed back, through guns and through electricity.
Her walkers were taking fire from Claymores. She could see one falling, joints crumbled. The Hordemother inside fell out, egg sac bursting. Freshly lain eggs breaking open with various fully or half formed wasps climbing out and doing what they were set to do, albeit with less conditioning than their fully formed kin. They would die in the fires, but spread panic all the while.
From her vantage point, Joycelyn could see Clan Gred and a number of rag tag fighters that had shored up around a ship, including one zapping her beasts with heretical use of the dark side. A sneer crossed her lips as she tugged her fellbeast’s reins. She would not let that ship get away if she could help it.
“Deploy the Graug.” “Tanks and legionnaires shore up the perimeter while they are busy with the wasps” “Crownguard, on me.”
She brought her kakdijs zuta around to the right, toward her army, then spurred it further around and down. The pseudodragon dropped from the building and unfurled its wings to glide down deeper between the buildings. Its clawed limbs clutched onto the next building as it released another torrent of green, noxious gas, then it glided again with a few heavy flaps of leathery wings. Joycelyn waved the plasma tip of her lightpike in a wide sweep, then thrust it against the blockade around the ship.
Her monstrous legion of Graug flowed into the city next. Their armours thick, guns heavy, and blades viciously sharp. Graug had a special affinity for slaughter and a thirst for combat which, combined with the chaos caused by the slowly dwindling sith wasps, made for a spectacular scene of bloodshed. But unlike the wasps, the Graug and their kin did not pick indiscriminately; the sought a fight, and they fought smart. They did not rush into the advance, but used the broken terrain for cover and held ground behind them
Joycelyn’s detachment of Imperial Crownguard followed her into the city, staying at a lower height and jumping with jump packs to keep up with the advance of her fellbeast. She brought it around the side of where she had seen the chain lightning was spawned, and swept in on her winged beast.
“Nyashjontû Wo!”
As she shouted the words through her annunciator, the kakdijs zuta released a new torrent of gas. Joycelyn jumped from the saddle, spear in hand. She hit the ground like thunder as her black armour scratched the ground. Blue fire licked the edges of her armour, along her arms and legs, responding instinctively to her bloodthirst, while the Crownguard jumped in behind her.
Six Crownguard, wielding lightpikes like Joycelyn herself, jumped in around her. Six others stopped higher up, raining blasterfire down from above to keep the Princess of Dromund Kaas safe. For all the Crownguard’s worry about the Princess’ safety, they knew better than to try to keep Joycelyn Zambrano from the front lines. They were no basic troops themselves, but akin to a Sith Knight.
Imperius! Imperius! -Her army chanted in response to Joycelyn’s battlecry. They grew ever closer as they pushed in behind the monsters, closing the noose around ArmaTech city.
A Ship Decends. A Blade Ignites. A Roar Rips Through the Air
The Lord Of War Has Arrived
The thrusters of the Lightening Bolt sputtered as Morgoth landed it behind Imperial lines. Clink" Clink" Clink" The sounds of his metallic boots rang through the air, the smell of burnt blaster cannisters and scorched bodies in his nose. A black blade in his hand he smiled as the heat from it made the air around it crackle and pop. Looking around he saw a city in flames and what wasn't would be soon. As the clinking turned to crunching he made his way down into the city, the gravel giving way to his massive feet. Making his way through alleys he could hear the ever in step walking of the Mandalorian "Civilians". Deciding to make himself known he stepped out behind them, his eyes locking on a group of men some of them clad in armor some of them looked like they had been sleeping when the invasion began. "Six of them, not even a challenge" He thought as he sprang into action. Two of them were fast to react, spinning around in time to pelt him with blasts from their repeaters, but not fast enough. Augmenting his jump with a slight tug on the Dark Current he cleared the shots with ease. As he landed his blade cut through 2 of them, the next two drew vibro-blades, short but effective. The Sith Lord flicked his wrists throwing two blades into the chests of the wielders of one another, each one sizzling as it cut through flesh like butter. The final two stood glaring, their rage palpable as they prepared to meet their doom, each one armed with a rifle that they knew would not protect them from the wrath of the being in front of them. His hand snapping forward Morgoth threw his blade through the throat of one and charged the other. Dodging the shots of the pathetic weapon he grabbed the throat of the mandalorian crushing it as he slammed him into the ground. "Easy"
Looking around he noted that the street was empty now and would be a good place to show off his new toys. "Send in the drop ships"
Location: New Keldabe
Objective: Bring the heavy rain
Allies: Sith empire [member="Darth Morgoth"] [member="Sith Muse"]
Enemies: Mandalorians
Oriaxes receiving the message from his sith commander smiles as he gives the signal to drop down one of the new toys that he was so graciously gifted to use.. The mobile fortress drops from the cargo hold as the mandalorin awaits impact he laughs at the carnage outside. His eyes gleeming in the excitement of the combat under his mask and his eyes burning with anticipation. The massive tank collided with the ground as Oriaxes fires the first ion cannon himself into a building that as far as Oriaxes could tell should have at least 20 mandalorians within. He watched the building collapse as he maneuvers out of the tank and calling over the com.
“Well well captain let’s pave the way for the small guys.” He says with a laugh before exclaiming,”Now boys if it looks important blow it up!” He calls to his crew as they open fire with the war machine.
He slings a large blaster from over his shoulder and tears through 4 civilians as his LMG opened a spray of bolts into their bodies. He smiles as he begins to lay on a thick array of blasts from the gun into the largest group of mandalor inhabitants as he can before beginning to reload the behemoth of the gun.
