Rock 'em, Sock 'em [Rebel raid of Haor Chall Engineering]

[Geneviève Lasedri]

[[OOC: This is a hit-and-run strike by the Rebel Alliance on the factories of Haor Chall Engineering, located on the Republic world of Charros IV. This raid has no effect on the map whatsoever. The attack has been cleared by Haor Chall's owner, [member="Marek Starchaser"].

Haor Chall is currently an IC supplier of weapons technology for the CIS, therefore this is an indirect attack on the Confederacy and not an attack on the Republic. That being said, limited Republic players are welcome, but please PM before joining. CIS players, please consult your leader [member="Salem Norongachi"] for direction and then jump in.

If you have an issue with a post made by an opponent your character has engaged, please PM the writer and do not post until you have politely settled the issue. Be nice and have fun. ]]

Rebel Alliance objective:
Marines: Infiltrate Haor Chall's factories and steal weapons, preferably starfighters. Disable Haor Chall's Anti-Air guns.
Rogue Squadron: Provide air support.
At all costs, avoid harming civilian and Republic persons/property.

CIS objective:
Repel the attack.


By no means was this a practice run. With the Confederacy on high alert and digging their heels in, it would be no surprise if they had bulked up on defenses surrounding one of their prime military manufacturers. Also, the Rebels would have to be extra careful to avoid disrupting the Republic's peace here, as they were not the enemy by the Alliance's standard. It may be like threading a needle, but that was nothing new for the Benefactor. She had been secretly organizing an insurrectionist force on Coruscant for months now, alongside the reclamation faction.

This raid would be the Alliance's first true action, attempting to make an impression with the CIS and stall their weapons manufacturing. The Alliance also needed ships, and Lasedri had her eye on the Sewing Needles in particular. If they could snag a few, the mission could be quite the success. But were Geneviève's forces too green to succeed? She had complete faith in their capabilities, but only to a reasonable capacity. Hopefully, nothing too bad would happen out there...

From her seat in the war room in the far-away Rebel base, the Benefactor signaled across the lightyears to the awaiting assailants that the light was green for 'go'. May the Force be with them.


(Note: I will be RPing with my alt [member="Sannika Brynn"] from here on. There will be no further posts by Geneviève Lasedri to prevent alt-stacking.)

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth took a deep breath and double checked his scanners as they streaked in towards the target. Time for the last briefing. He tapped his comm, "Listen up, Rogues. Expect some heavy defense here given its strategic value to the CIS and the war with the Protectorate. We go in low and fast, hit the factory and peel off to support the Marines nabbing the ships. Rules of engagement are as follows." He double checked his intel, "Target only the factory and its defenses. You hit anything else and you'll be swabbing the hangar floor for a year. If Republic forces appear, peel off and scatter. Do not engage. last thing we need is to become an enemy of the Republic at the same time as the CIS. All right. Stick with your wingmate and watch each other's backs. Prepare to engage."

He shoved the throttle forward, sending the craft speeding downwards and rolled the craft over to realign the up-down spectrum, and then added something else, "Remember the effects atmosphere has on your craft. Don't think like you're in zero g."

 

[Sannika Brynn]

This was it--Sannika's first mission! Her dream to be a pilot had finally come true after a stint of mediocrity in the hangars of the Republic. Sure, they had to jack up her seat just so she could see above the control panels, but all that mattered was that someone trusted her enough with a starcraft. It was showtime!

Sannika streaked behind her squadron leader in the Alliance-commissioned Adril starfighter, sportingly splashed in red lettering with the name Kantankerous Kill. "Yo! Rogue 2 is in, Rogue Leader," she checked in, her hands veering the yoke gradually to nudge the fighter craft into formation at Roth's four o' clock. She nodded to herself, heeding her leader's warning about atmospheric flight. Of course, it was a lot easier to control her ship in a high-gravity situation, but mentally transitioning from zero-gravity flight was often tricky.

Mountains sprouted and lakes pooled underneath as the Rogues dropped altitude, aiming for the factories of Haor Chall by a more discrete route in order to avoid alarming the Republic citizens. "Looking clear, Lead. It's a beautiful day outside."

