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Objective: Not die part 2 Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Leo Vandermolen"], [member="John Shepherd"], [member=Nawago], [member="Sanya Val Swift"] Enemies: Almost everything
Finally dug out from a cold, snowy grave, Joza shook the white crystals from her hair. The Duraglove kept her body warm, but only the parts where it covered—her head protection had been misplaced in the crash. Still, she knew better than to argue with Bantam as he ran off. She caught some sort of glimpse in his eye, something ebbing from him that hinted at how serious whatever was going on inside his head was. “Careful out there, Bryce!” She called, lifting herself from the snow and going about checking on the others.
While they were gathering up what they could, a thunderous explosion sounded from the near direction of Outpost Veers. Chunks of frozen earth and ice were sent jutting up into the air like a geyser from the force of the simultaneous detonation of the tunnels running under Veers, the ground shaking violently even from where the Coalition was picking themselves up. While they were not directly within the blast radius, pieces of shrapnel still found their way to the crash site, striking the damaged hull of the ship and speckling the snow with dirt and small chunks of ice. All she could do was hope that Bryce hadn’t made it that far in yet.
Whatever was going on, they should probably get out of the way before Force knows what else blows up. Luckily, Sanya had been circling above and was currently lower in an effort to aid the survivors. “We can probably manage, S. Thank you for the pickup.” She responded through her wristcom. “Afraid we’re going to have to ask you to bring us to the wampa caves a bit further up.” Glancing back at the ship debris, she continued to speak. “But I think I’ve got something that’ll keep you toasty warm.”
The protective bubble disappeared. Thin lips frowned. Helmet to her thinsuit sealed. #protection Vexen's voice came over their suit's shared comms. Mind that remained plugged into the station through mechu-deru recoiled suddenly but did not retreat. She worked on protecting them from that heat and sealing off those vents.
Grav-booted feet walked clunkily and clumsily along the grated-flooring of that level.
#Imissmyconverse
"We've got bigger problems. There's a virus in the system. Something foreign but...," the blonde moved over to some hardware in engineering. The master technopath had hopes of taking over the station's controls swiftly and as peacefully as possible. If she concentrated long enough and had some strength from the others through the force she just might be able to still do that.
But there wasn't enough time. #potentially
Another thought slowly wormed its way into her head, past her craving for a snack of BBQ chips.
"We don't need what the virus erased," she breathed, looking around. "We have everything right here. Vexen or Ipsy. Can one of you reach our fleet? We need to tell them we're about to move this station."
And there, for one who could never sense other presences in the force, she sensed a few pinpricks of like-minded force-users, others with the talent of mechu-deru. Like-minded souls. #fellownerds Mind reached out shyly. The speckled-blonde was still an introvert - even during high-stake missions. Her aim? Allyson and Keric.
'Spark Finn with the Alliance. Um....sorry for the intrusion. We're in Engineering. Can you um...help me? If we work together. I think we can,'
"Jump this station," she finished aloud, still projecting that last thought, hopefully, into Allyson and Keric's minds.
Objective: To the Wampa caves
Allies: Galactic Alliance | [member="Leo Vandermolen"] | [member="John Shepherd"] | [member="Sanya Val Swift"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"]
Enemies: A lot of things on this planet
Almost as if fate was shining the brightest on them, it seemed like an avalanche wasn't going to be the cause of their death on that day. In their time of need, Sanya's group a ships swooped in and provided them with the means out of the situation and an opportunity to get back to their task. It was likely that the idea of posing as dancers was out of the window, but at least they could just head straight to the wampas. He looked into the gunner's cockpit with a concerned look on his face. "I think we'll have to do a bit more than just squeeze in. If one of us doesn't die of suffocation by the time we get there, it'll be a miracle."
Nawago made sure to enter the small area first, hoping to take up as much of the little space as possible. He hadn't spent hours grooming his fur for it to just become messy and disorganized again. It was a one in a lifetime moment, and he was starting to enjoy cleanliness for once. With every passing day, traits of his actual species were drifting away. At that point, he only hoped that his brothers and sisters would listen to him. Still, he believed that he was somewhat decent at using words to his advantage, especially considering the alternative for them was being skinned and turned into a coat.
FIS Kuragin
Family Tiff: [member="Cameron Centurion"]
Forgotten his training? No, just that Micah had other matters pertaining to Cameron, to Amore, to their entire family in the forefront of his mind. That was one of his chinks in his armor. His family. His friends. They came first. Right now, that was Cameron, and perhaps the Talith had foolishly believed that it wouldn't come to blows that fast. It wasn't a matter of if, but when.
There was a shift in his uncle, one the Talith could feel as much as it was familiar.
The flex of the Force went out, and like two powerful Force entities, their wills hammered out through the ether and went crashing into each other. There was predictability in Micah's decisions. The desire to prevent harm when he could avoid it. In this case, those of the soldiers around him.
A small tick of a nerve jerked along the stubble of his lower jaw, the helm he wore shielding the flex of determination upon his expression, taking upon himself the counter to mentally do his best to shove back at his uncle and prevent what he intended. A powerful thrust of the Force followed by Micah taking a step towards his uncle, sword in hand, a flex of his wrist within its massive weight.
[ Get out now. ]came to Micah's order towards the rest of the soldiers. He wasn't fooling himself. Cameron was very powerful in the Force. It wouldn't be a game with his uncle. There would be no holding back.
[ Death may be part of life but so is grief.] he shot back at his uncle, those amber eyes narrowing upon the dominant figure of the man who had let him and his siblings climb all over him when they were younger.
There was truth to his words. Even Micah could tell that.
[ We are not leaving this station. Not yet. ] If there was one thing the Talith learned in training was that lengthy speeches were the death of others.
[ But we will. ] there was no warning, just action. A crossing of the distance to take advantage of any loss of balance to strike at his uncle's side.
[ So, why not come home with me?]
What a strange conversation to have for any observer, but meant as genuinely as the attack that sought to incapacitate Cameron. Micah might be attacking his uncle, but that didn't stop him from loving him any less.
Objective: Save more than Wampa... Target FO shuttle
Allies:GA Officially [member="John Shepherd"] | [member="Nawago"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Leo Vandermolen"] | [member="Sanya Val Swift"] (Others with GA characters)
Enemies: Time...
Theme X <--- ok we begin the seriousness...
The force was doing funny things to him today. What started out as you standard, half baked ORC infiltration mission had taken more turns than a drunken side winder over hot sand. He remembers low thunder under his feet. The feeling of he body being thrown up into the air and the weightless feeling of free fall back to hoth. Finally their was the pain when his body impacted back down and his put will to remain conscious. Most if his kit had been ripped from him save his jacket and the saber he still cluthed in his modified hand, [member="Ara Ren"] 's saber...
Right now he wanted to rest, his body hurt in all the usual places and some new ones. Taking an unexpected flight and a crash landing will do that to ya. As Bryce fought to move his mind wanted for a brief second to another. He saw life fading to black, not his own, but another. In a sting of visions, why did they call to him. Why did he have this strong link to one he barely knew?.. Why was this planet so fething cold!
Reality slapped him in the face and he forced himself to sit up. Looking over his frame he saw he was saken but not dismembered. This was a good thing and he decided to not continue to push his luck by just waiting for more misery. Instead he made his way up the now rubble covered slops of Outpost Veers to a remote part near the southern entrance. Bryce watched as the engines of war brought their sacrifices to the gods of blood. Men and women of courage and belief went as one another with the aims to end each other. Like hundreds of candles in the wind he watched as one by one they extinguished themselves. War was such a worthless thing but in the realities of the galaxy and all to common event.
Just beyond the lines of war he saw a shuttle pad with First order Upsilon class birds waiting for orders. Without another option to get off world he needed to try to procure one, questions was how...