Chink" Chink" Chink" Boom!" Came the sound of the behemoth that was The Vulcan Mobile Fortress landing on the several buildings as it created its own landing pad in the cityscape. Several shots rang out across the city as the ion cannons fired ripping holes in the once Iron Jungle Of Mandalore, Though it landed meters behind him The Sith Lord did not flinch. "Good work, destroy everything!" Morgoth shouted over his coms back to his Mandalorian Blade. Holstering his own weapon he raised his hand focusing himself on the power of The Dark Current. His eyes coldly locked onto a massive structure in front of him as he said "Shatter" "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" the squeal of metal on metal came from inside as the building began to topple into the building next to it. Images raced through his mind of his past and of his people. The cries of this city reminded him of his own warriors proud and angry until the bitter end. "You have my respect but not my mercy"
Oriaxes looks upon the enemies of the empire with a dark coldness over coming his mind and body. He watched the fortress crushing any structure in its path. He growls under his breath as he grabs the hand cannon from his belt firing a slug into an enemy that decided to rush him.
“Worthless” He speaks coldly as the body hits the floor. He then places his pistol back to his belt as he pulls out one of his favorite toys. The mjonir drawing three arrows as he fires them into multiple mandalorian grunts. He grins watching them hit the floor into a crumpled pile of armor. He then pulls an ion grenade throwing into a nearby building watching it blast into pieces before firing another arrow into two more mandalorian civilian.
“Drop 30 troops from the fortress and continue the siege. If it isn’t wearing red and it moves. Make it red.”
He calls out to the few soldiers that hop out of the fortress.
Location: Concord Dawn Objection: Aiding the Mando Post: 7 Tagging: [member="Taozi Fuyuan"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
Hell's Inferno...
That were the only means of her describing it, if she could put nothing more into words.
The fertile plains west of the mountain range were ablaze.
Fire, smoke, embers being carried up in the tornado winds of the blaze lit the sky red. Everything below her as she crossed the plains were ablaze...trees..forests..farms..homesteads...all ablaze.
For a moment she were besides herself...forgetting exactly where she were and who had done this. All she could see as she slowed her ship were an entire horizon of hellfire upon the good fertile earth. All that lived in one form or another..were burning.
Be de beep be...her droid had been beeping, chirping or whatnot in its effort to pull her out of her daze. The Mariner was flying now at less than mach speed above the burning earth.
"Berkana... these were only farms... homesteads..." She spoke to her god, as if her god hadn't known.
Families...men, women and children...livestock...wildlife... the sith were torching the plains... the agricultural remote communities.
be de beep be... her droid RU-TK1213 detached from his current station and came besides her. Extending out one of his appendages, a service arm which unfolded to grab hold of the Mariner IV's main thrusters, he punched it.
The ship immediately lurched forward as the burning tree line below exploded. "What?! ...what-" It took a blink of an eye for her to return, to realize what her droid had done.
A missile or projectile of sort had been coming at them and her droid had just saved her hide.
"How in blazes they target us in this-..." Oh wait. Burning hell inferno below...cooler ship above the inferno. They had stuck out on infra red scanners like an ice cube.
Marina quickly regained her senses, blurry vision setting in, but still able to fly her ship away from whatever, whomever had fired on them from god-knows-where. Only thing now was that they were pretty much lost as what to do and where to go for a moment. Yes, they had alternate plan 'B' and 'C' among other options. Just that they were to follow plan 'A' drop off supplies in the great plains and move on to 'B' and so on.
But this...THIS she had not expected to find.
The farmers....the families... the children whom had made the fertile plains in the West their home. Had they all perished in the flames or had Berkana her god been merciful and spared them? Spared one? Ten?
Marina felt shameful to pray and ask of one, even ten to have been spared. She wanted all to have been spared. But the hell she were flying over were not of her god's making, but of sith. Still, did not Berkana assize over them too? Had she not created all...good and evil?
"Then why have you foresaken them?!" She shouted, before she tightened her grip on the ship's controls and vectored off North. Behind them, another explosion ripped into the forest they had been flying over. Silhouettes of tree trucks and dark debris in the inferno seemed to fly about. The had been fired upon again and Marina had turned her ship just before the missile came into contact with them. Again, this missile hadn't had the time or altitude to make corrections and detonated upon hitting the burning groves.
Her droid turned it's turret to look at her, not knowing why she said that or it's meaning. It knew she were not speaking or ordering it to do anything per say. But it knew Marina enough and calculated she were in some form of silent debate over this destruction with her spiritual god...an entity it could not connect with, nor confirm its existence. But if Marina believed in it, then it too must. Her droid were created by Marina's grandfather to be fully devoted to her. And RU-TK1213 was. Only that it had bonded with her regardless if it had been a prime directive or not.
It were all of what was hammering, tossing about, in her head at the moment.. the fate of the Mandos that had made what was now turning to ashes, their home.. How could anyone do this? Who would raze entire farmlands and forests like this? Where was the gain in it?
The foreboding answer obviously were the 'sith'.
A cold sweat suddenly overtook the blonde. If there were any time she had a tinge of darkness overcome her...a vengeance equal to that of Berkana's own angels, it were at this very moment. And in that moment she actually wished for her god to burn the sith. To burn ALL SITHS onto the very flames of hell.
But that were for only a moment...
Be be beep beep... Her astromech droid pressed for them to leave this sector. How far the sith had spread the inferno? It were unclear, as the monitors at the low altitude she were flying could not sense over the horizon.
At her present altitude (just above the inferno) all her ship's scanners could pick up and record were the burning hills as she continued on northbound to her alternate location.
It were obvious the siths were razing and burning farmlands and fertile forests...a wicked and vile tactic begotten from ancient times long forgotten until now...
Cohort: The Sith Empire | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Rage"]
Adversaries: United Clans of Mandalore | [member="Mig Gred"]
His initial strike had been swift but so had his enemy's. The nimble blade of Hakai's katana reverberated violently in his grasp, his teeth grinding together as the weapons loudly rapped upon each other. If the Ronin had been charging full force he would have been forced to follow through, as it was however, he had merely darted the tip of his blade towards his opponent. It was little effort to flick the point back upwards and assume a defensible stance. Like a nexu stalking its prey, Hakai shifted his weight and took a step to his left in a circular motion around the Mandalorian. Keeping his blade up, he made several smaller steps towards the man, attempting to force him from the spot he stood without outright making a move. It was a tedious task.
