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Allies: FO | [member="Arcana Altana"] [member="Bamuf"]
Enemies: GA | [member="Aver Brand"] [member="Rusty"]
Objective: Does it really matter now?
The pain was blinding. White that had nothing to do with the snow ate at the edges of her vision as Arcana dug the blade out of her gut. Someone was screaming, and it took a moment for Kira to realize that was her own voice, ragged and raw in the frozen air-
And then the very air shattered, and Kira had the briefest flash of the pits of hell around her.
She swam out of heavy pitch, black as night, and back into the light. She didn't know what, exactly, had happened. That the blade the armored figure had stabbed her with had actually been an explosive device. A hitch in the mechanism and Arcana's quick thinking were the only reason the winged Ren was even alive in that moment, but there was no parsing any such thing.
The pain, oddly, was distant now. Not like when her friend's hand had plunged into the wound. There was a distance to all of it. The snow around them was oddly quiet, especially in comparison to the explosion of a moment before. In the distance she could still hear the fighting, but it was subdued. Muffled. Of course, the bleeding down the side of her head, indicating damage done by sheer nearness of the explosion explained it, but Kira herself was simply floatingly baffled and only vaguely curious as to why that was.
Slowly (an age, and epoch, she didn't know how long it took) she turned her head to look at the back of Arcana's head. The pair, dark and light, laid unmoving in the snow, the stark black of Kira's wings contrasting sharply with the white around them... and the flecks of red that spread out in an arc from the pair indicating the pattern of the explosion. The snow beneath them melted slowly, as blood seeped from shredded skin and exposed bones, wet and gleaming.
That was strange.
Where had it all come from?
The surface of her mind was protecting her, blocking out what it could, letting in what it had to. She felt oddly cold, but also light and distant as, ever so slowly (why was everything so heavy? So hard to move?) she drew her injured wing over Arcana. Plummeting blood pressure, loss of blood, and shock changed everything about the way the world around her filtered through.
Face turned up to the sky, she was almost peaceful as she waited. Waited for what?
She didn't really know. But at least she was waiting with Arcana.
Almost as if on call, Aela burst through one of the walls of the cavern.
The loud cracking sound of shattering of ice resounded throughout the tunnels, the ringing of two activated lightsabers following through the cold mist that seemed to raise from the broken chunks of frozen water. The newly formed doorway lead to a sub-tunnel that Aela had managed to follow, something that had likely been carved by the wampa long ago and then forgotten when the tunnel Jamie and the others were inside of came into greater use. Aela stepped out of the icy doorway, her gaze stern, her expression one half filled with rage.
Bright orange eyes quickly darted towards the exit of the Caverns, locking on Jamie and then the two figures behind her.
The Jedi Master didn't stall of wait, she didn't even take a breath. In an instant she rushed forward her fingers slowly turning from her lightsaber as she allowed the ancient blade to spin within her grip. She bounded forward, running towards Jamie and then suddenly jumping above her. The bright white lightsaber slashed into the cavern's ceiling a few feet behind her Padawan, carving through thousand year ice and melting it in an instant. She landed with a muted thud, glancing up at Castor for a brief moment before her other hand suddenly jerked down.
The Force rocked the caverns, and then the ice above her began to fall apart. Within just a moment huge chunks began to fall to the floor, the cavern's entrance beginning to crumble and fall to piece, hopefully cutting the Knights of Ren off from both Jamie and Aela.
Half a heartbeat later Aela turned, one lightsaber latching onto her belt. An arm scooped beneath Jamie, picking her up off the ground and helping her to her feet. "Come on."
She told her padawan as she tried to get her up, directing Jamie to head towards the tunnel she had come from.
Location: Bespin, Hotel Suite Objective: Arrest the First Order Spy Who is Clearly Not a Doctor Allies: [member="Elliot Locke"] | [member="Canal"] Enemies: [member="Irajah Ven"]
"Wha?" Initially he didn't quite understand what was going, but as soon as Canal barked his yell Jorg whipped around.
Seasoned soldiers had this way about them. They weren't Jedi, they didn't have a miraculous sixth sense, but if one was in combat for long enough you got a feel for certain things. The tensions in a room, the sound of a blaster shot snapping by your face. The location of a sniper who was watching you. No one could really convince Jorg that this was anything other than natural instinct, and it was that instinct that immediately had him break out into a sprint.
He didn't particularly care why the Doctor was running, and he hadn't seen it coming, but he would respond to it.
The weight of his armor pushed him down, slowing him, but Jorg didn't need to reach her. As he sprinted his hand curled slightly, his fingers pressing against tiny nodes located within his gloves. The Soldier didn't need to touch her, he just needed to-
Jorg bounded over a table, his hand curling back, and then suddenly quickly bursting out.
The Repulse Glove built into his armor, the one that he had found in their shared hotel room smelling of...indecent things, suddenly burst into life. The energy that erupted from the tractors burst forward, being enough to shatter duracrete and sending half a dozen things flying. Jorg aimed the blast directly at Irajah, hoping to send her hurtling into the nearby wall and stopping her from escaping in one smooth and liquid motion.
“Roger, Wingcom. Targets in sight, going in,” she paused as she asserted herself fully into the Phantom Limb. The ship and Adder were one, every reflex and movement processed on a nervous level – precious little margin for error.
Kinda why they call you an ace, Adder.
She banished lingering worries with a long exhale and took point in their pronged formation. The Blue Fury was coming in from below, looking to shred the unprotected bellies of the TIEs while the enemy was distracted by Wraith.