The slingshot around Indellian served more than a purpose; the Vekker Class Battle Cruiser was already a very fast craft. It was made to dive in and quickly into battle fast and hard. Commander Varan knew this and that is why she wanted to get as much distance covered so that they could be an effective weapon.
"What do we got?" came her inquiry as the ship cleared through the right side of the planet, once again at full view of what lay ahead. Of course, those First Order vessels that maintained stealth or were hidden away in the nebula wouldn't ping on the Eriadu's sensors, but she could get a good grasp of the situation from the vessels currently engaging.
"Ma'am, it appears to be a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer." the Galactic Alliance had seen this class of ship before in previous battles, perhaps, this very ship.
"Wait, is that the Malice?"
"From Skor?" there had been a particular open comm speech that many had caught then.
"So it is."
"Commander, incoming message from Admiral Marrow." flicking her seemingly feline gaze, she gave a nod, "Patch it through."
"Excellent, Commander Varan, I believe it is time to bring the thunder.We are sending current fleet compliments, along with priority targets. Good hunting."
"We have the priority targets." streams of data came in, flickering to life in front of the holoscreen where Maira stood. Her nose gave a small twitch in the deep well of her thoughts.
"Which one is our closest?" a few taps of the keys and the screen brought up the DRS Kaga, the FW Impellor-class Battle Carrier.
"Here, Commander." a swipe and flex of fingers and the great prong wedge shape came up on the feed.
"It's a hefty girl, but she doesn't seem to be moving fast. No way a ship that size can maneuver like we can." a pause and then, "She appears to be moving forward, our sensors can pick up her movement and by her current direction, it will take time for her to switch."
"Has she engaged anyone?"
"Not that I can see so far, Ma'am."
The Commander gave a small grin.
"Then let's take advantage of that." turning to the rest, " Calculate our distance and increase our speed. I want our trajectory to intercept with hers. Get us in range to use the Pee-Bee-Oh-El Ammunition with our mass drivers."
"Aye, Commander!" the bridge was a flurry of activity as they did just that. The calculations and trajectory were quickly processed for the Kaga, ([member="Aedan Miles"]). Soon, they would
With blinding speed enhanced by the slingshot around the planet, Eriadu's Fist would bore down fast upon the Kaga. At this speed, they would be within effective range to use the PBOL ammunition in their mass drivers.
"Ready."
Perhaps Aeden's Battle meditation may give him the heads up, or maybe not. As it was, Battle Meditation wouldn't save him from the quickly approaching wrath of the Vekker-Class that was aiming to fire its twenty batteries of mass drivers of PBOL- ammunition to stick and freeze to the Kaga's EMNERA Hull near the aft section.
"FIRE!" came the command as soon as they were within range, belching out the first attempt of an attack.
Slingshot complete around the planet and using the omph in speed to quickly get into the playing field
Locking onto Aeden Mile's Kaga's aft section and once within range, firing 20 mass driver batteries near his aft section with hull freezing PBOL Ammunition.
Location: Ison Corridor - Indellian Gateway - Indellian Objective: Scatter the Foe. Reclaim the Corridor. Allies: The First Order, The Galactic Empire, [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], [member="Ashin Varanin"], @T'yr Dellos, [member="Aedan Miles"] Enemies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Zark"], [member="Alexandra Morrow"], [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Silara Varis"], [member="Rick Kaloo"], [member="Maira Varan"] Taskforce Composition: FIV Nolantia, FIV Virtue Of Orpheus, FIV Blade of the Covenant, FIV Pious Fervour, FIV Spirit of Justice, (1,102m / 6,000m.)
Directly Engaging: [member="Alexandra Morrow"] and the ANS 'Argent Dawn'
"If your battle plan's working, it's probably a trap."
- On Military Matters, by Kolton Phae. Sourced from The Traitor's Hand, Chapter 13, Page 649.
With his hands clasped firmly behind his back, Captain Veers watched as the forward viewports of his command bridge filled with blinding, and brilliant lights of coalesced emerald and sapphire lightning. Flowers of fire blossomed as a myriad of projectiles detonated, either washing against the projected deflector shield’s energetic corona or shot out of the void by the various anti-projectile and point defense weapons. It was a hauntingly beautiful sight. Were the danger permeating the situation removed, Achim would’ve found himself enthralled by the scene that played out before him. The devilish dance of projectile interception patterns, entwined with the vectors of predicted particle trajectories. His clasped hands tightened as the man’s mind was drawn forth from the moment, and pulled back to reality by the sounds of a deafening warning siren. Swiveling about on the spot, the Captain began demanding answers - wanting to know what the source of that blasted alarm was.
“Sensors are reporting Javelin cannons spooling up and garnering a target locus!”
Javelins. The First Order had heard stories of these devastating, if not archaic weapons after they had returned triumphant from above the skies of Castameer. Those that had borne witness to these formidable weapons had carried the stories of the carnage left in their wake. Massive warships, cored through by ferromagnetic rounds discharged at superluminal speeds and left to bleed their precious atmosphere out into the void. In the years that had followed the Order’s victory of the Sith Remnant, Central Command had crafted nearly a thousand counters to such deadly weapons but had yet to test them against the Alliance. Here, as they made their incursion into the depths of Imperial territory, there was no better time than the present to give one of these stratagems a chance. Should it not prove up to par, well - it was doubtful that they would have the opportunity to try again.
As the warning klaxons blared louder and louder, Captain Veers fought against his vessel as he projected his voice across the dim of the command deck, garnering the attention of one of his technicians calmly operating a terminal nearby. There was little that they could do to halt the terminal velocity of such impressively ancient weapons, due to the Newtonian nature of physics and the lack of gravitational fields to warp the munitions vector. However, that was where the second of the three laws would come into effect. They wouldn’t be able to deny the enemy of their weapon, and it’s warship stopping power, merely redirect it towards another nuisance that was proving quite troublesome.
“Angle the dorsal deflector screens, and ready the pressor beams,” He said aloud with booming clarity, as the warning sirens began to fade off into the distance. “Rotate the emitters five degrees towards our port side, and be ready to active the beam on my command.”
He waited. He waited for the wordless cry of alarm from one of his tactical advisors to ring out across the clamour. He waited. When it came, there was no momentary hesitation as the words translated within his mind. They could ill-afford the margin of error that complacency spawned. As the enemy vessel spat forth it’s ship-killing munitions; the pressor beams filled the formerly vacant section within the void mere seconds after they were launched from the magnetic coils. It couldn't have been timed more perfectly, as not only was the margin for a human’s reaction time accounted for but the velocity in which these ancient slugs sped across the bespeckled curtain of night too. In the blink of an eye, as the beam pulsated out into the darkness, the six ferromagnetic slugs were cast from their original vector - which would’ve cored through the Vanquisher as it were paper trying to stop a heated knife - and sent along a different path. With the distance factored into calculations, along with the positioning and projected vector that the Nolantia was taking after it had made its reversion from Hyperspace, the altered correction was minor. Enough to stave off the worst of what would’ve happened, but not enough to escape the barrage unscathed.
The first ferromagnetic slug and the second one thereafter spiraled off into the curtain of night - a threat that would damn some poor soul, or world, far into the future. The third skimmed across the projected particle shield’s energetic corona and was vaporized instantaneously as the arcane device worked it’s magic to deny the hostile projectile access to the metallic bounty beneath. The fourth had suffered the same fate as the slug previous but smashed into the deflector shield closer to the edge of the massive Destroyer. The fifth had busted through the vessel’s already weakened barrier, punching through the exterior plating of the Vanquisher - venting several decks of their pressure and yanking nearly a dozen crewmen into the void in the process. As the sixth and final ferromagnetic slug tore through the Nolantia, prying the wound wider with Newtonian force, the massive destroyer bled men and material into the void. It consigned the debris to scatter across the interior of their deflector shields, as the energetic barrier began to collapse in that sector. They were wounded, and their nose was bloodied, but the Nolantia would remain operational for the time being.