-
Around the two men, the battle for the homestead had erupted in earnest. This wasn't like the battles of conquest over a large city, a world, or even a sector - this was far more personal. For years, possibly generations, the family of their foe had lived, eaten, sweat, worked, and died here on this homestead. The defenders were tenacious, a fact that had frustrated the efforts of Hakai's Retainers. One of them had been caught off balance in the first barrage of combat, his body still littering the edge of the impromptu arena. Another had taken cover behind one of the outlying buildings, pinned by sporadic blaster fire.
The other two however, had worked in tandem, fending off a few blaster bolts by way of ducking and dodging - then they had been set upon. One of the Mandalorians had charged them and closed within melee range nearly as fast as they'd noticed. The assaulted retainer had barely been able to lift his electrostaff in defense, the long shaft ringing with every enemy strike. Their assailant was strong and swift. Carefully the retainer drew back a step then two more, yielding ground to the voracious assault. Meanwhile the other began a flanking motion. If they could draw the man away from his support, they would make it an unfair fight.
-
Hakai and the valiant defender of the Gred Estate had begun the dance, their weapons feinting and parrying without commitment. Like two hunters testing and watching each other for weakness they jousted. A step forward and a checked strike, a step backwards and a flick of the wrist forcing an adjustment in stance - it was a dangerous dance. Keeping his blade high, Hakai flicked his foot upwards sending about a fistful of sand into the air towards his foe's faceplate. Following up, his blade flicked out between the man's shoulder and neck, this time a slashing motion. It was the one problem with his weapon of choice - you had to find a weak spot, or else it was little more than metal on metal.
Did Tehkyram make a mistake in taking on the Basilisk? Perhaps. Was it terribly relevant? Not necessarily. The armor held fine against the steel, and instead he only cracked a few ribs, a bit of internal bleeding, nothing overtly mortal. He would endure. After all, he may be stupid and brutish in his instinctual nature, but the Mandalorian was no wiser than him. The air above New Keldabe was purely the domain of the Sith. Again, the lone Mandalorian moved further from the battlefield and deeper and deeper into Sith territory. Now it wasn't just the swarm of wyverns which were coming up after the droid, but the actual naval forces: A squadron of Tuk'ata Interceptors had noticed the ascending droid and were now rapidly closing in on its position, releasing their first volley of missiles already. And weren't that enough, another Mandalorian was closing in even faster, on some sort of suicidal collision course. How droll, everyone had a death wish. But as for the main issue, the matter of the rising atmosphere and thin air? Certainly the interceptors and wyverns and rivals could take the droid down, but Tehkyram had no intention of going down with it. No he would not fall here.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, he supposed.
Tehkyram focused on his shattered bones, the pain in his chest. He channeled that pain, the horrific burden of merely breathing, all of the anguish and suffering, all of that and he channeled it into the dark side. One final burst of strength, that was all he needed. He grabbed each of the claws compressing his chest, gripping them firmly, and then, with just as much might as he had expended into pushing back against the engines, he pushed the claws apart. It was a sudden, violent exhalation, a single push that tore his insides as much as it tore the claws asunder. The damage was not significant, he merely needed to wrench the two apart. Wrench the two pincers apart so he could fall.
And fall Tehkyram did. He left the Basilisk and its rider to fend with the missiles, the lasers, the bio-plasma. Let that tie him down while Tehkyram could regroup, recover, enjoy that weightless, death-like sensation of falling. He spread his limbs out, closed his eyes, and relaxed his body. The pain of breathing was still there, but it was dulling as his strength returned to him. The Basilisk may just come for him again, and this time, Tehkyram would be properly ready.
And to think, this was just supposed to be a simple massacre...
The fight between them was dynamic and ferocious, each one slashing at each other with their chosen weapons. The Emperor's glaive spinning in lethal rotations, the Inferno's polearm slashing and jabbing whenever the Emperor made himself vulnerable. Though most of the Emperor's body was protected by impenetrable Impervium, his biggest weak point was his midsection; which was only protected by an armorweave bodysuit and flexible metal plating. Core maneuverability was critical to the Emperor's fighting style, which necessitated the exclusion of more rigid hardpoints along this more vulnerable midsection. To compensate, the Emperor often centered his guard in and around his midsection to dissuade enemy attempts to take advantage.
But it served a dual purpose for the most advantageous opponents of the Emperor. If they were bold enough and attempt to exploit this glaring fault, then it would put them directly into the Emperor's grasp. Yasha had yet to go for this weak point, but she was more seasoned than the others in the room.
The boy had yet to be tested.
Yasha came at him again with her bladed weapon, its tip catching one of the grooves in the Emperor's shoulder-protection and ricocheting out and away from the armor. Her hammer, however, struck him fully on the chin. The Emperor's head snapped backwards from the impact, his legs backpedaling from the momentum; yet not fully falling. Blood rushed down the front of his armor like a waterfall, the grotesque damage not fully apparently from the awkward angle the Emperor's head had been cracked.
For a moment, the Emperor seemed paralyzed where he stood as the deluge of vermillion fluid slowed to a trickle, and then ceased entirely.
Then his head popped forward, his jaw a broken ruin from where the hammer had cracked it.
Gingerly he reached up with armored fingers to touch the mangled flesh and broken bone, pushing certain portions back into some semblance of order as something miraculous began to take hold of his body. Bone started to reknit itself, flesh coalesced, skin reappeared. The scars of the blow would be forever evident on his already weathered and beaten face, but his jaw and the surrounding flesh regenerated within the span of a few seconds.
"I thought you would have learned," spoke the Emperor through cracked lips, his words slurred as his tongue continued to regrow in his mouth, "From the camp on Er'kit." His left hand reached behind his back, a cache of several grenades hanging from magnetic grapples on the rear of his armored waist. "Whatever bones you break, shall be remade." Without much warning, the Emperor chucked roughly four or five of the explosive devices hidden away behind him. Not towards Yasha or her son directly, but towards the room behind them. The devices only held a short detonation timer, and would explode upon contact with the ground. The explosion would be of moderate size, enough to send anyone nearby scrambling towards the ground from the blast pressure wave. Globs of fiery liquid would spread out from each impact zone, coating any surface with ghoulish emerald flames that could not be extinguished by water.
