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Location: Former Alliance Embassy/ Recruitment Facility Objective: Infiltration Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition | [member="Elaine Thul"] | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Veino Garn"] Allies: First Order | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Delilah Graham"] | [member="Dominic Craig"]
The assumed accent Mockingbird's companion Lotus had dropped into was difficult for even her to figure out, it made the confused smile in her direction as she spoke even more genuine. Content to nibble at the fruit, she watched the conversation continue. Even out of character Val wouldn't have thought too little of the dried fruit despite 'Garn's' dismissal of it as barely passing. She'd had her fair share of pre-prepared and freeze dried meals before - so long as it wasn't the 'Vegetarian Nogull Omelete' it might as well have been an eight course meal.
Not terribly unlike actors and actresses who subscribe to method acting, Val was an expert at the practice. It meant less frequent rotations as the operational spool up time could take weeks even months, but it also meant that typically the agent was able to pull off a much more convincing role. Having fallen into a well known legend of hers her odds of success had increased tenfold, even despite the lack of time between their instigation of the gang war in the underworld of Terminus.
As she waited for Lotus to give the man some rendition of a sob story, her eyes narrowed as the sound of a vibrant hum slowly faded as if an engine had been turned off - a moment later she noticed lights around them flicker and fade into darkness. Being where they were, there was ample light to see but deeper inside Twilight? She doubted it was nearly so. "Uh oh." Mira uttered low, her chewing coming to a stop. "That doesn't look good." Feigning a nervous glance to the sky she saw the giant wedge that was the Wrath directly where it had been before. "When did you say we were catching a ride off this rock?" she leveled the question at 'Garn'.
"Securing the Supreme Leader? This is where Neural Storm comes into play: disoriented, and maybe even victim of a seizure, it will become much easier to use their strength against them" she conferred with Tiland telepathically when he suggested that Sieger Ren should be secured and used as a bargaining chip, while she was forming up with Tiland and the others. "And they will no more see Neural Storm coming than they would a Jedi conducting an external audit"
It was only now that she realized in the Force that her first target of Neural Storm is rather disoriented. That was enough to compel her to go that route once more. After all, the Nagai touted Neural Storm as a neutral, non-lethal means of dealing with hostiles using the Force. As she made her way to her position in the original plan, she pondered the possibility of taking cover, as much as she pondered the possibility of having to change the spot where the ambush was to take place. And yet, she could feel a set of disturbances caused by the first few Jedi getting killed as well as their locations. Each death was situated close to some dark-sided signatures. The enemy has begun slaughtering the temple's occupants, but using their strength against them was the way to go since they seemed to be very powerful dark-siders attacking the temple. To those crewmembers manning the CIC, the nightmare took on a different dimension. It went beyond the deaths of a few Jedi: the engineering readouts indicated that there has been a leak in a power conduit near where those Jedi were killed.
"Power conduit leak detected!" the alarm system blared in her vicinity.
"Now we have an idea where the hostiles are, or at least, were not so long ago" she thought, transmitting to the other Jedi once more.
It seemed very tempting to cut the power to the area so afflicted but, if there were ray shields, it would also ensure that there wouldn't be any of them around the place where the ray shields were either. Here, however, she has realized the remaining dark-siders would likely mount more of a defense against mental intrusions of the nature Neural Storm offered. Yet, there was the consideration of the power she feels is necessary to penetrate those mental defenses and have their neural networks overloaded. Typically such levels of power also resulted in greater area of effect. Plus they were still rather close to one another from what she could make out. Therefore she feels that she will need careful mental aim to get group of dark-siders' neural networks to overload out of control. Just because I could pull it off against a lesser dark-sider, doesn't mean it will work on someone much more powerful, to say nothing of the Supreme Leader. I only have one shot at this since my Force-energy reserves will run mostly dry afterward, she thought, while her body shook from the many concerns she still had regarding what may as well be the highest-powered attempt at using Neural Storm up to today.
Thus before this attempt at that level of power started, she cleared her mind of conscious thought, so she could put aside any concerns she might have had over it. Now oblivious to what was happening around her, she also she started concentrating much more intensively before the blast of Force-energy would be released, because there was a lot more Force-energy involved. On top of precision aiming. So intensively, in fact, that her head may as well have a glowing yellow-white aura surrounding it that meshed with her hair. Once she has accumulated enough Force-energy, she then let the carefully-aimed energy packet loose. And, once the blast detonates near the Supreme Leader, on his back, they (Kaiah, Kyrel and, of course Sieger) will need to be quick in using their mental defenses to protect against the prospect of a Force-induced seizure. As before, should these mental defenses fail, extreme but momentary disorientation will ensue, but she knew it wasn't instant even if it did work. If it didn't work... then it would have been a huge magical gamble, which would then force her to revert to sniping from behind cover. And maybe force her enemies to simultaneously keep watch on their bodies as well as their minds, while remaining mindful of any vulnerability induced by such being short-lived.
Location: Terminus Undercity Objective: Burn Burn Burn Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Elaine Thul"] (nearby) | [member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] Enemies: The First Order - [member="Sibar Laval"] (nearby) | [member="Luther Ando"] Equipment: Expeditionary Suit, Hand Cannon, Lightsaber, Backup Sabers
TERMINUS DEPTHS
Zak waited until the flametroopers moved in close, just before they were in position to roast him out.
Hastily brewed molotov cocktails weren't as effective as well equipped First Order shock troopers, but when the deputy started lobbing his flaming projectiles he tossed with enhanced accuracy through his innate connection with the Force. The same flame retardant material within their armor plating which had saved his life would no doubt limit the damage he could do, but great flaming balls of fire were enough to send those nearest to the storefront scattering for cover at least.
"No please stop let's discuss this reasonably," the Kiffar mockingly dispensed with Jedi protocol as he tossed, his voice nowhere near loud enough to carry to anyone who could hear.
The truth was, he knew he couldn't keep this up for long. He was running out of molotovs, and when his supply dried up there would be nothing to stop the stormtroopers from finally torching the place. It would be that's all she wrote for Zak, but he was too pretty to die. He knew he had to have faith in the Force, and in Marshal Fyre. If he could just hold out against oblivion for just a little while longer...
To his amazement, it wasn't the Sparrow that saved his life after all. It was the people.
With no way of knowing to distinguish Thul mercenary between Terminus citizen, for all the deputy knew the entire wave of reinforcements was composed of gangers. Before long, the flametroopers had other things to worry about than one wounded kid in a blaster pocked shack of a local shop. Caught between a blazing ring of molotov flames and a ragtag militia, when Zak stepped out from behind cover firing from the hip he caught his hunters unaware. He cut an arc with las shots from his hand cannon, tearing apart anything or anyone unfortunate enough to stand in his way.