[member=Mrrew], [member="Lupe Baracka"], [member="Hunter Cain"], [member="Yusan Fenn"], [member="Harland Gates"], [member="Roth Tillian"], [member="Salem Norongachi"], [member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

Lately there wasn’t much to bother Marek Starchaser. The Hand of Fate was alive and well, the Confederacy was undergoing whatever it was doing, and he had his new assistant. Really, life was working out easier. Simpler, and he wasn’t that worried any more. He was starting to grow in the Force, but that was all under wraps, and not being shown to most of the people he knew, in his state, or in his business dealings. A few knew where he was getting training from, they could feel it on him, but the rest? They’d just know he was willing to use whatever methods necessary no disintegration.

Hell, he’d disintegrate whoever he damned well pleased. This was Marek Starchaser, and for him there was no such thing as overkill.

His comlink started to go off and he took the message. It appeared that some rag tag group was attacking Charros IV. A world he was claiming watchmanship over due to the company known as Haor Chall Engineering. A small firm that provided only a minor fraction of ships to the Confederacy, and due to focus being placed on other companies, they were only providing assistance to their parent company so far. Looking up to Alana, he nodded.

“Time to go.” He said, standing up from the table.

“Go? Where?”

“Seems we’re experiencing some difficulties at Haor Chall.” He said calmly, placing a credit cit for the total as well as a solid tip on the table. Stepping out of the establishment with Alana in tow, he made his way to the hangar, where his Dark Tide was sitting.

Opening up another comlink channel he nodded. Giving a direct order to launch the new Vulture droids from Haor Chall and was making a few other quick calls. The droids should entertain everyone while he made his way there. The real confusion here was that he didn’t know why they didn’t just contact him for whatever they needed. If he was selling to certain people, he could always consider selling elsewhere, or if they wanted to make a purchase? He’d gladly take their credits.

As Alana lifted the ship and headed for the hyperspace buoy, he contacted both [member="Sasha Santhe"] and [member="Jared Ovmar"]. They were in charge of Haor Chall’s parent company Santhe Corp, and he hoped one of them had a better than ‘let me rent land and not attack you’ agreement with the Republic. Would be nice to scatter this little gang.

“We’re ready for lightspeed, sir.”

Marek only nodded as Alana propelled them across the galaxy to get out to Charros IV.

 

[Mrrew]

Mrrew's ship had landed a little ways off from the factory, not long ago, before the actual attack started. He wasn't any form of pilot, and his astrodroid could in no way dodge and weave betwene defensive fire. So landing at the actual scene of the attack would have been suicide. Mrrew had taken the best equipment he had with him. This was the bigegst event he'd taken part in since the invasion on that New Order temple, with the technobeasts.... he shuddered at the thought. He didn't want a repeat of that. So, The Togorian left his ship with all his best gear. His dauntless combat blade and one of his balster pistols hung at the bodo bass guneblt around his waist. His Harpy Sniper rifle was connected to the sling that sat on the back of his bandoleir, which hung with an arrange of ammo, as well as several small thermal detonators. Over all of that, the extra large Lotek'k jacket he'd won in an Akure leatherworks auction hung over him. He'd never worn it before, and he wasn't exactly sure how it worked... But the instruction manual said something to do with putting a drop of blood in one of the pockets...was supposed to scare the crap out of enemy soldiers. He'd have to try that.

The Large Togorian had been walking towards the factory the alliance had been ready to attack since he landed, his shattergun charged and ready in both hands, and his ears constantly swivelig in every directiont o pick up any sign of enemies. He knew this was dangerous, he knew half the rebels would probably get badly injured, or worse. But hey- if it helped acomplish their goal, then it was worth it. So, he signed up. If the CIS was using these factories, then they were worth attacking. Hopefully, they wouldnt be too well defended...

 

[Bubák]

Taking another sip from a drinking glass that held Corellian whiskey, Kyla tried to wrap her mind around these reports. Licking her lips and enjoying the woody, spicy flavor as she rolled the liquid over her tongue, the young GIA agent set the glass on the desk and lifted her other hand holding a cigar towards her mouth, taking it in and inhaling the smoke before putting the cigar into the ashtray. Smoking kills, drinking alcohol before missions as well, but this was her way of relaxing while travelling through hyperspace, so everyone could kiss her ***. The blank gaze in her eyes pierced the infinite empty void that lied behind the window, watching the black, blue and white lights. What awaited her at the end of this tunnel?