"Behold," bellowed the Emperor, "The Breath of Nereus!"
K O R _ V E X E N Location | Mandalore, Sundari Outskirts Objective | Operation Pitfall - Occupy Sundari TSE and Irate Mandalorians | Allies The UCM | Adversaries
Vexen was in the midst of scattering Mandalorians caught in his destructive wake, a limp corpse grasped by its neck in one hand as his crimson saber hung by his side at the other. It was an odd strategy to completely abandon the outer defenses of Sundari with an invading army surrounding the capital. The sensible thing to do that Vexen would have pursued had this been any enemy other than the Mandalorians was to simply blockade the city and starve all of its inhabitants, as well as killing them off in the least glorious manner imaginable to a warrior, without the graces of battle to see them off into the endless nothingness that was the afterlife. That was the sensible course of action. However, Vexen wished to see if there were still wolves among them that were worthy enough to call themselves true Mandalorians. This was not an invasion in Vexen's eyes, merely a test to cull the weak and let the worthy rise above the worthless. In his vision of the future, only the strong would remain to serve as prey worthy of hunting and feasting off of.
Not long after the surprise Rumbler attack from within the city several more breaches in the wall were made as his troops had attempted to flood the city. Not too surprisingly the enemy had stalled his advance into the city with the main force using missiles. A report would soon come in from the captain of his advanced troops already within the city as information was being sent on the locations of the missile batteries within range of the largest breach. A minor setback at best, but not one that would do much to entirely halt their advance. According to the reports he was receiving the enemy continued to pull back towards the center of the city, tightening up their defensive lines to protect the palace. A somewhat intelligent move in the long run as it lessened the likelihood that their lines would be breached and more susceptible to being hit from multiple directions, but it simply herded the sheep closer together. And then what? Abandoning the outer city simply gave more room for Vexen and his troops to take up residence and use the surrounding city as cover. ___
His thoughts would be interrupted as a barrage of blaster bolts came his way. The shots would simply fizzle and dissipate as they encountered an invisible shield courtesy of his armor as Vexen turned his head in the direction of the shots. His gaze would fall upon a young boy, no older than perhaps fifteen, with a blaster in his hands; rather than fear in his eyes however, there was a burning determination in them, whether it be hatred or simply anger. Vexen's gaze lingered on the boy as several of his troops immediately turned and leveled their rifles to return fire ready to perforate the child. It was well known that Mandalorians trained their young in battle from a young age, to the extent were they were considered as hostile combatants in combat. This boy had been raised well it appeared, a shame that he would have to die so young. The barrage of blaster bolts fired from his troops would race towards the boy only to suddenly freeze midair, held at bay by Vexen's power as he held up a fist. A simple gesture and casting his arm out later, the blaster bolts would angle themselves in different directions as they were released, bolts blasting the ground and walls near the boy yet not a single one harming the child.
The boy would drop his blaster though he stood there as defiant as can be despite staring death in the face. Despite being so young, there remained that spark of defiance within the child that affirmed in Vexen's mind that there were a few prized gems among the population worth anything to him. His hand would reach out as he simply yanked the child from where he stood, sending him flying towards Vexen. The Anzati Sith would firmly grasp the boy by the throat who struggled and threw his fists at Vexen's helmeted face. Vexen admired the boy's spirit, which is why he granted him the mercy of watching his home burn. Vexen would channel the Force through the boy's body, putting him in stasis, freezing him to watch everything happen around him while being unable to act. He'd toss the boy to the side, leaving him to fester. Perhaps if the boy were to survive, he would grow stronger to avenge his people. Perhaps then he would be someone worthy of his time. ___
Vexen had given his strike force some time to soften up the missile batteries, but he did not entirely halt his advance. Rather he would begin to push with armored vehicles. The rumbling of the earth would begin to intensify as the wall of the dome crumbled, revealing a pair of massive HAVt Barrage class tanks beginning to roll through the breach. As they came through, their anti missile systems would begin to target the missiles that were firing on their position, creating a protective no-fly zone against missiles as Legionnaires scrambled to establish ray shield generators, moving to establish a larger zone and a foothold for additional troops and vehicles to prep for the push towards the center.
Give me a few hundred good men and I will bring a kingdom to its knees - Give me an army and I will bring an entire civilization to ruin
[SIZE=11pt]In truth, Irilius could only slam his fist in annoyance as his warfleet was torn apart. The fight was quickly turning in Mandalorian favor after the annihilation of his fellow Commodore’s fleet: and there was more glory to be had alone, but there was no glory to be had in defeat. Damnable rats. At least he could make claim to weakening the Concord Dawn defense fleet.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He would at least take solace if the mandalorians earned a short lived pyrrhic victory. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Shouting out orders, hiding the subtle cringe in his heart as the damaged Harrower was rendered useless and left to instead evacuate those who had survived the devastating assault. With it, the Peace shook as mines rocked her underside and plasma burned across her ever weakening shields. But still the Morganian stayed locked in his chair, a plan was formulating in his head.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“All tractor beams on that Harrower! Full power!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Fine. This was the game they were playing, with every intention in his heart he was merely going to throw the Harrower at the Doge. The cannons of the Peace, while still dangerous, lessened in their firepower as the dead hulk was pulled forward. The close proximity of his warships made it a far less daunting task than it would’ve seemed initially. His fleet kicked back what it could, what remained were the far less well armed ships and his battered support craft. But they tried nonetheless, unleashing whatever firepower they could at the nearest targets.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The fighters responded as one would expect, swarming where they could whilst the still dangerous Gunships did not relent in their fighting with the Beskads: unleashing whatever salvo they could to try and eliminate the strongest of the Mandalorian fighter support.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Though as Irilius made his own last stand, he could feel a new joy as the Imperial support burst out from hyperspace. Letting out a hearty laugh of escaping his death, he could simply accept that maybe he wouldn’t have all the glory: this time. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]
[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Fleet Actions[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Damaged Harrower abandoned[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Remaining Harrowers damaged[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] takes serious damage from the various sources [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Peace [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]attempts to throw abandoned Harrower at the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Doge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Support vessels and remaining ships open fire at closest target[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Gunships try to destroy Beskads[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Remaining craft continue with former orders [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Mig glared at Hakai as they dueled, becoming more of a standoff than anything. Mig kept his eyes on the man, determined not to give up his home. They would strike and move, but no one really went into it. This was often the sign of a good swordsman. Patients. The Mando’ad’jetii used both his eyes and the Force to watch how his opponent moved, what he did. Searching for any weakness.He was soon met by dirt in his faceplate though, and his normal vision was obstructed. He felt the weapon coming to him, and quickly brought his blade up, and while he blocked the hit, he hit it wrong, and the heavy blaster/blade was knocked out of his hand. [/SIZE]The Mandalorian quickly used a Force Push to send dust and attempting to send his opponent off balance. It was then that Mig pulled out the Echani Vibrosword. He eyed his enemy, holding the much lighter weapon in one hand before charging the Sith before him, aiming to strike low.