"Hey buckethead!" he shouted out to the leader trooper, hoping to draw Sibar's attention, "We're not done yet. I gotta hand it to you guys, you did what I couldn't. You've united the underworld."
His eyes narrowed, "All they needed was a common enemy."
In the distance, Zak could hear the tell tale sign of an engine wash he recognized, and a small grin spread onto his face.
(OOC: If any of the other Ren wish to fight me instead, vorhi #1 welcomes the challenge. I just like taunting the guy in charge, but I'm not calling dibs. Besides, there's enough of me to go around today )
Location: A combination of bad decisions.
Objective: Throw a crazy party.
Friends: [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Griet van Vliet"] with additional help from...Vorhi Alestrani?
Dancing partners: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]
Equipment: Three bodies, an empty gourd, some green stuff, and a shiny, shiny rock. Oh, and a lot of enemies, apparrently. Those are assets, too.
As Sieger Ren raised his hands to destroy yet more innocents, Vorhi Alestrani--the one with two arms, for those following at home, ran into the younglings, tackling them out of the way, lightning arcing through his skin and he pushed them. He frowned, on his knees, sooking. "Keep running," the man said. More of a boy than a man. His voice was grim. Angry. Dark. "Your life is worth more than mine."
He slowly stood up. The younger blind monk cracked his knuckles but didn't turn. "You're the so-called leader? An old man murdering padawans for giggles? How about you deal with me?"
The man awaited his elder's answer. Hopefully, he'd buy enough time. He felt a little woozy. Not part of the plan, but it'd do.
Nearby and en route.
Vorhi nodded concerning the accountant's plan. He'd never heard of "Neural Storm," but the name alone was pretty clear. Mayhem to buy time. He turned to Coren. "Time to chase them. Fight, cover for as many as we can," he said as he finished his drink. And then, he ran. Force speed to increase the movement of the body was easy. Griet giving the location to his mind's eye made it simple. Of course they'd go for the evacuees first. He just hoped his little "insurance policy" would give them time enough yet. Saving everyone wasn't possible, but saving a few was worth it.
Vorhi moved with haste, his skin reddening, his body giving off a small amount of heat. The master technique of Thok. Combined with the ichor, it would prove enough--if the strain didn't rip him apart, anyhow.
Meanwhile, in a meditation chamber that was already evacuated.
Vorhi grinned, taking a long drag of his pipe. Coren's valor was strengthening him--this was the form most needful of it. Frankly, this was the most reckless and stupidest part of the plan. Still, the man spit blood into the swirling green bowl. And then poured it over the crystal. One Vorhi had alchemized a while back. It would be used to seek dreams, and enter into the minds of the willing to train them. Of course, that was not the goal here. Neither was the rest of this patchwork array, to be honest. He could not become a nightmare to the knights of Ren--their hearts were hardened. He smiled. He was not their nightmare or their dream. He was something far more foolish. He was the many-scarred grandmaster Vorhi Alestrani. The broken Templar. He grinned as he focused, levitating. Vorhi grinned. A truly beautiful imbuement, in full. The crystal levitated. The blind monk disappeared, leaving nothing behind, and a small sash, with the following written in old Palawan on the wall:
"I survived the sundering of Corellia fifty years ago, and all I got was this lousy room."
The blast door hissed open and Kaiah dashed forward, her blade held before her wardingly. The eyes of many Jedi snapped up as they entered. Some showed no hesitation, immediately igniting their blades and moving forward, yet other remained stunned at their arrival.
Kaiah dashed forward, targeting a nearby padawan with a green blade. Being in Sieger’s presence made her feel stronger, more powerful. She ducked under the swing of Jedi’s blade, bringing her own saber down to slash at the man’s midsection. A desperate twist saw the man parry the blow but left him in no position to defend as she brought saber back around, impaling him through the armpit.
The man made no sound, only stiffened and fell. Dead. Kaiah drew blade from the corpse, pulling it up just in time to block a blow from another padawan. The Jedi backed off, suddenly wary now that she’d caught the Ren’s attention. Kaiah stalked forward, raising her blade high to strike.
She screamed as an intense agony overtook her brain. The feeling was akin to filling her head with acid, and she doubled over as the pain increased. She grunted and panicked, her animal instincts taking over. Somewhere deep inside her, carefully placed barriers were broken down and a creature of fire stirred to life.
The padawan once again moved forward, readying her blade to strike, only to leap back screaming as her Ren was engulfed in fire. Flames greedily spewed forth from beneath Kaiah’s gloves and her helmet. The draped cloth of the outfit quickly caught fire, giving the woman a cloak of fire.
The padawan fled, the hems of her clothes aflame. Kaiah, heedless of her enemy, groaned as she was assaulted by another wave of pain. She was on the verge of snapping, of giving into the beast within and burning to ash, when another presence entered her mind.
Sieger Ren’s force signature was a hard to grasp, it was a dark, slippery thing yet distinct enough to identify the man. And it echoed with waves of power as it entered her mind. The Supreme Leader called out wordlessly to her, willing the woman to add her power to his. She did so immediately, pulling heat out of her flames and transferring the energy into the man.
Together, she helped help him shape their collective wills into a weapon…
"I’d appreciate it if you could…not tell mom? Please?"
"Tell her what?" Dax said knowingly, a cheeky grin hidden behind the macabre, mouthless mask. Yeah, Dax was one of those uncles...
---
As the three figures boarded the Sparrow, Dax called for the three security droids aboard the ship. "03, 02, bandage and treat their wounds. If the ugly guy does anything sketchy, shoot him. Have them combat ready in 5. 01, stick to that yoke, and hone in on Zak's..." Dax didn't finish his sentence. The bright blooms of fire in the distance told him everything he needed to know. "Actually, just head over there..." Why did it not surprise him that Zak would be right in the thick of things? And quite possibly the cause of it...
The cargo bay, while spacious, was laden with goods that made the space seem far more claustrophobic. Weapons of all sorts, crates of who knew what (let's be honest, it's probably food) and box's taped shut, junk spilling from the seams, the hold was stuffed, aside from a small space in the center and the area directly around the seats set into the hold walls. For all the grace an beauty of the long forgotten ancient machine, it really looked like a mess inside...a nicely, haphazardly organized mess. But, this did provide the 'SIS' agent some opportunities if he so desired. Cause some havok? Maybe steal a weapon? But what could he do then? With three droids and at least one other Forcer, what would Ike do?
