Solution on Scarif [Imperial Remnant T2 Dominion of Scarif and Kowak]

[Kira Vaal]

Chaos reigned supreme.

All around the Falcon turbo battery shots impacted hard against the surface of Scarif, piles of sand, water and dust were thrown high into the air by each hit, with neat nimble moves the age old YT series weaved between the epicentres of such blasts with surprising grace.

“I need an opening Alasdair.” Kira had taken her seat in the pilot’s chair, hands already firmly prising the yoke and controls as she fought back against the Falcon’s want to constantly fall apart. She was of course referring to the Imperial fleet that had taken up position above the planet, the Imperial fleet that was ever minute adding to the destruction on the planet below, the Imperial fleet that was winning. “I can’t keep us down here forever.”

“I know, I know.” Alasdair snapped, she didn’t know if it was at her or the Wookiee in the copilot seat who had chosen an inappropriate time to snarl some comment back at the Rebel Agent sat in the communication chair. “I’m trying I promise.”

“Well try harder.” An alarm screeched. “There goes the deflector shields.” Charlwook growled at Kira, teeth bared as he stressed out. “Just reset them, even if they will only take one hit I’d rather that hit be on the shields then the hull.”

“Kira.” Alasdair shouted over her shoulder. “Go up. Get up NOW.”

The viewport became full of sky as Kira pulled the Falcon up high, the sound of the engines screaming in contest filling the cockpit as blue shifted to navy and black as they left the orbital confines of the planet revealing the true scope of the Imperial Fleet. “I don’t see how this was any different then before…”

“Wait…”

“This is Gold Leader.”
“This is Red Leader.”
“Green…”
“Blue…”
“Phoenix reporting in…”
“Starbird here…”

“What? How? Why?” Kira couldn’t believe her eyes as emerging from hyperspace was a fleet of a fielding size unknown for the Rebellion. Thirty odd ships, twice as many fighters, maybe more. She glanced back at Alasdiar.

“I have my moments.” He smirked.

“That you do.” She replied.

“Falcon the run is yours. We’ll keep them busy. May the Force be with you.”

 

[Darren Jarok]

Darren's fleet emerged from hyperspace to see the thirty rebel ships. An alarm blared on board the Nemesis signalling battle stations. The Commodore looked out to scarif seeing the explosion of the rebel base. He smirked at the sight of it. Darren's fleet had 12 vessels, 2 Star Destroyers, 5 Arquinten cruisers, 3 Aclimators and 2 interdictors. Darren looked out to the rebel fleet.

"This is Commodore Jarok, here to assist." He said

The fleet moved to intercept the rebel fleet. TIEs flooded out of the hangers of all the ships. The TIEs moved swiftly to attack the rebel fighters. Darren spoke into him communicator then placed it on his belt. A large group of remaining Mako heavy Star fighters came from the surface of Scarif firing torpedoes into capital ships. The Mako was built to Counter capital ships. Flashes of Turbolaser from the fleet began firing at the rebel fleet.

"Fighter squadrons, Focus fire on other fighters, Arquintens take out their corvettes and frigates and Assault ships try to get troops on the ground. I need a small group of fighters to escort those shuttles." Darren said.

Darren looked out in Awe to see the rebel ship from the Galactic Civil War, The Millennium Falcon. He read about it in the Imperial Archives. The Commodore got word of [member="Tanomas Graf"] star destroyer was incoming. Darren had to warn him about the mass rebel fleet that arrived.

"Get a message to the Avenger. Tell them that a large rebel fleet of about 30 ships with tons of fighters have arrived near Scarif. Proceed with caution

 

[Vrapir Detta]

Detta held on tightly as the transport shook violently, despite being one of the latter waves, they were still getting shot to hell. With no windows to see the outside world, Detta could only imagine the hell that was going on out there. Then there was a loud boom and the transport started to dive far steeper than it should. Detta's lieutenant screamed, "Hold on!" Inside his pristine helmet, Detta cringed and shut his eyes as he awaited the large crash about to take place.

The sudden lurch as the transport hit the water nearly broke his neck, but he lived, A massive scramble took place as the passengers all scrambled to escape from the quickly filling Sentinel transport. Busting off the safety harness, Detta followed his comrades out of the transport, leaving the dead and injured helpless within its metal confines.

 

[Tanomas Graf]

XVI

The Grand Moff's flagship, the Avenger, rescinded from hyperspace on the flank of the Rebel fleet. Having received the warning from the Commodore Jarok, green turbolaser and blue ion cannon blasts erupted from certain positions on the imposing superstructure of the Imperial Star Destroyer. Peppering the Rebel fleet in destructive plasma, several of the smaller ships did not stand a chance, their shields punctured by the superior firepower and their hulls cascading in explosions of fire.