[SIZE=10.5pt]Ilik meanwhile eyed his opponent, slashing at him still. He hadn’t initially noticed, at least until something came to him. Something painful. Everything seemed to be flooding into the old man’s head, but it wasn’t his own emotions. It was everyone around him. The medic felt a shot of pain go through him, letting out a yell before finally looking at his opponent, then turning to the flanker, still gritting his teeth. He then quickly swapped both weapons to blaster mode, taking a shot at each Retainer before rolling out of the way. This feeling. He knew it well. It was the Force! A hint of the Dark Side would be felt from Ilik for a moment, but he seemed to settle between light and dark. But how.... He had used Force Sever to... and it wasn't always permanent. Of course![/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Leddie looked up at the Clan Tal Mandalorian that she had been handed to. She squirmed and kicked while she was being carried off to the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Free Enterprise[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]. “No! Wait! What about Buir? We have to wait for for him! Wait! B-Buir! Daddy!” The girl started crying again. She had oh so recently had a family again, and it felt like she was losing her old family all over again. Dragged away from them to be a slave. Of course she wasn’t being thrown into slavery this time, but it was too similar to Leddie. It was too close to what she had already been through. She couldn’t stop herself from crying and screaming during all of it. She didn’t know or care if any of the Tal understood what she was going through. She didn’t even know. She was six for Kad’s sake! Not even a Mandalorian would want a six year old to go through this. All the while, Clan Gred continued to try and keep the evac site safe, and attacked the Sith at every turn. They wouldn’t let them win, even if not in a victory today, then in failing to kill them all.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]In one portion of the city, Talyn rod on her Varactyl, an orange male named Kad, attacking any Sith forces she found. Her Trayc’kad was fitted with a scatter gun blaster, giving her a nice shotgun effect. She was joined by a green female, Jeira, and two Acklay, Kordos and Bury, all her beasts under her lead. The Mandalorian’s goal: Keep the Sith away from the evac ship.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]In space, the Gred Fleet commander was surprised by what he saw when the transmission came in from the new ships. They were Mandalorian! Thank Kad, the Manda, and the Force! He quickly relayed another transmission to the ships, using the same light beam transmission technique.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]“Oya! Ni ceta vod. Ganar at cuyir utrel'a (Sorry vod. Have to be clear. I.e. Have to be sure.)” It was then, as information for a plan was being relayed, that a new group of Sith vessels appeared into realspace, coming in behind and to the lower right of the fleet the Gred’s had focused on. He looked as the large battlecruisers moved into a fighting position, and sent another transmission. “Olaror norac oyayc, vod (Come back alive)” as his way of wishing luck to the fleet.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]It was then that the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] did something that shocked the commander, though given what had just happened, it really shouldn’t have. The star destroyer threw a disabled Harrower at the Mandalorian vessel. “All weapons on the ship now!” The Mon Cala styled ship opened all her plasma batteries, trying to shred the ship before it could impact. They only half succeeded. The vessel was soon rocked by impacts of the Harrower’s debris, and the shields could only do so much. The hull was hit hard as weapons were taken out. Multiple plasma cannons, point defense weapons and one of the gravity cannons were damaged to the point of uselessness. Holes were punched in the hull, making it clear that she was limping. The commander grit his teeth, looking around. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]“Osik! Did they even give the crew time to…?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]“Sith don’t care sir, but yes.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet mostly continued their previous assignments, though the Torrent-types turned their torpedoes on the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt], intent on bringing her down![/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The Doge[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] fires on the Harrower that is thrown at her, turning a portion into debris while still take major damage from the impact.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The order is sent to move away from the enemy fleet.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The Firebrands take shield damage, and begin to fire on the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] with their particle cannons.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Enigma [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]continues to pepper the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]..[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Taanabian Spirit [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]continues to fire on the Harrowers with all her weapons, but stay well away.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The bomb module Beskads are attacked, and attempt to engage the gunships with their own weapons while moving away from the enemy fleet. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The missile module Beskads are wiped out.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The Torrent-types fire all their torpedoes on the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Peace[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt].[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The strike craft continue their fight.
Post #: 3
Allies: UCM and UCM-Friendly
Location: ArmaTech City, Concord Dawn
Chaos. Utter, gods-damned chaos. Hope was slowly starting beginning to drain from Quintus' heart. The damned, acid-puking wasps still swarmed in the skies. And now, on the whim of whomever the Sith commander was in this siege, a distant chant began growing louder and stronger. The Sith had released the Graug, those abominations that were a death sentence to many worlds. It seems that it was thus, that his destiny was to end here. So be it.
Readying sword and shield, he moved closer to where he saw some of the Tal Clan was fighting. They were still a ways away, but enough that he could see them and be of help if they called upon him. A gang of the filthy, grotesque parody of humanoids advanced near him. He drew a deep breath, and let loose a scream to shake the heavens. He would let Kad Harangir himself hear his cries of wrath. With righteous fury, Quintus pierced his beskar blade into the throat of one of the beasts, before facing another.