Gritting his teeth, as the Captain recovered his composure, Achim began clamouring after a damage report. He wanted to know how many souls were lost this day. Not because he actually cared, but because the man wanted to know how many soldiers and enlisted personnel he would have to replace - should they make it out of this battle in one piece. Let his subordinates believe that he cared. Let them think he held their safety and well-being in the highest regard. They were nothing more than chaff to him; expendable in the grandest sense. As the report was handed off to the good Captain, the man heard a hoarse roar in the background, nearly drawing his attention away from the crystalline dataslate. The sound was bellowed forth from his executive officer, who had taken note of enemy fighters making an attack run on their aft section - no doubt aiming for the command tower and seeking to deprive the Nolantia of its ability to combat their impending doom effectively.
That, however, would not be the case this day as the Pious Fervour and the Spirit of Justice began counteracting this foolish attack run. Had the enemy elected to engage the Star Destroyer in squadrons, rather than en-masse, they would’ve had a greater chance of survivability and success on their suicide run. With that said, the dedicated Anti-starfighter Corvettes had filled the void with a blistering hail of fire from a multitude of turrets and projectile launchers - seeking to deny these bombers of their brief moment of glory. While they were considerably less impressive than the emplacements on the two Mukhtiar’s, the point defense lasers on the Nolantia’s strived to add their pulsing beams into the fray. Should those brave pilots seek to continue upon their fated path, it was doubtful that they would see their mission complete and live to tell the tale.
After he had read his report, Achim casually tossed the dataslate to a passing subordinate and refocused on the battle at hand. His eyes darted towards the slowly vanishing panorama of the Excubitor, as the Vanquisher brought its portside weapons to bear once again. He saw that much of its weaponry was diverted towards engaging the three vessels that hung at a distance under that battlecruisers ventral, starboard side. There was an unseen escort cruiser that had found itself coming about, drifting underneath the massive battlecruiser and swinging towards the Vanquisher’s escort corvettes. It wasn’t the wisest of maneuvers, but the good Captain had to give the vessel’s commander some credit. He, if the Captain of the Gravitational Anomaly was indeed a male, had a pair of stones larger than an entire herd of Nabooian Nerf.
“Long-range Turbolasers,” Captain Veers called out. “Target the Pocket Carrier, and show them the error of their ways.”
With a murmur of acknowledgment, the order was passed along down the chain of command, and processed with ease. Within seconds, the scorching hail of turbolaser fire had paused in its furious exchange as several turrets swung towards their newest victim. There was a pause as the Star Destroyer’s targeting computers had calculated the projected path the pocket carrier would take, and acquired nearly a dozen firing solutions. When the light pulsed a soft green, the officer was given the order to open fire and carried out the task with the twinned sensations of pleasure and pride. Twelve of the Nolantia’s port side long-range, kyber-crystal enhanced turbolasers spat forth a volley of nuclear fire, intent on engulfing the small warship with unfettered fury of a Star Destroyer scorned. Also, as overkill was not in Achim’s vocabulary, the Captain had ordered Seven of their proton torpedoes be launched at the ANS Gravitational Anomaly - seeking to leave no survivors should any of their munitions manage to strike their mark.
That was when the impossible happened. The Excubitor winked out of reality with a flicker of pseudomotion and reappeared leagues away - seeking to engage another foe. When Achim had been informed as to where that massive vessel had resurfaced, he began to wonder if their enemy had thought they were unworthy. That was of little consequence, the Battlecruiser had left it’s escort to die in vain and would soon face the full fury of the Malice, and it’s comrades. They had gone from one trap to another. Casting the thought aside with a subtle, nigh-imperceptible shake of his head, the Captain refocused on the battle afore him. Reports were coming in from every sector that more and more Alliance warships had somehow made their way through the Ison Corridor and deeper into Imperial held territory. While that would’ve been troubling news, the Captain of the Nolantia wasn’t concerned. When they had claimed victory here and left the Alliance forces stranded within the corridor, it would only be a matter of time until they were hunted down and destroyed.
With one tumultuous battle, their victory would be assured.
Before the enemy vessel, tagged as the Gravitational Anomaly had been dealt with, the Nolantia’s sensors had detected a sudden spike of power in a neighbouring vessel - one that had been marked out as the Argent Dawn. It turned with a speed that belied its size and defied all preconceived notion of believability. Which had sparked the Captain to raise an intrigued eyebrow, allowing him the time to delve into the depths of his mind, wondering what allowed that massive punch-dagger like vessel to move with such wallowing grace. Had space operated similarly as the ancient ocean-faring wars fought by savages whom still thought their world was at the centre of their solar system, the Argent Dawn’s projected path would’ve brought them on a parallel vector as the Nolantia. Allowing the larger vessel to tear apart the slightly smaller destroyer with relative ease. However, space was a limitless and entirely three-dimensional warzone. When the Procurator Battlecruiser had fled their direct fields of fire, Achim had predicted that the nearest enemy vessel would seek to alleviate some of the pressure from their allies - drawing their fire in the process. It was why he had allowed the destroyer to continue on its downwards vector, dropping several spherical planes as it sailed through the sea of infinite black. That would permit the Star Destroyer to eventually sweep in from underneath this newly discovered technological terror, and tear at its starboard ventral shields - seeking to gut the massive beast with its dorsal guns on the port side.
Meanwhile, as the flagship of Achim’s taskforce swung about to engage a new foe, the two remaining vessels of the flotilla had slowly moved towards the edge of the nebula. They were shrouded from their own sensors, and that of their foes until they had reached the edge - where the ionic and astronavigational disturbances were less dense. When they had emerged from the smear of sickly gases, they had found themselves far away from their kin. Their path had been set in stone from the very beginning, and due to the distance and inability to be detected until this moment, they were grossly unaffected by the blistering hail of fire that had been supposedly meant for them. There were several close calls, as three of the long-range particle bolts had ripples across the curvature of their reactivated deflector screens, but the two Halberd’s were relatively unharmed. With a coruscating trail of ionic energy crawling over their shields, the Virtue of Orpheus and it’s sister ship, the Blade of the Covenant, began aligning their primary batteries with the projected path of the Argent Dawn - intent on baptizing the enemy vessel in the fires of hell itself.
Summary of Actions:
Portside Hull Integrity Compromised. Seventeen Decks Exposed to the Void. Thirty-six Crewmen vented. Damage Control teams enroute.
Retroactive damage to the Excubitor.(Call if you wish, this is more filler for story purposes.)
FIV Pious Fervour and FIV Spirit of Justice engage the mass of Y-wing’s, along with the Aft PDC’s.
FIV Nolantia engages ANS Gravitational Anomaly. Twelve Long-range, Kyber-crystal Enhanced Turbolasers, and Seven Proton Torpedoes. Close Proximity.
FIV Nolantia moves to engage the ANS Argent Dawn, opens fire with Dorsal weapons against ventral shielding.
FIV Virtue of Orpheus and Blade of the Covenant begin calculating firing solutions on the Argent Dawn. Minor shield damage, but due to the nebula the two artillery frigates were unable to be detected. Will resolve the missile’s in the next post, due to time dilation.
Taskforce Nolantia.
FIV Nolantia - Imperial Command Line - Hull = 87% | Shields = 75% (Partial Port-side Compromise.)