Turning her attention back to the datapad, the blue eyes went over the sentences informing her of suspicious activity going on around Charros IV, precisely one factory on the planet. Given the alarming shortage of agents, it was Kyla's job to take a closer look at that and investigate it. For all she knew, the Sith might have launched a small task force on the planet to get its factories under control. Or maybe a large force of pirates wished to exploit the Republic being busy with the Sith and do a raid? Given the vagueness of these reports, the redhead could expect anything, so she had to be prepared for it. She had already sent a message to her little group, but doubted any of them could give her a hand without making the infiltrated groups suspicious. Perhaps she'd be pleasantly surprised once she arrived?

The agent rose up from the seat she has been sitting on and walked to the small cargo bay where she stored the majority of her equipment. Kyla took on the Warden-class body armor that was painted black and attached the Republic insignia on it for everyone to know her allegiance. This assignment did not fall under the black operation category. Light submachinegun, silenced sniper rifle, combat knife in the right boot, two Model J1 palm blasters, one in the pocket and the other in her left boot, Paired Pivot Blades on her wrists, spare magazined for slugthrower weaponry and finally, her silenced pistol. After putting on the helmet, she checked most of the armor's systems and upon finding everything to be OK, returned to the cockpit. It was time to solve this mystery.

As the ship exited the hyperspace and the planet's silhouette appeared in the view, the young woman jumped back into the seat and guided the ship towards the arid planet covered with lakes, mountains and plateaus. Although the computer showed her where the factory in question was, the woman landed about a kilometer away from it, flying low to stay off radars and avoid being spotted by any group that might have taken over the facility. If things went south, she would do her best to return to her ship and use a long-range transmitter to alert the Republic armed forces.

Opening the door in the cargo bay and stepping out, her boots thudded heavily against the ground as she marched a few meters away from the ship, scanning her surroundings for any activity. Everything seemed to be quiet; too quiet, in fact. Remotely closing the door of her ship and turning the shields on, the young woman slowly and carefully started advancing towards the factory, slower pace silencing her steps to an acceptable level. The sniper rifle she held felt surprisingly comfortable, as those were not gloved palms of an ordinary woman that held the cold metal, but strong hands of an experienced soldier.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

​

HAOR CHALL​

Main Factory​

​

A series of hulking figures stepped off a large shuttle and onto the landing platform of one of the planet's many cathedral factories. A black and white Herglic was at the forefront of the group. Orbalisk armor encased nearly the whole of his body save for black boots. A sable cape billowed out behind. Two purple-skinned Herglic brutes flanked him. Their large underbites exposed enormous teeth. They wore durasteel armor and carried oversized pistols that appeared more handcannon than blaster.

A scarred, grey Karkarodon emerged from the factory gate, offering his flipper to the lead cetacean.

"Lord Orcus," he rasped.

"Graze," boomed Orcus, clasping the flipper and shaking firmly, "What is the status of the Haor Chall factories?"

"We have officers from Darkwater Security at every factory, each leading teams of droids from Santhe Security's main force. We are performing the same at Cestus Cybernetics. You have seen?"

Orcus nodded.

"Anti-air defenses are also in place. Ma-"

Klaxons blared abruptly and red lights began flashing along the mountain-side built factory. Darth Orcus frowned, hairless brows creasing in consternation. Graze was already on the comlink with several patrol officers. His emotionless black eyes looked up at Orcus.

"We are under attack," he rasped to Orcus, then began calmly issuing commands into his comlink as he walked back toward the factory gate.

The Sith Lord followed, teeth clacking in thought. Who would have attacked a Confederacy affiliated subsidiary owned by Santhe Corporation on a Republic world? Silver Jedi? No they would not risk it. Moross were allied with the Republic. It certainly was not the One Sith. Orcus would know if any of his brothers and sisters were here. So... who? The question lingered in his mind for several more seconds before the answer appeared. Either a new actor was at play here or...

Rebels.