The wasps still flew over head, spitting acidic bile at him. He moved his shield to deflect it. This, however, was his fatal error. One of the Graug he faced snatched him by his shield arm, and began to bash him and crush him against the hard ground nearby. So strong were these monsters, that a man was but an idle plaything to them. He soon felt it, then heard it. A painful snap before a moist rip. The sheer force had sent him flying...leaving his shield arm in the hand of his aggressor.
Quintus saw stars, and the darkness of pain at the edge of his vision. His helmet had been knocked off as he descended. Blood trickled from the flayed stump from whence his right arm once met his torso. Surely, he was marked for death. He felt many bones broken, but he was determined to fight until the end. He brazenly, albeit shakily, stood. Sword still clenched in hand as the beasts came around him again. He slashed futilly at them, managing to get just one scarring cut over another's eye. Once more he felt the sensation of flight as they tossed him again, the force hitting against his lower spine. He felt the nerves fade in his legs.
His face was riddled with scars, his wound bleeding, and paralysis setting in the only chance to run away. He choked and coughed, blood running out of his mouth. He smiled, rasping a little as his assailants seemed to circle him. He reached for his belt, pulling out a metal sphere.
"Yasha...." He said, choking on his word, "Thank you...for a second chance."
He knew his Alor was planets away, likely fighting her own battle on Mandalore. He did not care. If these were to be his last words, he wished to thank the woman who had forgiven his sins.
"See you...in Haran." He growled, activating the device in his hand and tossing it at his enemies.
A small radius, sonic blast went off, incapacitating his assailants for the time being. Quintus slowly felt darkness close in around him. Echoes of the past speaking to him as he straddled the line between life and death.
The Blood Hound let a delicious giggle out as her body was pressed against the Mandalorian's, the tongue of his whip coiled around like a lover's belt. It was not his heart beat she was giving attention to; it was the scent of his blood that interested her more, the undertones of the shifter within him, the careful storing of it in her memory. If he did not die today by her hands, she would always remember him, even if she never got to see his face. She would know.
"My man is a big man and can handle himself," she smiled, not caring in any capacity about the collateral damage that the street was taking. She'd fought the United Clans of Mandalore before. She was willing to be her favorite knife that the damage was being caused by the Mandalorians themselves and not by the SIth.
Just as she was about to turn her lightsabers off, the hanky panky Mandalorian gave her a kiss – and not just any kiss, but a Keldabe Kiss!
Had he not been still holding her close with the whip, she would have stumbled backwards. Instead, her body leaned backwards as she felt the world, quite literally, spinning around her. For the span of a few heartbeats, there was nothing – only silence, no breathing, and all the spinning.
She did not know what he had done during those precious moments that her focus had not existed.
If she was still in his grasp with his whip around her, her hands would come up as close to his helmet as they could as she released Force Spark after Force Spark. Ideally, it would go straight to the head. A touch of Electric Shock Treatment could always do a Mandalorian good.
If, during her moments of lack of clarity, the Sith had been released from the whip, she would stumble back, and send the Force Sparks from a greater distance, still hoping to mostly hit the head, but seeing nothing wrong with hitting any other part of the Mando's body either.
After the wave of his hand, the voice in the dust broke Hevn’s tiny little heart of ice and stone right in two. The disappointment was boundlessly infuriating. This wasn’t even a Jedi? How low did one being have to sink to fight for Mandalore against their kin? Perhaps this Sithling was lost, looking for his master, to slay and claim title of Dark Lord? Hevn was pretty sure the Zambrano’s didn’t run things that way. This traitor would surely be logged somewhere, and charged with execution for desertion, treason, or negligence to his duty to pound beskar into a shallow grave this day. He was already dead and Hevn hadn’t gotten to lift a finger yet.
Quite impressively, his roommate in the dust cloud managed not only to stay hidden but also shield himself simultaneously. Such duality was no small feat in Hevn’s mind. The thing was focused. On what goal though? The question was beyond Hevn’s ability to fathom why a Sith would not simply stand aside as Sith killing Mandalorians were dispatched for the greater good of the force.
Hevn lets the thought swiftly move one ear and out the other. His motives didn’t matter. The being appears in the pool of his aura as it releases its cloaks to allegedly stand before him. Confirmed dark sider only now, as far as Hevn was concerned officially. Patience was a far more efficient method of investigating certainties. As he felt the aura of the Sith grow, something eclipses it, eclipses them both entirely.
Power beyond reckoning crashed through the Sundari gates and joined the field of energies within the dome. A black hole sun touched down within the cities realm, and began to slither hastily across the battlefield. It was a seething entity of darkness whose path was flattened before it and left not but bones and rubble in its wake. Jormuganders hiss declares what Hevn already knew to be true. He knew the presence to be familiar, in an even rarer sense than it simply being his Brother. He had only felt Alkor burn like that on Muunilinst. The gates of Sundari Brother! Alkor was the Fang that broke the skin, the Fang that would drive its way into the heart of this city. Hevn and Scherezade were on that stroke. He was proud for the first time in a very long time to be a Jen’jidai. His feat would echo throughout history into eternity on the tongues of all who bore witness to the fall of Sundari.
Hevn’s coals were molten hot. Proud as he was there was a gap for hatred within it. Glory to his brother while he was left being serenaded by a very confused Sith. Control was the difference. His rage calls out to the dark side of the force, and festers as it rallies to him. In Hevn’s hand Phantasmagoria lets out an ethereal shriek. The spirit within howled like a wolf towards Jormugander. Hevn didn’t need a comm to call out to a man he’d fought alongside for decades. Neither one of them can mistake the others signature. Hevn’s molten core radiates itself for Alkor’s scent to pick up. Phantasmagoria was a secondary reminder. Whatever personal strife brought the Knight Commander to this world on his own terms would be challenged by the call of Hevn.
The Sith were making headway against Sundari, and the Mandalorians were making them claw through hell to call today a victory. As far as Hevn cared, he was doing his duty to the Exarch. He was overseeing the safety of her children while Mandalorians were destroyed. He would make sure Scherezade left this place alive even if it meant sorely wounding her pride. He would call the Confederacy’s, neigh, the galaxy’s most venerated killer to do her good work.