FIV Virtue of Orpheus - Imperial Artillery Line - Hull = 100% | Shields = 95%
FIV Blade of the Covenant - Imperial Artillery Line - Hull = 100% | Shields = 96%
FIV Pious Fervour - Imperial Escort Line - Hull = 95% | Shields = 85%
FIV Spirit of Justice - Imperial Escort Line - Hull = 95% | Shields = 80%
Unless a blast door was over a meter thick, or made of rarer and tougher materials that could resist a lightsaber, it was going to stop a Jedi or Sith for that matter. A lightsaber meant that doors were nice, but if you were motivated enough, you could make a door within a door or through a wall. But, Taeli digressed as she was joined by Kaida and Shamira as the male Ren hit the ground before he got back to his feet and threw out a couple of incendiary grenades. A rush of flame roared towards them, fueled by the Ren's telekinetic force.
Kaida siphoned off the heat and flame as only one who had been trained as an elementalist could do, but even still, Taeli erected a barrier of Force energy around them to blunt what else made it through. It was uncomfortable, toasty even, but they would live. Taeli sensed the Eldorai woman channeling the energy from the attack and reaching out towards the male... just as she sensed the arrival of yet another Ren just a little bit ahead. Bloody buggering... well Gabriel was up ahead and she was certain that Kaida and Shamira could deal with the male Ren.
She did notice that the walkway had been damaged somewhat from the fire grenades, but as was the case with facilities being built to deal with heat, she wasn't too concerned yet about the walkway giving way. Still, they needed to wrap this up quickly, so Taeli launched her own sort of attack on the male Ren. Lightning crackled out from her free hand, green bolts arcing across to him. She was doing it more as a distraction, to give Kaida's telekinetic grip time to take hold perhaps and throw him to the unpleasantness below, but it was still a full force attack that if he didn't concentrate on defending himself... well he was going to be toasty. He would need to choose wisely.
Objective:Secure the Hilikan Incineration Facility.
What had been one problem had now become three and in the end, he had expected the tides to turn on him yet he had expected to meet them head on, not be taken completely by surprise which [member="Kaida Taldir"] had done so effectively as he'd passed her without even realizing it. His Grenades had managed to do the trick, or at-least would have had it only been [member="Taeli Raaf"] caught within it's path, instead the flames had been countered by some sort of Force projection, the natural energy of the fire fueling the second member of the Galactic Alliance as she retaliated with a precise and strengthened telekinetic hold around his throat, seeking to pull him from his foothold. In a sudden and desperate attempt, his aura in the force erupted around him, being drawn in upon his body and pooling all exterior focus away to protect himself from Kaida's control, utilizing his training in the ways of Tutaminis, Brennan sought to negate the power of her attack, though due to her experience and ability in using the Force, could not break the hold but only managed to elude being thrown from the catwalk, his left hand snapping again to the railing and this time trying to keep himself from falling before the charge of lightening that Taeli Raaf had thrown at him hit him full force within the chest, the surge of power throwing him backwards, tripping over his already stumbling steps and being pushed into a backwards roll, his body thrown through the air to bounce once while forks of lightening still enveloped him, the fabric beneath his armor melting into his flesh, his chest and face searing in immense pain, his hair across the left side of his face being burned away as scar tissue overtook the formerly unscathed appearance of the young adult; smoke took to the air around him as his body stopped against one of the far pillars, now away from the catwalk and having landed against the support beam once more on solid flooring, the durasteel and permacrete foundations before him a relief in how much colder they felt compared to the burning left side of his head, skin tearing away as he struggled to push himself off of the ground, his vision blinded in one eye, the color of his iris while once having been a deep brown, now paled as the electricity had burned away his nerve endings in and around it.
Pain, so much pain, it clouded everything. Rage consumed him, it was arguably the one thing keeping him from collapsing back down to the floor, a miracle in itself that his legs still managed to carry his weight, his instincts and refusal to give himself to the Jedi were far stronger than his common sense, the three that stood before him still within range of ensuing combat, would likely be his end. This was the eventual path for all Knights of Ren, the oath that they took, that some were indoctrinated to one day fulfill, giving everything to the First Order, their past, present and future, sacrificing all that they were in the pursuit of Order to a chaotic galaxy, the Supreme Leaders vision, one that would go on far beyond the expiration of his life. These Jedi would not understand, they could not possibly comprehend something to perfect, to ingrained in their individuality, their dogmatic and ignorant ideals were far to restricting to know relate to the collective that he was willing to die for. This was the defining aspect that separated the Knights of Ren from the Sith, personal ambitions were set aside, true and selfless acts would see the First Order's victory in this galaxy. A necessary Dictatorship for the divine leadership that would ensure the protection of their people, the preservation of peace within their territories and the uncompromising will to step into the face of undeniable fatality for those the Ren gave their utmost loyalty.
The SB-U01 Wrist Datapad's screen flickered before sparks erupted against his wrist, the device shorting out and flames igniting within causing the overlay to melt, forcing Brennan to tear it from his forearm taking with it burned skin and leather from the straps that had held it in place; sneering under his breath and through clenched teeth, he glared back up through the smoke that still wisped about his form. The control center was behind him now, not physically but mentally. Half of the personnel that had infiltrated stood right before him and though he was in no good place to make a stand, the risks were worth taking for the time that it might give the troops as well as those within the facility still fighting for the First Order as he was. [member="Val Kordova"] and [member="Mishel Ren"] still had the time and the ability to keep the mission from failing, to keep the station from falling into enemy hands...
Staggered in breath, he slowly stepped out from the shadow of the upper floor, the enclosed corridor that led to the next facility blocking out the light from the high roof of the plant, he grimaced as it blinded him some, the eyes and flesh around his eyes being exposed, stinging as they watered and invoking a dry growl of defiance against his own torment, his throat parched and feeling as if some of the heat had dug deep down into his esophagus. Swapping hands for his lightsaber, he took it into his left and then extended his right, the ring upon his index finger now surrounded by loose skin that threatened to peel away began to glow, the Talisman of Calling being willed into initiation, summoning within a sudden black mist that seemed to appear out of nothingness, the Sith Dirk of which had been created and then sacrificed into the spiritual plain that the talisman was designed to call forth, the sub-realm blade that had been crafted with a very violent and effective venom, the Blood Boiler Poison also known to the Sith Order of old.
If he was going to die for the First Order, then he was prepared to show these Jedi just how dangerous a Disciple of Ren could truly be. A title given not out of ability nor experience but utter devotion, a true fanatic, arguably mentally impaired but none the less faithful to the Order; he looked upon what seemed to be the final moments of life with a burning smirk and the wretched scent of death in the air.
Location: Space Station – Deck B – Some Hallway
Allies: GA, [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Vexen"] [member="Spark Finn"] [member="Deacon"] [member="Keric Dynt"][member="Ipsy"]
Enemies: FO, [member="Magnus Ren"] [member="Aralu Sar"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] etc
Objective: Escape said hallway and Find the homies
Equipment: SI-HD Armor,Multi-Weapon Elite Model tool, a pair of blasters with extra energy cells, Vital Communication Security Monitor First Order Issued (Loot from incapacitated Trooper)
Things were getting toasty. Never a good thing for Allyson, she hated being overly warm and extremely cold – so these weren’t the most ideal settings for her. Though hanging out with Kaili on different planets she had been able to train her mind to focus under situations she really didn’t like. Taking a deep breath, she had begun to tap away at the panel when suddenly everything went dead. Blinking, Allyson mouthed the word no and then fought the urge to punch the panel.
Lucky for her, there was another around that used the force such as she. She wondered if because of their skills and the way their brains were wired to the force, they could feel each other. This was an experience that she had only felt with Kaili. Blinking quickly, she heard the message, but was unable to respond beyond a quick gurgled response through the force of okay.