Location: Inner Terminus System Objective: Rocketmen Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Cathul Thuku"] Enemies: The First Order - [member="Robogeber"] |[member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Rae-Anna Ku"]
"Dorsal turrets still firing at 85% capacity! Remaining aft turret is down to 60!"
"Understood, keep it up," Atlas nodded tersely, "Focus your fire on their weapon systems, we're not here to disable them just drive them off."
"Defender Squadron is away, captain! Marine detachment will be launching momentarily."
"Make ready to give them cover," he ordered the bridge's tactical station, "we may have drawn the Empire out but they still control orbit."
"Unknown sensor contact!" the sensor station called out, "Its the Squib, sir, they're...by the lords of Kathol!"
Drake could see well enough from here what they were doing. The ancient Kumauri designed battleship was flinging massive debris clouds at the star destroyer wedge which had targeted it, he saw one launch that was the size of a heavy frigate. He marveled at the sheer tensor strength required for the battleship's heavy tractor beam arrays to perform such a feat, but then no species understood tractor technology quite like the natives of Skor II. So too did the advanced Imperial attack ships discover that the more of the Reclamation Fleet's needle ships they destroyed, the more durable the others became. All the while, they were hurtling their own trash projectiles, as well as swarming smaller corvettes and attempting to rip them apart under the sheer hull pressure of multiple industrial tractor fields pulling in different directions.
For their own part, the Kathol rearguard had tactically engaged. The Titan and Ascension had both lined up on either flank to the Utopia, and were angled enough for broadsides that they could use their aft turrets as well, save for his own ship whose aft emplacement was still nonoperational. Atlas' heart sunk like a stone every time he gave the order to fire, knowing that all this was the result of his first diplomatic negotiation with a hostile foreign power. A failure, by every account, and he could not help but feel some responsibility for the lives lost here today on both sides.
"The Potentate has taken severe damage, sir. She's drifting under the Imperial plane..."
"No she's not," Atlas leaned forward expectantly, "She's ramming herself straight down their throats, the First Order just doesn't realize it yet."
"Captain?"
"When the Potentate goes, that's a whole lot of wreckage spread out all across their lines. Close range debris, just waiting for Adegabaydee's tractor beams to wreak havoc on their entire formation."
"Hands to yer stations! Run up the colors! We're gonna have to get close enough to poke their eye, run out the starboard batteries! Club haul sublight and lay us alongside at laser shot!"
"Aye, Supreme!"
The portly Tof admiral strutted back and forth across the quarterdeck, grinning despite the intensity of the pressure in turbolaser volleys and ordnance that was being levied against his ships. He had the sun at his back which meant fair solar winds, allowing them to employ their light sails to keep pace with the faster Imperial attack vessels. It wouldn't be long before the far clipper went down, but the Supreme had been counting on his weaker probe to fail. The doomed assault on the Empire's starboard flank had drawn enough fire away to keep his port thrust alive, and now they were ready to close around the Sixth Fleet like a vice, attempting to drive them either away from orbit or straight into the awaiting All Flags battlelines.
"Stand fast until they're near enough! Close to amidships!"
A glancing wave of turbolaser fire gouged out one of the self-contained gunnery emplacements, cold vacuum devouring screaming Tof crewman into nothingness, and then the emergency bulkheads sealed.
"Steady! Hold yer positions!"
The Supreme raised his hand, waiting until as many of the Imperial pack hunters were within their broadsides' arc of fire before he gave the order.
"Fire!"
Massive gouts of glowing, superheated ooze erupted from all along the bulk cruiser's side, splattering upon impact and threatening to overwhelm shield systems and burn straight through chunks of starship hull. The Supreme's remaining light clipper joined in soon after. Marauder cruiser and hunter-killer corvette alike would taste the fury of the exotic Fotia's Fire bursts, and any smaller attack craft that attempted to approach would be driven off with the vessel's many chase gun laser cannons.
"Launch power harpoons and activate tractor beams! Prepare the raiding parties!"
The Tof's grin only turned more bloodthirsty. It wasn't a real battle unless his men got the opportunity to run their blades through some terrified Imperial crewmen.
Master Gnost-Joral was aware the moment his subordinates detected the power draw from deep within the Star Temple's bowels. With no way to directly sever the flow of electricity to [member="Sieger Ren"], the Kel'Dor instead telepathically directed his fellow Jedi navigators to reroute critical systems away from that section so it would not limit the Light's ability to contribute to battle, and contribute it did. Heavy turbolaser batteries could be found all along the battlecruiser's three hundred and sixty degree frame, giving it a near perfect field of fire rivaled only by the famed Hapan Battle Dragons.
Angled onto its side now so that the charging main cannon had a clear line of fire on its target, those heavy turbolasers were able to fire in full upon the Sixth Fleet, at the sacrifice of exposing its hull as a much broader target for Imperial gunners. The Wrath was protected, of course, by a wedge formation of star destroyers currently engaged with the Squib's Kumauri battleship. There was not enough time for Gnost-Joral and his fellow Jedi to find the perfect shatterpoint in their formation, so instead they waited until after a particularly nasty return volley of space debris from the Cal-class, and with a single mental command the Jedi collectively activated the Shield of Light's proton beam cannon intent on to boring a hole straight through the star dreadnought's destroyer escorts.
"Go with the Force," the Kel'Dor said a quiet prayer for the Imperial lives his actions were about to take, "May the light of justice purify your spirits in death."
Squib Reclamation Fleet
Cal-class Battleship has lost shields, taken moderate hull damage.
8 Needle Ships destroyed, remaining ships' defenses strengthened by additional debris fields. Needle Ships attempt to hurl trash into concentrated fields that will break up attack ship and fighter screen formations.
Leviathan and Cal-class have launched mass needle fighters to counter fighter screens and harry capital ships.
Cal-class begins flinging massive debris clouds at a high velocity focused on targeting star destroyer cluster with its tractor beams. Kathol Navy
Star Dragon Destroyers utilize their precision heavy beam cannons to focus on disabling as many emplacements as they can on aggressing First Order attack cruisers.
Majestic-class Cruisers fire on Sixth Fleet's Menace Squadron, including a wide spread of assault concussion missiles across their formation.
Marauder Corvette packs begin counter-hunting Artemis Squadron attack ships. Defender II Starfighters launched. Wave of dropships bearing Kathol Marines en route to the surface. Tof Kingdom
Royal-class Light Clipper is destroyed. Remaining Tof ships have lost shields.