He looked brutish in every sense. His every feature constructed to be a barbaric warrior. It did not change the spirit within. The Sith saw fit to stall as Sherezade and the Mandalorian clashed. Hevn, armor clad, sword poised, and senses alert maintains his posture. If the Sith saw fit to stall for time or power, so too could he. If it was reinforcements he waited on, Hevn had answered in kind. The Mandalorians were far too brilliant to make a wrong move, and so he would patiently determine the right one.
Hevn was as prepared as could be to answer the next wave of insults or action his opposition decides to take.
Can you feel it? Can you feel death coming to swallow you all? The end is coming. [member="Alkor Centaris"] is coming!
It made him giddy. Beneath the dragon’s face of his Sith mask he smiles sadistically.
The enemy approached two guards attacking from opposite sides while a third Mandalorian distinctly different in appearance and tactics appeared and began to cut loose. One went high and the other aiming low on the Mountain. each blasting with wrist weapons. The Saziliebm Mark II's advanced Vishnu layered shield system combining with the armor's energy sink ensured that the fire from their wrist lasers were harmless by the time that they splashed harmlessly off on the impervium plating. When the Mandalorian leader swept in on a jetpack and cut loose with rounds from high explore slugthrowers, the Sith Lord took a powerful round close to the chest and the weaker midsection, blood and pain radiated out as the round ran true, causing him to stumble from the impact. The Mountain pivoted to shift the weak point of his midsection away from the firing man then, to avoid more of the powerful rounds, so his slugs would collide with the strong point of the hard impervium along with the guard who went high, what the impervium didn't stop the thermal gel hardened on the impact zone to dissipate the biting kinetic wave along with the guard who went high.
Darth Prazutis activated a lightsaber on his belt and collided with the mans weapon as sparks flew from the crimson blade gripped in one titanic hand, he activated the dart launcher that fired a piercing dart towards the inner exposed area, around the inside of the thigh closer to the joint, if it would connect it would infect him with an agonizing, fast acting poison. For the second guard whose blow came high at the same time he turned his torso into an angular position to allow him to unleash a powerful, melting flamethrower salvo from his own wrist weaponry. If his immediate enemies were deposited, the Sith Lord would return his focus to the third Mandalorian by charging towards him, ensuring to turn his torso away from him, he pulled a grenade from its hook and tossed it, allowing the flashbang to go off while he attempted to launch an EMP grenade just behind the Mandalorian. It was the Sith Lords attempt to charge the man into the EMP grenade so it would hit him from behind, and possibly drive the man into it.
"By your orders." Charlyra obliged her master as she pulled at the Force around her. The Battle Sister conjured the fallen pieces of beskar and other metals bidding them to her will raising them into the air they sat so very still. A set number of defenses aimed toward them would do no good, as they were then sent toward the Mandalorians. Jagged, serrated, ugly cuts of ruins flew threw the air. Their aim was for the Mandalorian tanks and walkers they were sent with such a ferocity they did a little more than just threaten destruction. Charlyra followed in her master's path.
Those who had not been slain by the Matriarch were to be killed by the Battle Sister herself. This was not to say this was such an easy task, no - there were times in this battle where the Sith found herself surrounded. The sting of Beskad's seared across her flesh her lightsaber finding purchase in her opponent's body - the exposed joints - the points where a lightsaber would find little resistance. Today would if nothing else, be remembered as a reckoning - blood, and tears from the Mandalorians a thousand times. Over and over again each battlecry and each spoken word of Mando'a cascaded through the battlefield.
The Sith would not yield, they refused.
As Charlrya made her way through the lines, the tanks and walkers grew closer in appearance.
Her lightsaber went quiet as she looked to her master. "Cover me."
The Battle Sister would need to concentrate fully if she were to make a successful attempt at Force destruction.
Location: Sundari
Allies: UCM
Enemies: TSE
Engaging: [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]
Mood music: Another Level
Aedan looked up sensing a familiar presence before he leapt upward the force screaming at him in warning as a wave tore through where he had just been standing he landed to the left of it calmly the scythe in his hand tapping the ground as he landed. He turned his gaze on the being before him and smirked lightly as he pulled his helmet off looking towards Kezeroth he smirked. "That is no way to talk about yourself old friend." Aedan observed the hulking form of Kezeroth before he easily pulled his helmet back onto his head and spun the scythe around as he dropped into an aggressive stance eyes gleaming within the helmet. He looked forward knowing this would be a true test of his abilities as well as his friendship if anyone was going to bring the legend of the Pirate King to an end there was no better person. "So Kezeroth what brings you here on the side of the Sith?"
Rear Admiral Solieau did all that she could to resist shouting across the bridge. "Captain Haakenson, inform the captains of our escorts that they'll report to me when this is over." She did not authorize any strike on the battlecruisers, "our duties are to the DOKAWs, not shooting at battlecruisers that are just beyond our own long-range weaponry." The weapons fell short of their intended targets, and as the fleet reformed, two more DOKAWs reverted from hyperspace, bringing the total number within Concord Dawn's system up to six. Still, more would be approaching here in Concord Dawn, "advise the DOKAWs to maneuver behind the Third Moon." As for the Mandalorian's attack on the Defender and her ships? Minimal at best, the Defender seemed to soak or shrug what did manage to hit, the rest of the shots - much like their own, fell short of their target.
"Move us closer toward Tiam's forces."
"Of course," Haakenson obliged and moved to relay the orders, "at once."
It seemed Tiam would fight to the death, such a noble sentiment. "Has Almeyda been recovered?"
"Yes, one of the HIMS Stormsurge has pulled her aboard they're taking her to the infirmary now." A quick reply from the Captain as she sent orders for the fleet to keep watch on Tiam, as they would no doubt need to ensure his survival. As cold and uncaring as the Armada and overall Sith-Imperial Military may be, there was no replacing seasoned officers. It had once been said there was no shaming in retreat, better to survive and fight another day than lose more men than the cause may be worth. Solieau was then presented with information from the sensor stations.