Looking back towards Deacon she smiled. “We have friends. They’re in the engineering section of the ship. We must get there. Although, everything is basically shut down. From what I gathered – we need to manually do it all – like raise the doors and such.” An even wider grin spread across the young techno-student, “But we have the Force or whatever it is I can do.” Looking towards the panel that had died on her, she placed her hand against it getting a feel for the station. Inhaling, she focused her mind on the machine feeling every spark that it once had. The Force and Mechu Deru could breathe life into machines and at this moment computers. Exhaling, Allyson mentally downloaded the system she focused on and suddenly the little panel had life. It computed quickly as she continued to fuel it with the force. It would take a few moments, but she would be able to search for the other panels and location of the engineering room.
Through strained teeth, she chuckled, “Keep an eye out for me. Looking for a path…”
[member="Spark Finn"], who was connected on the other end would feel and sense Allyson in the system, searching for a way. Hopefully she could provide some help since they were needing each other in this mess that was created.
Location: Bespin, Hotel Suite Objective: Get our shet together Allies: [member="Jorg"], [member="Canal"] Oh Dear: [member="Irajah Ven"] Enemies: Time.
It was funny how things could go from rock-solid to complete shet in under five seconds.
One moment Canal confirmed that all their stuff was in the bags, which got a relieved sigh out of him and a frustrated glance from Trish in the I told you so vein. The next someone stepped through the door. At first Locke didn't pay attention. He had his hands full playing crowd-control and Jorg was on it already, but then the voice rang through the room and called him out by name.
Locke blinked, before shooting a look of warning at Trish and the others.
Then he turned around and saw the situation enfold: Jorg with his blaster aimed at Irajah, Irajah staring at him with what looked like righteous indignation, Canal with his hands-full trying to sort their equipment. Jorg seemed stressed and could end up causing problems. The grip on the blaster was steady though, which gave the SIS agent some hope this wouldn't devolve into a shooting gallery.
"Stay frosty, lady is a doctor with the Order, we don't kill non-combatants." In one move Locke put his hand on the blaster, his eyes locking with Jorg and then gently pushed it down a notch.
"Doc, we will be out of here in under five minutes, you take care of the civilians when we gone and we will get out of your hair, yeah?"
Hopefully everyone involved would see reason.
With a gaggle of panicked women behind them and them not wearing any of their equipment, this would turn into a massacre, if they didn't get their shet together.
Allies: FO Getting held at Gunpoint by: GA | [member="Elliot Locke"] [member="Jorg"] [member="Canal"] Objective: Track down the Evacuation Holdouts
Her eyes closed for a moment as if she were in pain.
He was with the GA. Of course he was. Maybe actually in, maybe just hired like [member="Ghorua the Shark"]. Didn't really matter.
Why were all of her friends always trying to kill each other?!
She wondered, briefly, if she could get her hand down to her comm, and double click for back up before the high strung one shot her in the head. She wondered, equally briefly, if that's what she wanted to do. She shelved it for now.
Irajah wasn't stupid. The gun pulled on her and she immediately stilled. Calm, her face neutral, it wasn't the first time a gun had been pulled on her, and it probably wouldn't be the last. She had been looking at Elliot, and while she didn't turn her head, hazel eyes tracked over to Jorg, to the gun in his hand, and back to his face. Slowly, she raised her hands, keeping them in the air away from the blaster pistols on her hips. The pair were set to stun, but they couldn't know that and she really would rather avoid wiping out Bespin because some chowderhead was trigger happy and on edge.
She stepped away from the door, slowly, as instructed, but she didn't lay down. That wasn't happening.
"Out of my hair? And into whose, Elliot? That's the thing about being a doctor- I tend to have a general aversion to people getting shot, no matter what side they're on. More work for me, you know? And I've got friends out there."
LOCATION: Ison Corridor OBJECTIVE: Control the Corridor ALLIES: [member="zark"], [member="cathul thuku"], [member="silara varis"], [member="maira varan"]Galactic Alliance, Freedom ENEMIES: [member="achim veers"], [member="carlyle rausgeber"], [member="aedan miles"], [member="t'yr dellos"], First Order, Fascism UNKNOWN: [member="ashin varanin"]
ENGAGING: [member="carlyle rausgeber"] (with Resolute, Firebird, and Remember Eriadu), [member="achim veers"] (with Argent Dawn) and [member="t'yr dellos"] (with Ironclad and Stormwall)
FLEET
ANS Argent Dawn - Hull | Shields (Engaging Achim Veers Nolantia) PFS Ironclad - Hull | Shields(Engaging T'yr) PFS Stormwall - Hull | Shields (Engaging T'yr) ANS Resolute - Hull | Shields (Firing at Carlyle's FIV Malice) ANS Firebird - Hull | Shields(Firing at Carlyle's FIV Malice) ANS Remember Eriadu - Hull | Shields(Firing at Carlyle's FIV Malice)
"Incoming fire, multiple vectors." Her chief of staff said, the edge in his voice becoming slightly sharper. The Argent Dawn had gone through rigorous testing, but you never knew how systems would shape up under combat conditions until you took them into combat. "We've drawn the attention of the Nolantia and a couple escorts it looks like."
"Fire aft!" Came a voice from the tactical station, as T'yr's stealth ship decloaked and began to assault the Argent Dawn's rear.
The shields took damage, and the retribution shields discharged in two directions. Aft of the Argent Dawn, T'yr's ship would receive the backlash along the same vector that the maser weapons had attacked on. Underneath, the Nolantia would receive the same punishment automatically as it's weapons sought to carve out the Dawn's belly.
"Retribution shield is recharging, minimal damage to primary defense fields..." The Chief of staff reported. "Nothing got through to the hull yet."
Alexandra nodded, looking at the plot before her with her brow furrowed in thought.
"Report from Ironclad and Stormwall, they took a torpedo attack to the teeth. Stormwall has some hull damage." The communications officer reported.
"Stormwal and Ironclad, engage the ship to our aft, scan for weaknesses and employ them. Stay mobile. Argent Dawn will focus fire on the Nolantia. How are our detached units doing?" Alexandra ordered.
"The Malice is engaging several ships at once, they've taken moderate damage to their shields, with Firebird's at heavy damage. They've closed to medium range and are continuing to fire." The communications officer reported back.
"Have the Resolute move inward of the formation to take more of the focus, have them try to maneuver behind the Malice."
"Aye ma'am."
The Scythe Class heavy cruiser, Resolute, moved closer to the Malice, under the command of Carlyle Rausgeber, as the entire formation of three ships sought for the coveted up the kilt shot at the Malice's engines. The fighters from the Resolute's compliment maintained close support, that captain preferring to use them defensively.
As the ISNS Maalraas Nobilismoved to engage the Argent Dawn, the Ironclad and Stormwall moved to begin circling the ship, firing all batteries into the ship from different vectors. Point defense had taken out some of the torpedoes that the ship had fired at them, with the shields holding off most of the rest. The Stormwall had one torpedo pierce through enough to explode and damage the hull. Crews were working to repair the damage, but sensors would show a reduced sensor emission from the ship, as sensor arrays were scoured off in the damage. Ironclad adapted, feeding as much sensor data over the Alliance tactical net as it could.
The Argent Dawn was designed to take a beating, it's shielding and hull design were considered to be the extreme of current technology. While they wouldn't last forever under the onslaught, for the moment they held steady. The retribution shields, notorious for being weak as shields, had discharged as they took damage, and now recharged from the ships secondary reactors. The power profile of the Argent Dawn would be in full view to ships in the area now as all reactors were brought into high output.
The ship maneuvered slightly as the Nolantia dove beneath. The ship canted down slightly, bringing a significant amount of it's extreme armament to bear on the flagship of Achim Veers. Following up on the strike from the retribution shielding, a sequence of fire went out, starting with the energy siphon striking out to latch onto the enemy's shields. It's purpose was to drain the enemy's shields and assist in recharging the Argent Dawn's shields with the siphoned energy. Next, the heavyweaponsemplacements (three links there) opened fire, striking out with significant power, all focused on the Nolantia.