Orcus released an angry snort from his blowholes and began a furious hum. More offensive to him than Jedi or Republic were those who sought to tear down the very structures of civilization itself. Drowned fools, does the notion of peace escape their land-sick minds?

"Where is Usar?" he boomed.

Graze turned around. "Sobek and Usar haven't reported in yet."

The Herglic clacked his teeth once more, still humming. Where were those two idiots?

[member="Kyla Verss"] [member="Mrrew"] [member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Sannika Brynn"] @Roth Tillian

 

[Sasha Santhe]

To say that Sasha was not pleased was an understatement. The truth was she was pissed. Her corporation owned hundreds, thousands, of factories and shipyards throughout the galaxy and the minute she purchased Haor Chall from [member="Marek Starchaser"] it came under attack. She half suspected the man knew this was going to happen before selling her the darn company. Either way it didn’t matter.

Flanking one of the wealthiest women in the Galaxy, nineteen year old Sasha Santhe, was a large crocodilian creature. Sobek he was called. He was hired by Darkwater Security and was currently assigned as her bodyguard. “This is Sasha Santhe to all Santhe Security vessels. Get the security droids onto the ground. Protect what you can.”

“Do we know why they are raiding?”

Sasha shrugged a little, “No clue, everything constructed here is on the open market, unless their objective is to destroy the facility killing the innocent factory workers.”

“They are bugs,” Sobek said irritably.

“Yes but they are innocent bugs. Now do your job and protect my many assets.”

The creature snorted in reply. “Your assets are of concern to me it’s true, but I care more about those facilities now.”

“You are a repulsive lizard,” Sasha said as their transport landed near the facility. “But I don’t pay you for your manners.”

She watched as several Herglics led her droids off the vessel. The Santhe Fleet would arrive soon in orbit to take care of any pesky air support these terrorists might have. “Huaaam!” the Herglics called their songs as they departed leading contingents of droids.

With luck and time more would come to support the factory. After all what was the point in being in a secret cabal if they didn’t come to help.

[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Darth Janus"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]
[member="Doctor Agnusdei"]
[member="Hakan Venttuss"]
[member="Jiana Korr"]
@Moria Skaldi
[member="Rave"] Merril
[member="Selka Ventus"]
[member="Tyger Tyger"]
[member="Valik"]

 

[Hunter Cain]

Hunter Cain was was taking a tour of the storeroom floor, admiring the sleek vessels that were prepared for purchase. The salesman gushed over every vessel in his attempts to land a sale. Hunter was in the market for a new ship, or at least, Jebediah Larson was in the market for a new ship, for that was the alias that Hunter was using.
Before even entering the system, Hunter had created an entire identity for one Jebediah Larson, an up and coming cantina owner with in need of ships for transport, and for defense. The false identity was iron clad, and would withstand even the most rigid of background checks. Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

The salesman continued with his pitch "And how would this one work for you Mr. Larson?"
Hunter ran his hand gently against the hull of the smooth hull.
"She's a beauty, maybe I can take her for a-"
The blaring of klaxons interrupted him.
Right on time, he thought to himself.

The salesman seemed stuck in bewilderment at the sound. A mechanical voice echoed from the speaker, instructing people to evacute the area or take shelter.

Leaving the salesmen behind, Hunter merged in with a group of people making their way deeper into the facility. Based on the intel he had received, several points of interest were located between where he was, and the evacuation zone. He would easily find a point to fade away from the crowd and do what he did best....
[member="Kyla Verss"] @Mrrew @Marek Starchaser [member="Sannika Brynn"] @Roth Tillian

 

[Ordo]

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Roth Tillian "][member="Sannika Brynn"] [member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Mrrew"] [member="Kyla Verss"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Sasha Santhe"] [member="Hunter Cain"]

Charros IV...Charros Shabla Four. Ordo had not been to this little dirt ball of a planet since the days of the Old Empire. He had fought an detachment from the 401st legion, blown up a mine and wrecked half a city before banging out. Funny, he never thought he'd come back without wanting to glass the place and had his new business associate not owned property here he could definitely be satisfied lighting the place up.

The large Kandosii-type Dreadnought dropped from hyperspace and loomed over the world as Ordo walked to his fighter. He had heard there was a top cover for ground operation against his young associate's holdings. Well he would be happy to give the upstarts something to do.