Prince-class Bulk Cruiser and surviving Light Clipper fire a devastating broadside of Fotia's Fire plasma cannons at pursuing attack cruisers and hunter-killers, eradicating any fighter presence from either flank with focused laser cannon volleys.
Remaining Tof vessels use their dropship complement to launch mass boarding parties. Qektoth Confederation
1 Ascendant-class Frigate and 1 Bishop Heavy Cruiser destroyed. Remaining Frigate suffering critical hull damage, lost navigation control. Remaining Bishop without shields, superficial hull damage.
Both remaining ships switch to bio-plasmatic gel torpedoes on molecularly shielded Predators, attempting to burn through the deflector screens.
One by one Sibar's men started to fall. At this point 30 of the 40 men in Sibar's platoon remained, the other 10 having died from the resisters. Sibar was getting constant info from his troops of a large militia that had gathered in the Underworld in an attempt to push the First Order out. They were certainly overwhelmed and Sibar was almost ready to call it quits and fall back to the Wrath before he received a second transmission from someone he didn't reconize.
"Major Laval? This is Sergeant Gild. We have arrived as per your request for walker support."
Sibar smiled, noticing the three AT-AW's walking closer in the distance. "Sergeant Gild, wonderful to have you. We have a militia closing in on our position, we would be grateful if you could help in fending them off. Oh, and also do try to destroy as much property as possible while your at it. Time for a real message." Sergeant Gild gave an 'Affirmative' over the comms and the three walkers sought to fend off any enemy troops they encountered, using their heavier weapons to destroy buildings in the process.
Location: Aboard The Sparrow
Objective: Help reinforce Zak’s position
Enemies: FO
Engaging: [member="Luther Ando"] [Ike Parker] | [member="Dax Fyre"]
Nearby FO: [member="Sibar Laval"]
Nearby ORC: [member="Zak Amroth"] | [member="Elaine Thul"]
The Sparrow was reminiscent of her own ship, The Mariposa for its…organization. Yula had gutted much of the unneeded appliances in favor of more cargo space. She’d probably broken more than a few safety regulations in doing so (as the pile of citations under the console would insist), but that was the life of a smuggler.
“Thanks, Oh-Three.” The droid was busy applying batca patches followed by a swath of gauze to her injured arm, tisking in reprimand. Yula winced at the cool, tingling sensation of the healing gel on her burns. “You know who my ma’ is but don’t know she’s a Forcer?” She had to quirk a brow at that. Granted, they were talking about her Force status, but she figured that he would have had that on his radar at least. “Man, you must’ve fallen asleep in SIS school.”
The droid moved on to tend to the scrapes on her forehead, casually picking out the bits of trash in her hair as it went. “I mean, I guess she does more business stuff nowadays. But she used to fight for the ‘Rim a lot. Even taught Uncle Dax here how to make fire, and not just with a piece of flint and some tinder.” Yula grinned widely at the agent, sidestepping the droid to dig through one of the crates. After a few moments of rooting around, she managed to retrieve a mostly put-together set of armor, recognizing her mother’s brand. It didn’t offer worlds of protection, but it helped to dissipate blaster bolts and let her keep her mobility.
“What’s your name, anyhow? Or do you want me to keep calling you Mr. Agent, 'cause I can do that.” She clipped the saber hilt to her belt, prying open another crate in search of a blade or a blaster. "Or Mr. Spy, if you like that one better."
Sabotage had been achieved, and he had stirred the hornets nest. He could feel the ground reverberating, as the explosions engulfed further generators. Hopefully, the damage would keep the enemy in the dark for a while, but it would not see the end of him. No. Craig knew that the storm was coming, he could feel it, and hear it. The rushed clanks of boots upon metal, and concrete, as they rushed down the maintenance corridors. Given his estimates, there could be an entire battalion here, and if one took into account the platoon or two needed to secure the perimeter, that was a lot of pissed off soldiers coming right after him. So of course, he would need to improvise. They had the advantage, the routes, the data, and experience of this facility, and as such would know when, and where to corner him. Improvisation, at this point was key.
Dominic moved through the corridors, quickly, stopping only at a tool closet, and thrusting the doors open, looking for something he could perhaps use. Drill, no. Hydrospanner, no. Data driver, no. Commlink? Commlink. That would be useful. Already the fragments of a plan were coming into play, but he needed to even the odds. Reaching into one of the ammo holders, Dominic cleaved out two of the sedatives he'd been given, and slid a little opening along his neck. He injected the painkillers swiftly, into his jugular, and felt the soothing mellow of numbness coming over him. A moment of elation, and nirvana passed, before the FOSB man strode quickly toward the point where the forward element of Sol Stazi's containment unit. As the frantic footsteps of the troopers grew louder, Dominic slid onto a corner, rifle in hand.
As the first trooper, armed with night vision goggles turned the corner saw him, the ex-stormtrooper acted. A rifle butt slammed into the mans face, sending him sprawling to the ground. The other two with him opened fire, the armour did a little to help, but Dominic felt himself be hit twice. But, under the effective of the medication, they felt more like slaps to his tender flesh. Dominic then reached out, and snagged the fallen soldier, and pulled him back up, quickly pulling the still bewildered Twi'lek to his feet. "You don't wanna do this!" Dominic growled, as he held the soldier before him, gripping tightly on his lekku, rifle now firmly planted against his hip, and jabbing into the hostage's back. "You shoot me, you all die!"
By now, Dominic could see fresh oncoming meat, including the Duros he had been searched by earlier. His hostage called out, "Captain Stazi! Help!" Dominic pulled back harder on the tender flesh, filled with vulnerable nerves, "He-!" The hostage screamed, writhing beneath the FOSB officer's brutal handling. Craig did not of course relent beneath these protestations, and instead, jabbed harder with the rifle, until his captive settled.
"Now," Dominic began, his eyes circling over the group, "If I can have your attention, I want to tell you something. You shoot me, right here and right now, we all die." Craig informed the group. It was of course a bluff, but, he played a very convincing desparado, if he didn't mind saying so himself. It was an old trick, "I am scheduled to report to my handlers, in approximately five minutes." He paused, and eyed the group, their weapons still trained him, "If I don't, then you've killed yourselves, because they'll authorise the deployment of an entire stormtrooper battalion to this location." He paused, licking his lips, "And when they find your little Alderaanian buddies, on First Order territory, playing soldier here, then they'll wipe you out." His attentions turned to Stazi, "Maybe you deep six a few of them, but we've got the time, energy and manpower to kill you, and everyone here."