Actions
1) Ironclad and Stormwall began to assault T'yr's ship
2) Argent Dawn focused fire on Achim Veers' Flagship
3) Resolute, Firebird, and Remember Eriadu move towards Carlyle's Malice's rear, continuing to fire all weapons from medium range
“Sir, detecting multiple objects breaking away from the Victory-class.”
Vilin tapped two buttons to bring a oversized holographic image of the wedge-shaped cruiser before him. Individual objects were tagged and tracked as they moved away from the hull rapidly.
“That’s not debris from an impact,” he murmured.
“Seventy percent certainty they are launching escape pods sir.”
Vilin didn’t even consciously acknowledge who had called that out. This didn’t seem to make sense. The destroyer was still battle worthy and just closing. They likely could have retreated from the field if they felt they were outmatched. Unless they had a use for the destroyer planned. He could see two potential options: they were planning on ramming one of their vessels, or they were going to blow the generator.
“Order the Dauntless to move closer towards the enemy and prepare tractor beams,” Vilin called.
“Aye sir!”
If they pressed on then at least they could pull them off course from ramming them head on. If they missed at high velocity there was a good chance they’d end up in the clouds of bespin, tumbling down until the pressure crushed their hull. Then his zoomed in display lit up. There were clear signs of a hyperspace engine powering up. Vilin brought up one hand and ran his fingers across his goatee. Now he was flummoxed. Drop escape pods and then leave.
His answer came in a flash. The sleek lines of the Victory-class vanished from his display and reappeared directly to the left of his vessel in realspace. That was an exceptionally precise micro-jump. Beyond anything he could have enacted himself.
“All port batteries open fire!” Vilin shouted. Space lit up as the numerous heavy batteries opened fire, green bolts lancing towards the ship.
“Sir detecting hyperspace reversions. Right on top of us. Now we’re getting our sensors jammed.”
Vilin looked to his displays. It was easy enough to get a rough bearing on the jamming signal. Sensors on one side of his vessel were obviously absorbing more power from the signal, as the hull of the ship attenuated it.
“Tell all gunnery teams to make best effort. We have visual on that destroyer and existing solutions, continue to fire. Cycle frequencies of scanners and start hopping on the comm channels. Narrow the bands to limit data if we have to. Reduce encryption protocols to account for reduced links if we have to.” The ships jamming were small and had reduced power output compared to the Viperous. If they were carrying out a broad spectrum jam they had to spread their power output across a range of frequencies. By limiting themselves to narrow bands the Viperous could put more power in that channel than a broad jam could match. By moving between frequencies quickly they hoped to prevent the enemy vessels from compensating.
The ship shuddered. Vilin rocked to one side in his chair. His cane clattered to the floor and rolled away from him. A marine quickly collected it. The shields were being struck by heavy bomber grade missiles as well as turbolasers.
“Stealth fighters?” he called out.
“Came from the direction of the jamming signal sir, no visuals on fighters. We haven’t got a targeting solution on them yet, just a rough heading from the jamming signal.”
“Order fighters to investigate and engage. I don’t care if you have to repeat that message over and over on different channels to get through, just get it through!” Vilin called, taking his cane back from the marine. She hastened back to her post.
Regardless of whether the message cut through or not, four squadrons moved to engage the new arrivals. Two squadrons of Dauntless-class X-Wings led the charge. Their heavy armour and sensor scramblers would try and keep the corvette’s point defences occupied whilst the K-Wings and D-Wings came in behind to unleash their fearsome armaments and VT-gatling cannons. The K-Wings and D-Wings used relatively simple rockets and bombs that didn't require a great deal of tracking and could be dumfired. However the X-Wings would be without the use of their proton torpedoes. There would be loss against the point defences, but a Starfighter squadron leader didn't shy away from a difficult fight. On top of that direct assault the enemy jammers now not only had to deal with frequency hopping and pushing power into multiple bands, but having vessels on multiple sides with required directing power in multiple directions.
Bridge of the Subversion.
“What’s caused the break in comms?” Amadgener asked in his deep, rumbling voice.
Beside him Tam, the ship's XO, checked his console. He was a softly spoken fondorian, a very different personality to the captain. Amadgener had read the word 'diplomatic’ in a book once and seemingly erased it from his mind.
“Looks like some e-war vessels jumped in close to the Viperous.” The SIS frigates were a long way from the action, but they were both equipped with advanced stealth and sensor systems. Right now they were focussed on the latter which meant they were obviously visible to the enemy but more than capable of cutting through some brute force jamming.
“What's Janes doing?” Amadgener asked. There was a clear note of disdain in his voice that was typically reserved for the brash SIS Wing Commander. “Can we bring up fighter support?”
“He's engaged sir, don't think we can retrieve them.”
“Very well, hold position and fire on the largest and most static of those four frigates. We've never had a chance to try the long gun.” The captain rumbled. He grinned. Tam thought it was an almost distribution visage to behold.
“That's on account of how much firing it gives us away sir. Preparing to fire.”
The long gun in question was a hypervelocity cannon that ran down the full 250m spine of both Subversion class frigates. In tandem they both opened fire on the Kata.
Xel, she'd lost sight of Xel on that last run. They had a whole squadron of bombers to watch each other's backs. Still. They wouldn't last long without some fighters. Alliance had some help in the air and right now, she had her own problems to deal with before she could help someone else.
Korr's voice trickled in her mind. The teen still couldn't help the little squirm in her seat. The force was still a bunch of weird, mystical wildness she was still trying to grasp. But her instincts in the cockpit has always been good and if she could trust those, even if they were tied to the force, she'd be okay. Or, she hoped.
The bait?
Freckled-nose scrunched up as her hazels strained through the HUD. The fighters were tricky. And coming in hot. Splitting.
::Gee, thanks Master. Taking this trust fall exercise dagum literally::
Would he feel the shakiness in her voice combined with that steely grit?
Shields were as high as they were gonna be. Fingers squeezed down on the ion cannons as she trusted in something that was hard for her to trust in. The force. And her master.