Tanomas stared out of the viewports at the travesty before him, a solemn but saddened expression apparent on his features. "Sir! The scanners are on the fritz, an old subroutine dating back to the Galactic Civil War just popped up and began tracking a ship...Sir...it's the Millennium Falcon!" An ensign cried from the crewpits, to the shock of the Grand Moff while he registered this information. "Break off from our current trajectory and intercept that ship! FIRE ALL ION CANNONS AND PREPARE THE TRACTOR BEAMS!" Graf barked to the bridge at large.

The Avenger would proceed to pivot from its current position and give chase to the fleeing Corellian freighter, guns blasing and attempting to get a tractor beam lock.

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[Vrapir Detta]

The scene around him was lit by laser fire and burning vehicles as Detta swam ashore. They were lucky enough to be only ten meters away from the nearest isle in one of the more intense battles across the planet. Once his feet touched the ground, the stormtrooper looked around him, of his platoon, only 15 had gotten out of the transport before it had become fully submerged, or at least the cabin had. Two of its large wings stuck out defiantly from the ocean's depths, a memorial of sorts to those who had perished with it. Detta broke his gaze remembering the task at hand, the rebels in the sector of the galaxy still fought hard on the planets surface, and he was here to put an end to that, all of it.

 

[Vrapir Detta]

Once the majority of the platoon stood upon solid, dry ground, the only NCO remaining took off his helmet, "Command's last orders where to engage, that, citadel." He said, pointing at the tallest building on the isle. He put his helmet back on, sliding it into place, "Follow my lead, and fight to the last man." What was left of the platoon nodded their heads in acknowledgement, and they set off, marching loosely and without order towards the fighting. Sporadic firing began as the rebels became closer and closer, who eventually started firing back. Eventually Detta himself began taking potshots at rebel positions, to no eval, not that it gave him pause, for he was dedicated to his job, no matter what.

 

[Vrapir Detta]

Everything seemed to go as planned, until the platoon came under the fire of a repeating blaster cannon. Its high rate of fire tore through the battered unit as sand and plasma residue flew up around them. The men he had trained with for months were mowed down in seconds, falling into the sand as lifeless shells of the men and women they had once been. But Detta pressed on, until he as well was hit, taking a dive into the shrubby sand with a thud. He groaned with pain as the calf wound cauterized on impact, but he did not die. The fire cut only half a minute later as the rest of his platoon had seized their charge. Detta waited a few more minutes before standing up, hoping to avoid a second wave of laser fire.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

XVII

The 501st charged through the beaches of Scarif, firing their signature E-11 blaster rifles at the retreating forms of Rebel soldiers as they attempted to return to their bases and evacuate the planet. Major Fleming sprinted along with dozens of his brothers into the shallow oceans after the traitors and continued to fire. The environment changed several times, until they lost track of the Rebel scum in a burning jungle filled with charred corpses.

"Keep your eyes open! They're still around here!" Fleming yelled, barking at his troops. At that moment, a pile of debris shifted suddenly, a squad of stormtroopers closed in with their weapons raised. "I'm getting a heat signature, it's not a stormtrooper." One of them reported as they moved the rest of it to revealed a grievously wounded being.

Imperial Military Director Travis Caalgen.

 

[Vrapir Detta]

As the time had passed, Detta pushed himself up with his elbows and turned over and his rear, looking around to see if any of his fellow platoon mates had lived. As he looked, he only saw five others moving. It was not a pleasant sight, but Detta was relieved he wasn't the lone survivor. Detta rolled over onto his chest and began an army crawl over to the medic. He shook the man and checked his pulse, but the medic was certainly dead. Opening one of his packs, he took a painkiller and injected it through one of the gaps in his armor, going straight through the black body suit he wore under it. His leg now numb, he stood up with difficulty, and began injecting those who had survived with painkillers. Once he had given the last survivor a vial, he threw it haphazard and spoke to his comrades with resolve, "Our job is not finished, we must carryon." The drugged up remainders of his platoon began to pick themselves up and started to move in the direction of the citadel, but not firing to avoid unnecessary attention.

 

[Travis Caalgen]

XVIII

All he could see was fire, a blazing inferno of fire caused by his own creation. It would've been beautiful if he was not about to die, the pain was overwhelming, from both the burns and the blaster wound he had received mere minutes ago. His world turned to black as something, debris he thought, landed all over him, shielding him from the fire but cutting him and causing gashes to appear on his body. His uniform was scorched, covered in sweat, and bloodied. What felt like hours could've been just several minutes, until he heard the crunching of dirt in the distance and the roar of blaster fire.