The Twi'lek grew defiant, and began to snarl, "Don't listen to him Captain, kill the bast-!" Dominic's boot slammed into the back of the Twilight Company soldier, sending him to the ground, writhing in pain. The iron clasp Dominic held on his nerve filled leeku, didn't let up, nearly tearing the ligament from the back of his head. The alien let out a pained scream, tears pouring down his cheeks, and his body, now slick with sweat and tears. Dominic's rifle was now aimed at the youthful soldiers head, ready to blast his brains out.
"Shut your karking mouth, you rattailed kark!" Dominic snapped, before nodding his head at Stazi, "Tell your man to quit whining like an echuta and take it like a man." He snarled, voice filled with venom, he allowed a beat to pass, before continuing, "Now, here's what happens." It was time he proposed a plan. Not an amazing one. But more so a play for time. Who knew if the Bureau had sent any other assets, but hopefully they could take some of this heat off, "You let me go," he proposed, "And I don't report that you and your friends here are terrorists." he paused, letting the offer sink in, "I give you a headstart, and tell my bosses, that this place is innocuous. You're just some settlers squatting here till the chaos ends,." He then allowed another pause, "You then slip by, leave your things, and never worry about being here, or with me again." He then allowed a little laugh, "By my count, we've got another two, maybe three minutes till I have to make my call," He continued, "And then, possibly five minutes till the first wave of stormtroopers arrive." His eyes locked with the Captain's from behind his helm, "Decision is all yours my friend."
The Grand Admiral's expression remained taut as he watched the developing battle. The Outer Rim Coalitions' penchant for more irregular warfare certainly was something which remained the same, but like any child, they were being brought to heel. The droid glowered as he watched the developments closely. The Therapy Command charge of fighters and bombers, fell upon the wall of anti-fighter corvettes and TIE fighters in reserve. It was a desperate ploy, one which surely showed a lack of tact all too familiar from his opponents.. But, seemingly the situation was correcting itself now. The Potentate had been crippled, surely, it was but a distraction. Now, the battle would turn in his favour, and he would.
The explosion rocked the Pellaeon. The bridge shook, as its hull was slammed by the the dying breathes of the vessel. "Report!" The Grand Admiral thundered, as the dreadnaught steadied herself. The shaking now subsiding. The vessel resumed its withering barrage of Therapy Commands fleet, as it slowly meandered downwards. How could he have been so blind to the manouvere. It sat there, looking at him, and he missed it.
The Chief Engineering Officer leered over his console, gazing down and "Sir, shields took a massive hit, and absorbed most of the blast." The Engineer reported, "Quadrants, secondary troop garrison and hangar three took most of the blast." Rausgeber's look soured. He could already estimate the casualties, and they weren't good. As if on cue, the Officer continued, "No estimate on casualties sir, we'll probably see once the damage clears."
"We continue." Rausgeber glowered, now moving from his command post, and to the wider bridge, "Concentrate all fire on that vessel," he gestured to the Squib flagship, as it lobbed more debris at the Wrath. "Destroy it and demolish their command." The Imperator commanded, "Have Admiral Korsine engage at point blank range." He added, "We will crush the insufferable." The droid then looked at the bomber display, "All squadrons are weapons free, and engage," He glowered, "All squadrons choose their own targets, and demolish whomever stands against us."
The TIE bombers, which had withdrawn to the rear, now returned, with a cackling vengeance. Linking up with the TIE's, fresh from disabling Therapy Command's offensive, the bombers split off. The TIE demolisher squads, the First Order's elite capitol bombers, targeted the Tof Pirate fleet, aiming to crush and destroy their cruisers before they could fully engage. One of the Vanguard cruisers however, became ensnared, and as the pirates came close, it detonated. The fear of Asharad Graush's wrath, ensnaring the crew of the Ardent Defence, as they executed his doctrine. Destroying the vessel by detonating her reactor as she tried to ram one of her captors.
TIE Assailants, sensing an opportunity launched themselves at the Kathol Navy, their bombs primed as four squadrons attempted to run a proton torpedo barrage at the Utopia's large, unweildly batteries. More squadrons moved to attack and destroy the squib command vessel, performing a long, and around about swing, before pressing forward toward the engines, and targetting her there. Trying to halt the largest vessel currently in position. The battle, was now at a critical stage as Rausgeber could see. It seemed that perhaps he and his opponents were a little closer matched than he would like to have thought.
Galactic Alliance Embassy
Objective: Infiltrate
Allies: [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | The FIrst Order
Enemies: [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Veino Garn"] | [member="Elaine Thul"]
"You're just gonna lemme keep it?" Isobel asked as she accepted the rusty old blaster back from the man. Her eyebrows raised slightly. "It weren't meant literally-like," she told Veino incredulously. "Just meant it were real old. Still works, though, which is why I thought you'd wanna take't from me. But if you're sure." She put the blaster back over her shoulder with its fraying shoulder strap.
"As for m'sob story. Frankly it's a bit much. I'm sure you people hear it all t'time. Parents was poor and made lots of bad choices. Me mam died ages ago, me dad got 'imself in trouble with one o' the local gangs, got himself killed like a damn fool. I weren't no better. Drugs and booze and all sorts. But I'm tired of it, right? Crummy hovels 'n blowin' all me creds on drugs. n' doin' nothin' with m'life, right?"
She made a dismissive gesture as if waving away her past. "First Order ain't m'style. Hopin' to bloody their noses, right? Get my life together at the same time. I'm sure I'm not a model citizen, but I've got some skills, ain't I? I'm tough and I'm ready to fight." She inclined her head, her jaw defiant. "Plus I've got t'gun, ain't I? Don't even need to get kitted out."
Location: Old Embassy Complex Objective: Take the Shot Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Captain August "]| [member="Veino Garn"] Enemies: The First Order - [member="Dominic Craig"] (nearby) | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Val Kordova"] Equipment: Blast Vest, A320 Rifle, SSK-7 Heavy Blaster, Alliance Adjudicator, Vibroknife
SUBLEVELS
EMBASSY COMPLEX
Sol smiled.
"Now that's the first good news I've heard all day," the duros captain let out a venemous laugh, "You think we're still trying to win? Look around, boy. We're more ghosts than people. All we wanna do now is make you bleed. You hear that fellas? Imperial sons! Imperial daughters! As much as we can eat."
Despite his words of bravado, he motioned for the others to stand there ground for now with a simple hand signal. Nevertheless, each kept their rifle trained on the Imperial saboteur and his hostage.
"You alright, Dash?" Sol called out. The Twi'lek started to reply, only for a swift boot to be delivered by the hostile agent that sent him sagging down towards the floor.