[SIZE=11pt]Location: Hoth - Outpost Veers[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Support the First Order[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Anora Shaw"] | [member="Arcana Altana"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | [member="Torian Pierce"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="TK-4261 Strain"] | [member="Shaydae Desmaris"] | [member="Chron Terix"] | [member="Hatori Ikari"] | [member="Arcana Altana"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: [member="Tomas Yarrow"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] | [member="Rusty"] | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"] | [member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Tsuki Aihara"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt](I hope I tagged everyone at Hoth, apologies if I missed you, there’s a lot going on! From now on I shall only be tagging those affected by my posts)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]They’d marched for hours on beasts of burden. They rode Tauntauns and Narglatch while the mighty Icetrompers pulled catapults. The distance the thundering of battle growing ever closer. The warning system hadn’t given them much time to prepare. They weren’t soldiers of the First Order but they knew how to fight. The wilderness of Hoth was harsh and unforgiving, it raised survivors, hunters, and today they’d use the skills this world had nurtured to bare against the Galactic Alliance.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Bamuf sat atop a Tauntaun near the front of the pack of his people, the Talz. The colonies here were relatively small compared with their holdings elsewhere in the galaxy but they had settled here, made it a home. The First Order had offered a mutually beneficial arrangement with the Talz settlers. The First Order gets a barren world turned into something profitable: people to be taxed and materials to mine, and the Talz gain protection from raiders and pirates. This arrangement was now jeopardised by the invaders. So they’d gathered what they could, mostly armed with primitive tools and set out to fight against the odds for the sake of their clan. Bamuf himself was an outsider even amongst his own kind. A survivor of a Hutt’s gladiator area of slaves, he was here by chance. At his side was a simple spear, on his back, a flame carbine. The flamethrower a parting ‘gift’ from his Hutt Master, the very thing which torched the slug’s guards. The clan had approached him for support, most of them had never even seen an off-worlder before outside of the First Order’s regularly broadcast newsreels so as the most combat experienced member of their race in the area, it was requested he take a lead.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Talz shivered and it wasn’t due to the biting wind of the frozen world. He was a loner by nature and here, he looked to his side, he was riding alongside the clan chief. The lives of so many somehow resting on his shoulders. Bamuf was tempted to turn back but as the blasts of battle entered his vision it was a reminder of how many more lives were counting on his people to fight. The soldiers of the First Order who had pledged to protect them from the pirate scum, the likes of which tore him from his family into slavery so long ago, were giving their lives in defence of Hoth. The Talz must do their part for the Empire who took them in, even if the price was steep. Bamuf couldn’t speak for the motivations of the others but to him, the First Order was what societies had to be. Strong, efficient, lawful and powerful. If only he had been raised within their borders, the hardships of his life would never have occurred. Bamuf would still have a family. Since arriving on Hoth, the Talz had eagerly listened to the broadcasts from newsreaders on Avalonia telling of the strength of their Empire and of their Supreme Leader. Equally, he had heard tales of their foes. Hypocritical warmongers who deployed armies of mercenaries, psychopaths and war criminals to fight for them in the name of so-called liberation.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Rightly or wrongly, he believed every word.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The primitive Talz war machine arrived at an icy outcrop overlooking the battle in front of Outpost Veers. He could see the telltale signs of a recent avalanche covering the field, who knew how many souls were buried beneath the ice?[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“<We must move swiftly,>” Bamuf told the clan chief at his side. A quick glance at the other Talz told him they were in awe and fear. Their first time in a real battle. But there could be no pause. He pulled out his holo binoculars from the satchel strapped to his Tauntaun and scanned the battlefield for targets.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“<Enemy artillery!>” He called out in his native tongue. “<Prime the catapults!>” The simplistic weaponry creaked as it was loaded with large chunks of jagged icy rocks. “<Fire together on that target!>” A catapult barrage would converge upon the Alliance’s ([member="Rusty"]) position.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“<Now!>” Bamuf turned to the rest of the clan, “<While we have the momentum of surprise, charge!>”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Talz descended upon the battle in large numbers, many of them riding Tauntauns or Narglatch to swiftly strike against Alliance forces. The Alliance may think that their technology will win them the day, but Bamuf expected the Empire thought something similar at Endor all those years ago.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]On his part, Bamuf’s Tauntaun dashed across the snow and ice as the Talz rider search for survivors, unknowingly heading for the two young Ren broken by battle ([member="Arcana Altana"], [member="Kira Solvani"])[/SIZE]
Location: Hilikan Incineration Plant Vessel: No longer in U-Wing Objective: Infiltrate Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Shamira Karuto"], [member="Gabriel Sionoma"], [member="Adder"] Enemies: First Order, [member="Val Kordova"], [member="Mishel Ren"], [member="Brennan Cabrol"]. Pursuing Brennan. Gear: Light Paddle, stealth blaster, another blaster, armour (in sig), melee shield (in sig), vibroknife, lightsabre, no-show (no longer functional).
The Disciple of Ren had successfully avoided being tossed into the fiery pit below. However, the combined use lightning and telekinesis had evidently taken its toll on him. Ouch. As the Disciple was blown back by Taeli's electrical onslaught, Kaida sensed the presence of another Ren, a bit ahead of them.
This one's Force aura felt vaguely familiar. Maybe from Skor? Kaida did not have the time, clairvoyance or desire to process this further. For the time being, she had the male Ren in her sights. "I'll handle this one," she said, you might have guessed it, frostily. Did she ever use a different tone? Has Mustafar frozen over yet? That answers the question.
The male Ren had rallied again, drawing a lightsabre and what, based on the dark power emanating from it, had to be some kind of alchemised Sith blade. Kaida could respect his dedication to fight for his cause, as much as she despised the First Order. If she were a hyper-pacifist lightsider, this might have been the moment to make a presumably futile attempt to persuade him to turn away from his dark philosophies and let the Light Side into his heart. However, Kaida was no pacifist. Or a Jedi. Or talkative. She was an Angelii, a Force soldier of the Eldorai people, full of wroth over had transpired on Kaeshana. Thus Brennan was spared such annoying speechifying. Thank the Goddess.
Instead, power rippled from her hand as she sent a strong blast of telekinetic energy towards him, aiming to have it slam into his knees with enough force to seriously mess up bones. Activating her jets, she crossed the distance by shooting over the catwalk. Her lightsabre was ready as her feet touched down upon the ground, shield within reach if needed.
Allies: [member="Adder"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Abel"] [member="Tela Uolmi"]
Enemies: Flying to engage: [member="Sara Lee Jones"] Also present in theatre: [member="Aran Piett"]
Location: Upper Cloud City, near plaza
Objective: Clear space around Cloud City. Escort U-Wings
“Cuddle? It’s got two seats you don’t have to sit on my lap. These are business hours Tela,” he replied. With his visor down and with the speed he turned away she wouldn’t see the lopsided smirk that crossed his features. The keen eyes of a pilot scanned the buildings as he broke into a jog. Something hummed overhead and he pressed his back into cover, waving for Tela to do the same. A cloud car was visible for a fraction of a second as it swooped past.
Asmus waited a moment and then continued on his run. A sharp turn around a round dome and his fighter came in sight. As well as a squad of stromtroopers. Most of them lingered on the far side of the plaza but two stood within a few metre of the ship.
“The view of my beautiful ship is being spoiled. Chad got a target.” He pulled the scope free from his blaster and used it to get an accurate position for the clustered troopers. He passed this onto Chad.
“Inbound, thirty seconds.”
His uniform hadn’t been seen by the First Order so he strode boldly towards the fighter. With Tela in uniform perhaps they could get away with talking their way out of things. That turned out to be an incorrect assumption. As they closed the troopers saluted Tela and then one of the reached for his blaster.
“Hands up, your IFF signal is not…” the trooper started before falling silent. The noise of Asmus’ blaster drowned out his last word and the hole drilled through his skull silenced any further complaint. The second trooper took two more bolts to his chest plate. That knocked him from his feet but his armour took the shots. Asmus stepped over him and brought the butt of his pistol down hard to knock the trooper cold. The rest of the squad realised what was going on just as Chad’s Y-wing passed overhead. They vanished in the flash of a bomb, heat washing over Asmus as he climbed up into the canopy.
“Right, this was a prototype but the secondary controls are pretty much the same as a two seat training X-Wing. The repeating cannon has a thirty degree freedom of movement. If you tug hard on the controls I’ll feel you trying to nudge my on the stick, it’s quicker than voice.” Asmus flicked several switches and rushed startup. He lifted Thunder slowly from the ground and turned to face the remaining troopers.
“Target practise for you,” he called back. “Wraith Seven we’re coming up to meet you. Let’s engage those fighters.”
Of course there was always that little voice that suggested he should show off. So as they pulled away he would invert the craft and push the engines to their limit. The roar of his fighter would spread across the surface of Cloud City.
Location: Ison Corridor
Objective: We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
Allies: GA, [member="Alexandra Morrow"], [member="Vilin"], [member="Raze Lyter"], [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Rick Kaloo"], [member="Sieb Tevv"] et al.
Enemies: FO, [member="Achim Veers"] (engaging), [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] (engaging), [member="T'yr Dellos"], [member="Ashin Varanin"], et al.