The debris shifted, and his eyes adjusted to the bright light of Scarif's skies, staring down the barrel of multiple blaster rifles and luckily, stormtroopers. "Imperial Director Caalgen, status changed from KIA to WIA, over. I repeat, we have found Director Caalgen." A shoretrooper reported into a comlink. A shuttle would land soon and he would be loaded into a medical capsule, safe from the horrors of the Conqueror.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

"Sir!" A frantic Kilko called over the bustling of the bridge, "Hyperspace signatures detected by the system patrols, The Avenger has reported it is in pursuit of a Rebel fleet!"

Irridius turned calmly, eyes piercing the distance between them, "Good. We shall crush their ability to conduct a war. Order all batteries to cease fire and turn the Star Destroyers toward the expected exit point of the fleet. Recall all but Blockade runners from the edges of the system and continue scanning for hyperspace anomalies."

Turning back to the viewport, Irridius watched as the batteries stopped firing and his fleet of Star Destroyers began the quick about-face towards the hyperspace signatures at the edge of the system. "Tarkin's wall is to ensure all gravity wells are at maximum power. This fleet will not escape"

Before long, dozens of Rebel capital ships appeared in the vastness of space. "Lock all weapon, full bombardment on their flagship"

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

XIX

Vector Squadron, an elite squadron of TIE/D Defenders, raced out from the hangar bay of the one of the Imperial Star Destroyers. Several other squadrons of TIE/IN Interceptors and TIE/LN Starfighters appeared out of their respective ships and intercepted the Rebel X-wings and Y-wings to prevent them from harming their carriers. Vector Squadron did not attempt to enter one of the dogfights, instead diving through them all until they were passed the massive screen of fighter engagements. Their target was the apparent Rebel command ship, insinuated by them powering up their ion cannons.

Large bursts of ion cannon blasts peppered the shields of the ship, slowly making a dent in the power working in tandem with the firepower of the Imperial Starfleet. The shields were down and Vector fired everything they could into the ship's bridge, destroying it and incapacitating the ship to be boarded.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Ardross"]

"Admiral, sensors are reading complete incapacitation of the enemy flagship." Kilko called out only minutes after the firing had begun and fighters deployed. The Grand Admiral watches as chunks of metal debris floated off into the darkness, leaving only a gaping hole where the viewport of the enemy ship had once been.

"Excellent, leave it for the Inquisition. Perhaps we can find the location of the terrorist base with whatever files are left onboard. Target the Correlian Corvettes next, followed by the frigates. Destroy them, we have no need for more survivors."

Irridius' commands were carried out without question. Hails of green turbolaser fire filled the darkness, crashing into the hulls of the much smaller vessels as the entirety of the First Fleet slowly encircled the helpless fleet.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

XX

A Sentinel-class landing craft, escorted by several TIE fighters, approached the incapacitated Rebel command ship and docked with it, the inhabitants of the shuttle moving into the vessel to begin boarding operations. Several Rebel soldiers stood in front of a command console, impatiently waiting for their data to be transmitted onto a disk. It finished and the disk exited out of a slot, full of their secrets, one of them took it and began running with the others down the flickering corridor towards a closed blast door. The courier pressed the switch and the door began to open, only to jam suddenly, leaving them stranded as the lights finally went out, leaving them only in the trickling light from the blast door's viewport.

Noises were evident back from where they came from, they heard a door forced open and heavy footfalls in the darkness. Smoke began to fill that end as mechanical breathing assaulted their ears. Red light sprung to life as a large man, adorned in black army, ignited his lightsaber, staring straight at the squad of soldiers.

It was an Inquisitor.

​

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Skaara Carlon"]

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The fire was relentless. Without pause, the fleet of Star Destroyers rained a hail of death upon the helpless, outdated ship the rebels had scrambled in hopes of turning the tides of battle. Battered already by the likes of the Avenger, the rebel fleet was being made into minced meat by the firepower Irridius wielded at his fingertips. The Victory's alone were shredding through shield and hull alike, creating an explosive confetti of durasteel and crewmen sucked into the vacuum of space.

"Sir, readings indicate that the enemy shields are less than fifteen percent across all hulls."

"Excellent" Irridius mused, eyes glancing over the readouts for his own fleet. The star destroyers were in excellent condition, not one shield breach and zero hull damage. "I grow tired of this of these shenanigans. Prime starboard missile ports and target all ships with less than ten percent shield integrity."