"Striil Squadron Launch in 10." He ordered walking into the hanger and preping his Vhe'viin fighter, "we have gnats to swat."

 

[Mrrew]

By now, Mrrew stood on the edge of the small sparse forest where he had parked his ship, only a few dozen meters from the start of the factory's grounds. His ears flicked rapidly, taking in all of the sounds coming from the factory. Loud alarms blaring. Well... they knew that the Rebels were here. Mrrew smiled slightly, watching a small group of factory workers flee from one of the back emergency exits. He didn't want to hurt them. He didn't have a problem with the workers the Factory hired. He had a problem with the faction the factory supplied to. So, Mrrew waited for the flock of fleeing factory workers to leave the back enterance, before he began to make his way there himself. He held his shattergun, fully charged and ready, in both hands, ready to blast away any guards that got to close as he raced towards the side of the factory. Once there, he stayed close against it. If they had any large calliber weapons, war vehicles, or ships, theywouldn't dare try and attack Mrrew as long as he was hugging the wall of the factory. And so, moving along the outer wall of the factory- directly against the wlal so that any CTTV cameras mounted there could've only seen him race to the factory, but could no longer watch him- Mrrew creeped to the emergency exit where he saw the civilians fleeing...

| [member="Ordo"] | [member="Hunter Cain"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Hion the Herglic"] | [member="Kyla Verss"] |

 

[Corey's OOC]

He and Alana spent the time of the hyperspace trip in meditation. It was a good way to pass the time, and make sure that they weren’t going to start to go crazy with keeping their mind on everything that was going on over in Charros. Really, Marek wasn’t too worried, since working with [member="Sasha Santhe"], he knew that she was very influential and would probably have the situation mostly handled before he even had a chance to arrive.

The pair made it to the cockpit when the alarms went off that real space was going to be entered shortly. What he needed to do was start to develop a brain for the ship, well, all his ships, that could handle a few different systems and keep him informed on the situation. SeaDee was doing that fine, but really, it wouldn’t be bad to have a more mobile, or easily stored system to help him out.

Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Marek turned to Alana. “Be ready, dunno exactly what’s goin’ on here.” He nodded as he assisted the ship into real space.

The systems from Haor Chall filled in his ship’s droid brain so that the display was providing him several marks, AA guns, and some of his friends. “This is Dark Tide reaching out to Darkwater, or any Santhe vessels. Do we have any updates?”

He was rolling his eyes. He really didn’t enjoy guerillas attacking a facility with mainly public market projects. “Looks like we’re going to land, huh?” Alana asked, looking to Marek.

He merely nodded as she announced his ship’s arrival to all friendly parties, Darkwater, [member="Hion the Herglic"], Haor Chall, and the Kandosii Dreadnought, whom he was hoping was [member="Ordo"], and friendly. Vulture Droid Starfighters formed up on the Tide as Marek proceeded to the main factory. He was wondering who he was going to see here. The blonde stood up, heading back to the armory to ready her pistol, lightsaber, and light body armor. It was simple X-1 Santhe Armor. Similar to what Marek opted to wear. When she was ready, she came back up to the cockpit to take the ship in for its final landing as Marek calmly walked back to the armory himself.

 

[Garza]

I shook my head as I was dressed for the battle. Already inside the ship of my choosing, it was literally the fastest Starship that was on the somewhat open market to date. The red and white colored Rassilon-class Starfighter. Very fast, and armed with weapons that could take out just about any other Starfighter in a dogfight. However, I was not here for that. As one of the few Masters of the force in the Rogue group of the Alliance, I held a high position, but I commanded no troops with me. I worked alone. It was an old habit of mine that I wanted to fix so I could have some backup, but my entire life had been about survival. So I was alone in this ship as I flew towards the Haor Chall plantation of which we would be attacking.

Hearing a voice over the com system of it being a good day, I shook my head. This would not be a good day. Even if we got what we wanted, We would be losing men left and right. I cared for others... kind of. More so I care that they should be living and deserve a chance to live. War and battle, was not a chance at life. Going into battle is almost like taking a knife, and stabbing it towards your hand with your eyes closed. Not knowing if you will be the one surviving, and living to fight another day, or the one who will get stabbed in the reference, but killed in reality. I was one of the lucky ones who had a second sight to avoid hitting my hand, but I knew that one day, my luck would run out.