"Mhmmm," she mulled over what had been presented.
The Rear Admiral crossed the bridge once more, and once again she hovered over Lieutenant Santos' shoulder. "Let's get another scan here, there's a disambiguation here." Lieutenant Santos must have been quite nervous, and for that Solieau could not blame them. The HIMS Defender and her fleet moved away from the pair of battlecruisers and closer to Commodore Tiam's forces putting them well in the range of the MWS "Doge" this had been the primary target for the Defender.
The HIMS Defender's sleek charcoal gray form slowly began to turn, her guns took their aim - targeting solutions for both vessels would be acquired. Then there was silence, an eerie silence just before Solieau would give her orders. Beside the Defender, the Stormcloud and Stormsurge would also adjust themselves, they sat far enough apart on either side of the Defender. Their hulls parallel to the Dowager-class ship, as their guns would acquire the MWS Taanabian Spirit, the MWS designation something that Lord Admiral Raaf had once assigned them - Mandalorian Warship.
"Enable the ionization field for the Hailstones, load ball bearing rounds." The Rear Admiral paused a moment as she thought about what the mortars would fire. "Load disruptors and begin charge on the Longbows, keep the battlecruisers on range finders. If they get even an iota closer fire the georgious."
The sound of the massive five-twelves having their ionization field enabled was a quiet orchestra that would soon sing the song of destruction.
"Stormcloud and Stormsurge have acquired the frigate."
A nod of acknowledgment, followed by a knowing look to Haakenson. Haakenson the conductor of this orchestra turned to the musicians to ensure their readiness.
"Are weapons ready?"
"Aye Captain," the lead officer for the gun crews replied.
"Fire."
The Defender's guns fired, the Hailstones lanced across the void - with promise for the Doge. One hundred and forty-four hypervelocity cannons fired in tandem with ninety-six turbolasers and ninety-six ion cannons. Solieau knew that at standard range that a portion of the hypervelocity cannons may actually miss their intended target. She was however confident that sheer size of the Doge would mean that it would so easily escape the full ferocity of the Defender's weapons fire. While not all weapons had been fired, those that did not were trained squarely on their opponents and would fire on the Rear Admiral's order.
The Stormsurge and Stormcloud fired on the Taanabian Spirit with their turbolasers and hypervelocity cannons, knowing there was a greater chance to miss with the latter of these. They too held on their mortars - fearing the risk of friendly fire, and around them, the five Dagger's moved forward making their aim for the Mandalorian corvettes. Turbolasers and ion cannons lighting up the void in an array of verdant and frost white hues. They would look to get closer to the Corvettes to make use of the short-range hypervelocity and turbolasers.
The swam of escorts split in half, with half of them remaining at the Defender's side and the other half en route for the now six DOKAWs that were making their way toward Concord Dawn's third moon.
After Action Report:
Solieau promises to rectify unauthorized weapons fire from vessels. Two more DOKAWs revert from hyperspace making the total in system six. Task Force 44 creates distance between themselves and the pair of battlecruisers. Task Force 44 closes the distance between themselves and Gred's Fleet. HIMS Defender acquires the Doge as a standard range target. HIMS Defender fires mass drivers, hypervelocity cannons, in tandem with turbolasers and ion cannons - aim for the Doge. HIMS Stormcloud and Stormsurge acquire the Taanabian Spirit as a standard range target. HIMS Stormcloud and Stormsurge fire their hypervelocity cannons in tandem with their turbolasers. HIMS Danae, Dryad, Diomede, Damocles, and Daedelus acquire the CR 90s (corvettes). HIMS Danae, Dryad, Diomede, Damocles, and Daedelus fire on CR 90s (corvettes) with their turbolasers and ion cannons. Escort group splits in half, thirty remain with the Task Force. Other thirty vessels move toward the DOKAWs. DOKAWs move for the Third Moon.
Task Force 44 Composition:
HIMS Defender, Dowager-class Battlecruiser: SP 3876 | HP 3876
20x Tachys-class Corvettes [Combined] Corvettes: SP 3000 | HP 3000
40x Bolt-class Corvettes [Combined] Corvettes: SP 2320 | HP 2320
Total Meterage: 12,166m Total Ships: 68
"We proceed as planned," Lieutenant Zeak remarked, he adjusted his helmet. "The DOKAWs should be en route, and we need to make sure everything is ready for the switch."
Zeak led a relatively small handfull of the Redoubt's fighter pilots, he had seen it go down with his very own eyes. Zeak was aided by four others, the rest of the fighter pilots had perished either on the way to the Third Moon or at the hands of the criminals they now fought. All they needed now was access to a ship, their aim was to as many rocks here in the belt as possible. It was fortunate that one of the gunships that had been left to defend the facility had been available. Ali Pavanos, sister to the Air Marshal who had perished in the opening exchange of the battle had been the main gunner here. Quietly taking out those who would stand in their way.
McCullough, Dehaan, and V'Carv rounded out the five that were now commandeering the gunship. Carefully they would work to ensure the tags were with them, the tags were rather small but getting them out to the rocks would be a lot harder. While they could land and tag each rock one by one, they simply didn't have time. Rather they would have to modify the gunship slightly so that it fired their tags instead. While it meant that they would have to sacrifice one of the guns, for the team it was well worth it if they could complete their mission.
The token force of Sith-loyal Mandalorians that had survived the initial onslaught now found themselves approaching ever closer to battle. Coming upon Colonel [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]'s forces, they make their Sith-Mandalorian sigils known. They would go wherever it is the Colonel directed them, there hadn't been many of them and the ship that had brought them there the HIMMS Albek was subsequently scuttled deemed beyond repair. The only items these men and women had with them were their bikes, guns and the very beskar'gam that spoke of their harrowing survival. While it pained some of them to target their own. They all agreed that it had to be done, the Mandalorians they knew were too far gone they had been led away from the Manda and from the heart of the Resol'nare. Poisoned, a poison that needed to irradicated from this very world.