The Imperial continued to negotiate, continued to threaten. Implored him to allow him access to the base's transmitter, the one place it was still possible to get a signal out, but Captain Stazi was only pretending to listen. He was examining his surroundings, examining his options really. There was nowhere left for the Imperial to go, he was trapped between his fireteam, the Thuls, and [member="Veino Garn"] along with the rest of Twilight patrolling the perimeter. But there was no telling how much more damage he could do if Sol didn't taken decisive action, what planted devices the agent could trigger if allowed to escape to a safe location.
"You have a shot, Eyes?" he called out to the fireteam's Gran sniper.
"Negative," the sharpshooter answered in his species' guttural language.
"I do," Sol closed his eyes and sighed, before calling out to the Imperial agent, "You know what your mistake was? Underestimating our resolve."
He locked eyes with Dash for a moment, a flash of understanding between the two, and the Twi'lek closed his eyes. A feeling of peace lapsed across his anguished expression.
Stazi took the shot, las bolt striking his fellow soldier dead between the eyes. A smoking corpse slumped in his enemy's hands.
"Take him," Sol called out to the others, before moving in along with a hulking Klatooinian private, their vibroknives drawn, "Lets see how much more he knows about this so called battalion of Sieger's Finest."
Eyes held back, keeping his rifle trained on the agent, ready to deliver a wounding shot should he put his blaster to further use.
Sieger's eyes were wreathed in amber flame as the tendrils of electricity coursed towards their intended target - and then in an instant they had been saved the high voltage assault by the Supreme Leader. The man had not been so lucky, the cascade of electric both created and amplified by the Force and Sieger's own connection to the power grid finding purchase as the man hit the ground. Sieger too could feel the insurmountable rush of the electic charge coursing in, around, and through his body. Empowered by it, fueled by hatred and malice long suppressed. As the man rose to his knees Sieger didn't let the man but barely open his mouth before renewing the voltaic onslaught.
This time Sieger had momentarily held the malevolent energy within his body, dark rings beginning to form around his eyes - blackened veins pulsing. In one massive violent burst he released it, the cackling energy of the electrical current channeled from the ship's own power system amplified by the tsunami of power drawn from the darkness. Aimed at the man's unsteady feet, the electrical blast would be enormous. Enough to throw a man across a chamber or in this case, a corridor. Even as the energy released from his mortal form, he could feel a pressure bearing down upon his mind. A twitch of his finger indicated something amiss, a twitch of the eye confirmation. *Someone is making a mistake.*
The pain was always there, always present and so it had escaped his grasp at first but as time drew on he began to notice the subtle differences of this to the ever present torment. Pain came not from within but was being applied from without. An attack on the man's senses, an attack on his cadre. It could not go unaddressed. So it was that Sieger fought back against the pain and instead reached out to those Ren around him, minds drawn closer together in the darkness of the Force, wrapped and protected in each other. What had been intended for the Supreme Leader and his Knights of Ren now instead found itself directed back at the source. Unfortunately for their assailant they would soon find their attack not only returning but amplified by the collective wills of Sieger and his Knights in one colossal charge. The neural storm about to engulf Griet could not be understated.
Letting go of the conduit with one hand as the metaphysical attack came to a close, Sieger once more found a grip on his saber's hilt, the ignited crimson basking his features in a sapphire glow - but they weren't his features. Whether by result of tapping directly into the ship's power system or by the sheer magnitude of the electrical interference, Sieger's well recognizable features began to melt away, shimmering and twisting until the facade fell completely. Staring back at the man who'd sacrificed himself on account of the padawans, Sieger stood menacingly, blade in hand. He would give no respite. No quarter. With a roar he bounded forward with inhuman speed, intent on striking down the monk with a downward slash.
Location: transitioning from Embassy to Underground gang warzone
Allies: ORC [member="Zak Amroth"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Yula Perl"]
Enemies: [member="Sibar Laval"] [member="Luther Ando"]
Equipment: Dueling Armour, Lightsaber
Followers: Five Housecarl, Five Scouts, Platoon of Infantry, company of Militia, and about 40 gangers who don't like FO for burning them out.
She head down into the underground, the scouts where leading her way. The others spread out to find the enemy, and engage as they saw fit. She soon got word, they had found the pyromaniacs, they had brought support with them. They where a armoured walker of some sort, though they would be at some disadvantage being underground, and they where is ten meters tall. So their movement would be restricted, as scouts sound him they took concealed positions. Her housecarls kept back for the moment out of range, as she came forward to meet Major Fire Hazard. She stood alone facing him, he was nothing more than stormtrooper with flamethrower.
AS she called out to him, and his men. No doubt she was about to be targeted by them. This world does not want you, they don't want order imposed that destroys there liberties. So I ask gracefully, that you pack up and go away. As she spoke, she was also starting to concentrate on his flamethrower, she was going to crush the fuel tank, the second he pointed at her. She was going give him chance to walk away. Though she was not a fool to give him a chance to hurt her, so if the weapon pointed at her she was going to crush it and let him set fire to himself. She could feel the flaws in the durasteel casing, and was ready to reach out crush it like tin can.
Location: Terminus system
Objective: Pew-pew from below
Allies: ORC [member="Atlas Drake"]
Enemies: FO [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Robogeber"]
Music: BMT
"The enemy is focusing fire on the Squibs and the Qektoth, not much against us; they seem to be firing without a focus" the sensor technician reported, while looking at a tactical console.
"Good: they shall pay for their lack of three-dimensional vision!"
Even though the remaining fire that was still directed at Therapy Command was rather erratic, the Potentate's captain shunted all the power that was hitherto assigned to the weapons systems to the engines. This meant they were no longer drifting, but it was a hulk that couldn't fire at anything anymore. In short, firepower-killed. It then attempted to reach a speed as high as it could achieve given the available power, while also pulling up slightly so as to be above the enemy plane if it was even feasible. Given these considerations, it ended up being in some triangle that had the largest three enemy ships as vertices when it finally gave out, and burst in a mountain of debris whose size dwarfed even the Ardent Defence, to say nothing of what the Squibs kept throwing. As has been the case on Skor, an explosive-lined hull would project debris at a higher speed than in a normal ship destruction, so the potential for damage was much higher than with the Ardent Defence. Upon explosion, it projected high-speed debris of sizes ranging from a blaster rifle to even a Blitz for the largest of them. So the enemy would be traversing a cloud of high-speed debris that would be threatening hardpoints on their dorsal arc, and, depending on where they were on the plane relative to the Potentate, forward or aft arc, too. Ramming straight down the enemy throats? That was, figuratively speaking, what was happening here. Nevertheless, there wasn't that much fire left after the Potentate was accounted for, since Therapy Command was still below the enemy plane. Plus the enemy engaging the Squibs at point-blank meant that Therapy Command now had a rather clear shot at the enemy's exposed underside.