That is, if I really had any luck.

Flying towards the plantation, I switched on my guns, ready to be used with a click of the buttons on the joysticks being gripped by either hand. "Fire when in sight of the plantation. Hit everything of theirs. Hit a Republic asset, and I will leave you behind to deal with them." The Republic was a partial friend as we were fighting mostly against groups of Sith and Dark Jedi, even if I was one, I was an outcast among them. I didn't care. This is where I would be taking my stand.

Spoiler

[member="Marek Starchaser"], [member="Mrrew"], [member="Ordo"], [member="Hunter Cain"], [member="Sasha Santhe"], [member="Hion the Herglic"], [member="Kyla Verss"], [member="Sannika Brynn"], @Roth Tillian,

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Plantations are for growing things, like cotton. Haor Chall didn't own any plantations. They did however own factories. Factories are for making things, like starfighters. Haor Chall made a lot of starfighters. Let us examine in particular one of their newer line of Vulture droids, a squadron of which - as per Starchaser's orders - was moving to intercept the evil pilots firing on innocent factory workers, like [member="Dante Zankar"].

There were also Anti-Air guns stationed all across the factory. These began targeting the members of Rogue Squadron and unceremoniously trying to blow them into teeny-tiny bits.

Meanwhile, Orcus and his team from Darkwater continued to move into the Main Factory, making sure that nothing similar to - oh, I don't know, a rebel unit of special forces marines? - were trying to sabotage them.

Orcus grimaced at the sound of starfighter fire outside. "Rebel scum," he grumbled.

As for [member="Hunter Cain"], blending into the populace would've worked very well in plainclothes... unless that populace was composed of nonhuman bugs, then it didn't work well at all. Not one bit. Especially when Graze gave the command to,

"Lock down all the factory facilities. No one gets in or out. Report any suspicious activities to me or Lord Orcus immediately."

 

[Sannika Brynn]

"Yo! Rogue Leader, I'm picking up some bogeys here. Two squadrons--they're approaching at opposite dials. What do I do?" Sannika furrowed her brow as she analyzed the HUD readings she was getting. Vulture types were coming in hot. "Demon's Blade is going in steep. Are we gonna follow him?" She knew that a dive and strafe were the only way they were going to do any exceptional damage without being pulverized by anti-air fire, but her confidence was still underdeveloped. This was her first real strike, after all.

"I'm a little worried, is all..." she muttered to herself, making sure her comms were not activated at that moment. Nervously peering over her shoulder to visually spot the droid starfighters closing in, Rogue 2 tensed her arms and gripped the yoke like a vice. No one was dying today. And if anyone was, it sure as Force was not going to be her or her squadmates.

This is the point in the ride when you realize just what you had committed to and wish you could get off.

[member="Roth Tillian"], [member="Ordo"]

 

[Roth Tillian]

[member="Sannika Brynn"]

Roth studied his scanners, taking count of everything he could read on it as the first anti-air guns opened fire as they flew over the edge of the border of the factory grounds.

"Roger, Rogue Two, stay right behind me. Changing mission objectives. Hit the power generators and the gun emplacements since they opened fire first. Then we're getting out as soon as the ground team pulls out." He signalled the ground crew, "Pull out as soon as you can. Too many here for us to handle." He double checked his scope and shook his head.

"Alright, Rogue Two, here's the plan, since there's just the two of us and Demon's Blade. We'll drop beneath the anti-air fire and don one run straight across, hitting the gun emplacements as we go, and then hit the generator. We don't stop. We don't deviate from the course. Then we leave. Clear?"

 

[Ordo]

[member="Sannika Brynn"] [member="Roth Tillian "][member="Dante Zankar"]

(([member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Mrrew"] [member="Hunter Cain"] [member="Sasha Santhe"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Kyla Verss"]))

"Stay tight." Ordo said as Striil squadron bore down through the atmosphere. The black and gold Vhe'viins were some of the toughest fighters in existance. With a coating of beskar alloy and the speed of an interceptor. Though not as heavily armed as other fighters they could take far more than most.