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

XXI

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"OPEN FIRE!" One yelled, and all of the Rebels raised their DH-17 blasters to blast the High Inquisitor to no avail. Every single blaster bolts was met with the blade of a red lightsaber, and was bounced off into a wall or back into their owner's chest. The Lord stepped forward with every twist of his blade, approaching the frightened rebels attempting to fight for their lives, trapped between a closed blast door and an angry force user.

Sparks flew all over the corridor when blaster bolts impacted on the durasteel walls and ceilings, either by the exquisite bladework of the lord or the stray shot from an unlucky rebel soldier. The courier holding the data disk banged against the blast door's viewport, attempting to garner the attention of one of the many rebels loading into a docked ship trying to escape.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Red lights danced across the virtual space before The Grand Admiral. Small, circular indicators that hovered over the holographic representations of the enemy ships his fleet was in the process of destroying in its entirety. The end of the battle was drawing ever closer and he would see to it that his name was the one which lived in glory this day. How powerful a reminder of his potential it would be to have his name go down in history as the one would conquered the rebel fleets. Visions of his own future success distracted him, though he was still alert to the situation at hand.

"Prepare a salvo" he serenaded in an oddly distant euphoria, "turbo lasers fire three seconds ahead of missiles." the sudden flicker of the weakened shields would theoretically be enough to allow the warheads to slip right by and impact the hull.

Classical Coruscanti music sang sweetly in his head as he raised a gentle finger into the air and with a sigh of utter pleasure, The Grand Admiral gave the order.

"Fire"

 

[Kira Vaal]

She had not realised the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. Indeed none in the cockpit had noticed hers, or their own as the radio continued to blurt out scattered communications from the Rebel Fleet.

“There are too many of them.”
“Watkins!”
“I’m Hit.”
“ARGGH.”

“I’m going to turn it off.” Alasdair reached to switch off the communicator but was stayed for a moment by Kira.

“No.” She swallowed hard. “We need to hear this. This, all of this is for us.”

Alasdair moved his hand away.

“What the frakk is that?” Kira pointed towards a ping on the scanner, something clearly pulling from subsystems that she had never seen used. “Why is it indicating a rundown on that…”
“Star Destroyer coming out of hyperspace. It’s already marked?” Alasdair shot back and almost got lost in Charlwook’s grumbles. “Their trying to lock already.”

“Then let’s get out of here.” Kira rolled the Falcon and moved to retreat. “Get me an angle.”

“I’ve got something.”

“Where too?”

“I don’t know. DO YOU REALLY CARE!”

“Hit it.”

The ship lurched and strained.

Then was gone, the white surrounds of Hyperspace leaving the Rebel Fleet to it’s fate.

The tears really did start to roll.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

First, the turbolasers arched through the void, then the red glow of the concussion missiles came tearing through the glow left behind. The shields of the rebel ships flared as the lasers pelted them and in between the rapid refresh cycles, the concussion missiles slipped through without pause. Shimmering hulls turned to red, molten slag as explosions shattered durasteel and incinerated crewmen. The molten shrapnel was thrown through space, dozens of rebel ships turned to little more than dust and fire by the Imperial missiles.

"Confirmed...twelve...thirteen...fourteen Rebel ships slagged, Grand Admiral."

Irridius didn't answer, instead, he quietly hummed to himself and watched the slag disappear into the icy hallow. Soon the fleet would destroy the rest of rebel ships and the sector would be theirs.

 

[Vrapir Detta]

Detta used whatever energy he had left to reach the nearest position controlled by Imperial troops. Of the five he had aided, only three made it. Detta panted as he laid back into the cover of a stormtrooper who had been drawing the fire of the rebel positions. Under the sand covered helmet, Detta closed his eyes and tried not to think about what he had just been witness too. In a matter of only half of an hour, the entire platoon he had been integrated with, then trained and bonded with, had all been killed in what could only be defined as unglorious. All that propaganda he had been fed about taking the good fight to those who wished to bring anarchy and disorder, felt like utter sewage to Detta now.

Looking over the crate, he spied whatever positions he could before enemy fire spotted his white top and took their shots. He raised his carbine over his head and fired randomly into the enemy area. Quickly, his new aquantaince forced his hand down and shouted, "Woah woah woah, hold your fire. Don't waste your ammo, we are stranded out here until the third gets here with our reinforcements." Looking up to this holdout stormtrooper, Detta replied, "We are the third!" The unnamed stormtrooper swore, "Karking hell!" Firing off a few sporadic plasma bolts in anger.