"Something's not right: why is it that Cyrus isn't even trying to engage us anymore?" Tanith asked, realizing that Cyrus made no further attempt at fighting the Squibs, nor Therapy Command.
"Fire at will!"
Even though the rest of the fleet only sustained some shield damage since the enemy had limited firepower (unguided anyway) on their ventral arc, the enemy losses were sufficient that she couldn't simply order repeat. The Squibs were in danger and, perhaps firing at the enemy from straight down would force them to reconsider firing at the Polyanarchy's forces and dive to engage Therapy Command from above, even if it meant doing so from behind. And being vulnerable to the Qektoth and Tof. So, once again, Therapy Command was firing at the Sixth Fleet from below, with each shot of a weapon, ranging from these rapid-fire turbolasers to the heaviest of long-range HVCs, being an opportunity to make them pay for their mistake. The enemy made their two-dimensional bed, they shall sleep in it. And they are in for a world of hurt, too, especially since they were unwilling (or maybe unable) to maneuver on the vertical axis; that forced the enemy to focus on other elements. Therapy Command would then make sure to exploit this state of affairs that left the enemy vulnerable. Any hostile ship two kilometers and smaller was liable for being fired at, as intensively as was possible from below. Escorts, frigates, cruisers, and even the Menace: none were safe. Speaking of which, the fire directed at it was mostly concentrated at a few exposed spots: the reactor dome and the underside hangar.
"We must use our fighters to support the Tof's attempts to board the enemy ships!" she ordered before the FLEETCOM channel would be active. "Therapy Command will reinforce the fighter screen"
"We're taking losses: we can't simply keep up the pressure here!" a fighter pilot reported in, before getting hit. "I'm hit!"
"Fighter squadrons, protect the fleet! If you get hit to the hull, ram onto the nearest hostile ship if possible"
Yes, it was true that Therapy Command did, in fact, take losses while acting as a screen for the Squib needle ships, and hitting some flak ships in the first pass. She knew their use, and, if the Squibs were to use the debris from the Potentate against the First Order, Therapy Command needed them alive. But here, supporting the Squibs and the Tofs meant that they needed to use the remaining fighters to screen against enemy craft, such as fighters, bombers and the like. To protect dropships as they are being launched at Imperial ships. The First Order bombers trying to attack the Squibs, Tofs and Qektoth elements of the All Flags Armada would be entering a veritable hornet nest made up of not only the needle fighters, but Defender-IIs as well. They will be relentlessly pursued and engaged, and not simply to ensure that needle ships would survive, or even the Tofs' boarding parties. But unlike the first pass, there were larger enemy ships that were on the receiving end of a fighter that got hit and rammed into it with a heavy proton bomb detonating upon impact. Even the Apex or the Pellaeon may have received an impact of such fighters. But the torpedo bombers kept launching energy torpedoes at Halberds in an attempt to harass them from beyond standard turbolaser range, just not all at once.
Location: A combination of bad decisions.
Objective: It's a crazy party, let's all crash it at once.
Friends: [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Griet van Vliet"] with additional help from...Vorhi Alestrani?
Dancing partners: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]
Equipment: Two and a half bodies, an empty gourd, some green stuff, and a shiny, shiny rock. Oh, and a lot of enemies, apparrently. Those are assets, too.
[youtube]https://youtu.be/z_rBGCab2ak[/youtube]
At the Ren Faire
The Vorhi grinned as lightning arced through him. And then, the blind monk leapt, being pushed back into the blast door by the sheer force of his opponent's power, landing on it and rebounding with a grin. "YEEEEES!!!" A hand outstretched, aiming to deliver a punch. Char marks and blisters were on the monks skin--scars earned in valor. The blind man seemed almost rapturous. Anyone near could sense and see the physical pain, but his inner pain--some sort of inner beast--seems to enjoy this. He seemed to be happy, knowing full well this could kill him. As if he welcomed the death. welcomed the suffering. He charged towards Sieger, the force flowing through his body, allowing it to still move as the lightning ravaged it.
Coming at you
The Vorhi present with the others charged around a corner, the sound of battle gaining. One of three wouldn't be enough. There are four, the blind monk instructed his allies. the one who looks like me is attacking their apparrent leader. I'll explain later, the blind monk mused, a final bit of telepathic knowledge as he turn the corner to see them. He was grinning. "I do hope you're having fun....." he said to them. He only needed to distract one of them. They all sought to feed Seiger, but a distraction could prove enough. It's not like his other could fight the master of Ren alone, regardless. Hee he held up one hand, waving as if this was a tea ceremony and not a fight. "Who's on first?"
Spookily Bringing up the Rear
Just out of view of the battle, a small orb hovered. Green crystal. Sealed. Hovering. Watching. Waiting. It's presence in the force was minimal compared to the other two Vorhis, but it was still noticeable to those paying attention. Bring up the rear, distract the enemies. Easy enough. A simple task for a simple ploy--dreaming. But could the living dream as beautifully as the dead? It remained to be seen.
Location: Terminus Undercity Objective: Rise Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Elaine Thul"] | [member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] Enemies: The First Order - [member="Sibar Laval"] | [member="Luther Ando"] Equipment: Expeditionary Suit, Hand Cannon, Lightsaber, Backup Sabers
TERMINUS DEPTHS
An ivory gauntleted fist crashed against his jaw, sending blood spewing and teeth flying.
With a savage roar of defiance, Zak lashed out with his stolen Imperial stun baton, electrocuting the offending stormtrooper into unconsciousness. Still stunned from what had been a haymaker of a blow, the Outer Rim deputy stumbled through a press of struggling bodies. More underworld gangs had tentatively started flooding into the square, some meant unfortunate grisly ends at the hands of flametrooper squads but soon any semblance off battle lines had broken down so much that the flamers could not be activated in many places for risk of roasting fellow Imperials.
He struggled towards the stormtrooper officer he had confronted before, desperate to conclude their struggle on a more victorious note, but he was quickly confronted by another pair of troopers. Dodging a carbine blast at close range with his uncanny acrobatics, the Kiffar flung his stun baton like a throwing knife, its electrified tip striking the trooper at center mass on the moment of contact. Leaping over the incapacitated soldier, he launched and diving punch at the second that battered aside his defenses, leaving him exposed for the follow through uppercut that knocked the man cold for all the enhanced force Zak put behind it.