Ordo broke cloud cover and began picking up several fast moving bogeys enroute to the factories owned by his business partner, facilities that supplied his production lines, facilities that he would rather not help rebuild.

" This is Striil leader, I want 2 'V' formations intercept and engage, I don't care if they survive as long as they leave." Ordo ordered as the sqaudron raced forward. "In range in 5."

Ordo counted down as the fighter moved and in propertime he used his first force power, the power to dogfight with the force as a guide and began firing.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Two SAM emplacements launched four surface-to-air missiles at Rogue squadron's wonder twins who were busy trying not to engage two whole squadrons. Two missiles headed for [member="Roth Tillian "]and two for [member="Sannika Brynn"]. The only way to avoid a SAM was to attempt evasive maneuvers and hope it didn't hit, or to try and launch chaff or flares. Anti-Air emplacements were there for a reason. Pilots who ran their gauntlet died. These weapons weren't some AA flak bursts from bygone eras that just looked cool in the holovids. These were active radar missiles that would track their targets until they ran out of fuel (unlikely) or exploded right through the fragile starfighter frame of their target.

 

[Bubák]

The first thing that confirmed the reports of suspicious activity going on was the thundering fire of anti-air missiles defending the factory. This meant it truly came under attack, just as she believed, now the agent just had to determine who has launched this assault on this seemingly uninteresting facility. Her head turned up towards the sky in the direction of the facility, seeing many droids defending the complex while the other fighters attacked. The diversity among their ships indicated the attackers were truly pirates as the majority of nations sported specific designs for their ships. Their number also made Kyla wonder of several things, given the attack force was way too large for mere pirates. Looking further up, searching for the ship the fighters took off from, she shivered in fear as she saw the intimidating shape of a Kandosii-type dreadnaught. If her memory served correctly, this massive vessel was usually used by the Mandalorians as a capital ship. By no means this could have been authorized by any of her superiors, a foreign capital ship wreaking havoc in the Republic space joined by a group that seemed like pirates.

The redhead hit the ground, slamming her body in dirt to present less of a target. At least her ship remained remained out of the fight for now, but unfortunately the distance did not allow her to sprint back and request reinforcements through the long-range transmitter. She could not risk running that far and pray no pilot noticed her, even if she miraculously managed to get into her ship, she risked it being falsely flagged as an enemy by the factory's defence systems and targeted by a missile. No, there was no going back now, she had to unwillingly participate in this battle or hide and hope for the best. As a warrior, she picked the former and crawled towards one of the mounds in her way to get in cover. Peaking from behind it with her sniper rifle, the young agent gazed through the scope and scanned the area. By no means was she going to stick her head out more than she already had, but perhaps her trusty weapon could take down a pirate or two? Kyla only had to be clever about it, shoot an enemy and move to a new cover while the opponents went to the wounded and took cover themselves. The terrain offered a few bumps for both parties to hide behind if needed.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth laughed softly, exhilaration and adrenaline shooting through him as he opened himself to the Force. This was going to be a fight. "Alright, listen. We're going straight through the enemy squadron of Vultures. Bring those missiles in through their cloud. Stay clear of the squadron coming in from above. Those will be good pilots if they're Mando like that cruiser. Don't need to make this any more than business with them.

He sensed another using the Force from above. He swallowed nervously. "Definitely stay clear of the ones above. Use the Vultures as cover."' He switched his mind to flying, only talking automatically, keeping up an automatic stream of information and advice. "Bogeys in three directions. Objective ahead. Full throttle ahead. Do not deviate." He pushed the brittle forward a little more as everything came in slightly better focus and a little slower. He dipped his craft sideways as the first barrage of lasers streaked by, shaking the craft, and then he twisted to the other side as the first missile got close. He deployed flares and hen dove, heading straight for one of the missile emplacements. He squeezed he trigger, launching a quick barrage of lasers before cutting e speed and yanking the nose up as lasers streaked just ahead of him, and then twisted to port again, trying to push some more speed from his craft as the fighters dropped in from above.

"Question is," He mused, "Is what makes this factory so special to call in so many reinforcements? What are they hiding?"