Gear: In Sig (except for uniform)
Control Room, Sullustan Monitor ANS Nautilus Ison Corridor, Flanking First Order Battleline Outer Rim
By the time the Nautilus and its remaining support the Ghostwall finally emerged from the sensor shroud of the Ivax Nebula, the tactical situation had progressed from bad to worse. While the battle was by no means already determined, the First Order's numbers advantage alone had been enough at least to completely stunt the Defense Fleet's advance into the Corridor. Forcing the bulk of the Alliance armada to waste precious time and resources amassing enough forces to push back their ambush, the Imperials were proving quite effective at delaying their ability to come to the aid of advance elements that had deployed to several major operational objectives throughout the sector. Then again, by that same token, Commodore Zark Pulsar had to take heart in the fact that they must be accomplishing much the same. Even if they lost this opening engagement, even if this was to be Zark's last battle, every extra hour they bogged the enemy down here was more time for their allies to break the chokehold of the Imperials' iron grip on the sector.
Cursing himself for being perhaps too overcautious, the monitor commander tried to shrug such doubts out of his mind, as those insights only came with the benefit of hindsight. True, the fight had remained focused away from his position and opportunities had been lost, but from their limited perspective the crew of the capital killer frigate had no idea in the moment if they were still being hunted even as they ran near completely silent. A stealth hunter could have been waiting just outside the rim of the Nebula to finish the job for all they had known, and Zark had been forced to remain patient and stride the line between protocol and initiative to determine the best moment to resurface. The tiny monitor didn't even possess any escape pods, the life of every soul aboard the Nautilus was very much in his hards.
"Alright," he said said upon emerging, "Find me something I can kill."
That had been easier said than done. Few ships in the entire galaxy had the type of weapon power per meter the Leviathan-class boasted with its twin assault concussion missile tubes, just one of which was capable of potentially breaking a corvette in half if fired just so, but the one thing the monitor couldn't handle so well were the lighter, more agile capitals. The ones designed specially to fend off ships like his, and in this engagement the First Order sure possessed a lot of them. Of particular concern were both the Halberd artillery frigates and the several gunships in the Imperial makeup. It was hard to get anywhere close to one of their destroyers without running afoul of one of their defensive patrol screens.
To the crew it was likely an old sensation by now, and the Jedi Knight had to marvel at their mundane efficiency in such deadly circumstances, but the sensation of flying unseen through the middle of a warzone was both beautiful and terrifyingly upsetting in about the same measure. With extremely difficult to trace TibannaX composing their ion trail, further dispersed by the engine bafflers and tight beam ionic thrusters, completely masked their vector and even presence to practically all sensors. Combined with the comprehensive suite of photon absorbers, thermal dissipators, and gravitic modulators that comprised the stealth suite of the Leviathan-class, the monitors were effectively ghosts on the battlefield. Until they wanted to be, or needed to be.
"Easy, easy..." he murmured, more to the frigate's almost supernaturally capable helmsman. Even with the Force as his ally, Zark had to speculate if he had the type of concentration to be able to make such minute adjustments so precisely, "There we go, alright. Ease off, weapons team prepare to load ordnance to tubes one and two."
After so much time maneuvering in and out of the outer edges of the Imperial battleline's rear flank, they had finally found their opportunity. Even now, the Jedi Knight reached out with the Force to touch to the mind of the Ghostwall's captain. The Commodore was sure he was going to have a very long conversation with Admiral Morrow if both of them survived all this about invading the minds of her officers without explicit consent, but to his credit the commander of the other monitor had gotten over his apprehensions quickly enough as he began to see the tactical implications of having a line of communication between stealthed vessels that extended beyond tightbeam range. It had been some time since he had relied upon the Force so much in one day, or used many of these techniques on the battlefield, but he had been practicing. And learning.
Even now, he could feel not only the presence of everyone throughout the Nautilus, every aura shining like a beacon, but on board the distant Ghostwall as well. He was still inexperienced, and untested, but Zark had always been strong in the Force. From deep within the state of wakeful meditation, he felt that he could almost see what each of them saw, feel what they felt, knew and thought what they did. And if he focused hard enough, he could just lend them enough of his discipline of mind to make them feel better, to know better, to do better. On both Sullustan Monitors, the Alliance crews began to operate almost in sync with each other, and though many had flagged in their hearts at the sight of the Imperial destroyers closing in on their main line, they now found the courage of heart to fight on despite the particular danger of serving aboard such a ship in battle.
"Status of the Ghostwall?" he asked.
"You'd know better than me, sir," the comms officer replied, and Zark had to admit she made a point.
Status? he reached out across the void to plant the word into the mind of the distant monitor's captain.
In position, a thought that was not his own voice returned out of the aether a short time later.
"Ghostwall is ready to engage on my command," Commodore Pulsar glanced down at the helmsman, "As soon as I give the order, I want as much thrust as you can give me within stealth thresholds, straight for those Halberds."
"Yes Commo-," the sailor paused, "did you say you want me to go toward the Halberds?"
"Chances are in all this dren, someone is gonna notice us again eventually no matter how hard we try to stay out of sight," he explained quietly, "And when that happens, I want to be as far inside their optimal firing patterns as you can get me. We'll worry about the rest later."
"Yes, sir!"
Bashir gave him a look as if to say, 'are you sure you know what you are doing?' Zark resisted the urge to shrug helplessly, and instead nodded his head tersely in response.
"Stay with her..." he coaxed the sailor, "You're gonna lose her."
"Sir, with respect-"
"Yeah yeah..." Zark glanced around the control room one last time, at all the tense faces with attentions split between him and their posts, "Whatever happens, its been an honor."
Before them, the massive ion trails of the FIV Nolantia blazed in their viewport blindingly. Elsewhere on the battlefield, the Ghostwall would be beholding a similar sight in the shadow of its target, the FIV Malice.
"Fire," he ordered.
Fire, he projected into the mind of the Ghostwall's captain.
Summary of Actions
ANS Nautilus and ANS Ghostwall spend a significant amount of maneuvering time to get in position behind FIV Nolantia and FIV Malice respectfully.
Both monitors fire assault concussion missile tubes from medium range (enough flight time to potentially react with some form of point defense).
Both ships immediately begin evasive actions, the Nautilus attempting to remain inside the optimal range of the First Order Halberds.
FLEET
ANS Nautilus- Hull | Shields Firing at: FIV Nolantia [member="Achim Veers"]
ANS Argo- Hull | Shields (still temporarily disabled)
ANS Ghostwall- Hull | Shields Firing at: FIV Malice [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[SIZE=11pt]Samka landed in a gymnast’s pose, balanced yet delicate, beside Alkor. A satisfied smirk rested on her face as she knew the damage she’d done. As expected, the advantage was hers. “Retrieve your weapon,” Sam firmly ordered her ally without taking her eyes off of their foe. “And don’t grin like that, it’s unbecoming,” she said without a hint of irony. “We haven’t won yet.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She pointed her blade at arm’s length towards the Shark threateningly. “It’s not too late to surrender,” Sam said, slowly closing the gap with light footsteps one after the other, taking advantage of the Shark’s pause. Irajah would appreciate giving her so-called friend another chance. Only now did she notice the doctor’s disappearance. Sam held her position, eyes flickering as she searched out for Irajah’s location but she didn’t dare look properly lest her opponent take advantage of her distraction. The safety of [member="Irajah Ven"] was paramount and she’d run off in the middle of a warzone? Worse, Samka hadn’t noticed? She had the urge to discipline the woman yet she was not yet the Ren’s to do so. Not yet.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Behind her back, Sam’s fist curled into a ball, a crushing movement. The decorative plaza tree which Alkor had taken shelter behind previously began to curve and a branch broke off from the trunk. The branch then shattered into bits, jagged splinters of wood suspended in the air for a moment until Sam thrust her palm outwards towards the Bounty Hunter sending the dozens of pieces of sharp splintered wood at her foe. “But I think I already know your answer,” she murmured coldly as the the attack hailed down. Sam expected most of it to bounce harmlessly off of the Herlic’s armour but she’d aimed as best she could at his exposed head and shoulder wound.[/SIZE]