"Walker!" he heard one of the street thugs scream, "Scatter!"
Before Amroth knew what was happening, their numerical advantage ebbed like receding tide. They had bloodied the Imperials, but many more times their number in Terminus natives had already fallen, entire buildings demolished in the pacification squad's destructive wake. The undercity all around him now resembled something out a nightmare, and in the distance he could now spot three terrifying mechanical silhouettes emerging from the smoke kicked up by flamers and heavy ordinance. The lead walker started to fire, and suddenly the shop he had holed up in was vaporized, its shockwave sending him hurtling forward onto his face as superheated chunks of duracrete came crashing down all around him.
"No..." he moaned into the rubble, "We're so close."
Zak struggled back to his feet, dimly aware on some level that he was already suffering the effects of a major concussion.
"Resist..." he managed, looking around pleadingly, but most of the gangers were already gone, "Resist!"
He started to move forward. Stormtroopers were beginning to reorganize, falling back to rendezvous points and dragging their wounded back for emergency triage. He picked up a fallen blaster, and started firing wildly, sending Imperials dashing for cover. It was a suicidal move, in a matter of moments they would organize and set up an enfilade of fire that'd cut him down no matter what kind of fancy acrobatics he tried to pull. Zak didn't care, he started shooting at the lead walker, letting out his frustration in a war cry of defiance. The low power blaster bolts pinged harmlessly off the armored vehicle, which angled its turrets to track his position in response.
Then another flurry of bolts struck the earth right by the walker's feet, only these left behind larger craters. The deputy looked down at his blaster in stupefied amazement, before the Sparrow streaked by overhead, letting loose another strafing barrage from its laser cannons that sent a stream of rubble raining down over the walkers position. Zak couldn't see if it had done any appreciable damage, his dulled mind was just piecing together it was [member="Dax Fyre"] who had actually been the cause of such devastation, but he did realize that for a brief moment no one was shooting at him.
Now would be a perfect time to make his escape, so naturally Amroth drew his lightsaber and charged, heading straight for the legs of the nearest AT-AW.
‘This situation doesn’t seem…tenable’ he thought. “Yeah, no kidding?” he muttered. Trapped on the enemy’s ship with a flimsy cover and no weapons. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was pretty sure the others were more than suspicious of him. ‘I’ve been in worse situations’ he thought. ‘But not much worse’.
“What constitutes something sketchy?” Ike asked, but neither of the Jedi nor the droids deigned to answer. He let out a sigh and moved to sit on one of the crates in the cargo hold, watching as Yula was patched up by one of the droids. She turned, speaking to him. Ike’s frown deepened. She had a very glib tongue for someone who was kidnapped by gangsters not that long ago. Did the woman even realise the danger she had been in?
“I don’t make a habit of remembering every single forcer I read about” Ike grumbled, not having to feign the grumpiness in his voice. “It’s a miracle I remembered your Ma at all”. The Zeltron gave him a funny grin before donning her armour. As she continued talking, Ike slouched down into a more comfortable position on the crates. “My name is Ike Carter” he said, giving his usual alias. “Mr Agent is my father, and only my friends call me Mr Spy”.
Ike stretched, wincing at the tenderness of his shoulder. Yula had done a good job, but it would only go so far. His aim would be off for a while, judging by the stiffness of the joint. “Not that we can’t be friends. I know we started off on the wrong foot but-”. He was interrupted as the thud thud of the ship’s weapons reverberated through the ship.
Ike rose from his position and rushed to the window. It was hard to navigate while the ship was moving but he somehow managed to stumble over and peer through the glass. What he saw made him sick. Most of the district below him was on fire. Giant walkers paced in an almost slumberous way as they destroyed buildings below. It was a mess of death and destruction.
‘The Order burned down the hideout, I should have guessed that was a part of something bigger’ he thought. He’d done some awful things as a part of the Order, but for the first time he was questioning their methods. He knew this was a problematic area, but was this the best path? He shook his head, trying to clear the near treasonous thoughts from his head. Ethical conundrums aside, one thing was very clear.
“I’ve not going into that” Ike said, turning to face Yula. “You can think what you want about me, but that’s suicide”. This was probably not the best tactic to take right now, but Ike didn’t fancy his chances of entering the inferno, especially dressed as a gangster.
Hopefully the others will use this opportunity to attack, Griet thought, while Vorhi began attacking. She was hoping the attack would be joined by someone other than Vorhi, such as Coren, Tiland or Kahne. Yet she remained in position to attempt to fire at any remaining Ren. She kept a close watch for their movements, for any indication that they were hit or that they attempted to defend against it. Yes, she knew about the possibility of the opponents putting up a defense. But she could feel that part of the reason behind the Supreme Leader draining some energy from his allies was, in fact, to defend against Neural Storm. So that, even in failure, that failure wasn't total, not by any stretch. Forcing the opponent to keep a watch on both physical and mental would force them to fight differently. And yet, the few instants before the so-called amplification would hit her were a few seconds of proverbial calm. Reflecting a mental attack back to her at an amplification had a two-pronged energy cost on the defender: the first part was for reflecting, and the second part was for the amplification. What was there to amplify, though? It was only part of the full power since at least one of the others was hit. So when the counterattack came, it was then that she used whatever Force-energy she had left to defend against it. Knowing that it was directed back at her as a single-target attack, she focused as hard as she could to absorb the incoming storm. For a few seconds, she held fast, thanks to Force Valor as used by Coren, but she began to falter with each second spent absorbing the storm.
Then the poodoo-storm started in her head when her Force-powered mental defenses failed. It was then that she was subjected to Neural Storm for the first time: her brain became hyperactive as soon as that occurred. As the reality of such began to sink in, the corridor she was in began to feel like it was moving. Not only she began to see multiple corridors where there previously was only one of them, she also began to see images of Ren walking those phantom corridors, approaching towards her. As tempted as she was to try drawing that massive Umbaran EM plasma sniper rifle, so that she could fire at those Ren and later run, she was feeling painful levels of numbness that prevented her from doing just that. If that wasn't enough, she was also feeling her brain burning her head from the inside out as that Force-induced level of neural activity was not subsiding. As a result, her headaches became more and more debilitating and her mind snapped right when it became too much for her. Everything went dark in her mind and then she collapsed, falling flat on her face while she was collapsing on the cold, hard floor as a result. The equally cold, hard truth became clear to any bystander around her, if there were any: she just fell prey to the consequences of Neural Storm, and severe ones at that. She just suffered a seizure severe enough to make her lose consciousness.
)