“Happy hunting, Janes. See you skyside.”
With that, Adder pressed in, darting into range with a sudden boost of speed. If it weren’t for inertial dampers, the redhead would’ve been reduced to nothing but a crimson smear on the seat. Made you dizzy just trying to imagine the gs that went into that acceleration, but that was the silver lining – no time for overthinking when you were going that fast.
Knowing she’d catch them unawares, Adder executed the second part of her maneuver. With a seemingly effortless nod of her chin, the nose of the Phantom tipped skyward in front of the leading TIE. Her fighter would pitch back so quick that the roaring engines would burn right past the exposed cockpit of her foe.
Sure, the exhausts of every craft were built to withstand those absurd temperatures. The viewports, however, weren’t. If the FO pilot was lucky, he’d die from the heat before the glasteel melted into his face.
Adder would complete her half-loop with a roll and dash back into formation, protected by her allies’ cover fire.
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)
[SIZE=10pt]Things were starting to get crazy at Anoat Station. A rodian standoff between [member="Vexen"] and [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] about the potential blowing up of Anoat Station itself. To be honest, this would spell trouble for our ragtag gang of Alliance members. Allyson wasn’t a fan of blowing up, this meant an angry Kaili Talith and everyone knows about Kaili Talith’s temper.[/SIZE]
Fiolette Yvarro said:
She looked down at her tablet and remote into the station's controls one last time. Self-Destruct Sequence activated.
[SIZE=10pt]Luckily, no such thing would occur.[/SIZE]
Fiolette Yvarro said:
Unleash a virus into the Kuragin's computer systems, the virus would now interrupt any attempts to get into the system while at the same time destroy the station's software. From now on everything on the Kuragin would have to be done manually.
[SIZE=10pt]Unhooking the tablet and disconnecting the headset she tossed it to the ground, and rushed up engineering's stairwells.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]The First Order had ensured earlier that all systems would be wiped and must be done manually. This also included any safeguards to blow the station up. It was a bluff. Now did the Alliance know that? Unlikely, but they’ve come too far now to quit. They were aiming to get within GA space where there would be a large Alliance fleet awaiting their potential arrival. All this time, this had been the ultimate goal; to hijack the Anoat Station in a grand theft of their sector control. Any way it ended, successful or not, they had succeeded in this one thing -- incapacitating First Order control of the entire Anoat Sector for navigating and surveying traffic. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allyson got the nod from Spark and the direction from Vex. They had to get to navigation, Allyson knew she was the right one for the job, the right one to get them to where they needed to go. There were a few doors in their way, but navigation wasn’t too far for her and [member="Deacon"] to get to. Her final act in the panel after seeing the route they needed to go with the system having maps about the stations layout was to unlock the doors that had shut down around them previously. A grunt and the Force played its part in giving life to the doors and having them shoot up and remain locked into position. Turning, Allyson faced her fellow SIS agent and gave him the rundown.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]“Gotta get to navigation, going to jump the station etc etc and cover me okay? Then I’ll owe you a drink.” A flirtatious wink and the Corellian was off. Her memory served her right as she took a few turns and made it just in time to the navigation room. Finding computers and the like she quickly synced herself through the force to them and brought them back online after a few moments. She caught Spark’s last statement about navigation being ready. [/SIZE] [SIZE=10pt]I’m here, I’m here! The mention of the station needing to be kept together meant Allyson needed to figure out a route through hyperspace that wasn’t too far, but far enough for them to get out of here. [/SIZE] [SIZE=10pt]I can do this, we can do this. She was going to have to wing it and doing what Kaili taught her, Allyson centered herself the best she could within the Force – focusing on the grav waves. Her mind began to crunch the numbers for the route that gave them the best chance at surviving. Allyson was inept at sensing things through the force, but with this control based Force power – her mind could distinguish quickly where they needed to go for the best probable location of survival. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][Instinctive Astrogation Control] [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]The route would be a weird one, having her mind register the fact that there are mines and the like blocking the typical entry and exit routes. [/SIZE] [SIZE=10pt]Yeah this ride was going to be a weird one...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Everything rested on her and she didn’t have much time. Spark was going to hit the jump button at any moment and just before she did, Allyson quickly typed in the coordinates that would give them the best success rate. “JUMP SPARK!” [/SIZE]
Various Mobile Weapon Platform droids, multiple Light Models with RC-1 and MD-1, some Medium Models with RC-1 in anti-air configuration, and few Heavy Models with MD-1 anti-armor configuration
((Sorry for the wait guys, it was a combination of being occupied with work and waiting for the other parties I posted to to reply, I didn't fully realize how much time passed since my last post))
[member="Asharad Graush"],
The Metal Dragon Asharad targeted briefly directed stream of energy from its tail towards some nearby TIE fighters that were not currently busy carrying HK away during its flight before that invisible force tugged and pulled on it suddenly. Its wings flapped on the wind and shifted their positions quickly, trying to stabilize the beast as it was being tugged down, although its thrusters and repulsorlifts whirred and growled against the pull, trying to struggle the machine out of it and pull it upwards towards the sky. Its wing was wounded, however they mainly affected the beast's maneuverability as they housed stabilizators for flight control, the thruster and repulsor units were built into its back and body.
The drake still went down, being clawed down towards the ground by the telekinetic grip, although it may not have went down as quickly and easily as Asharad would have hoped for. Its wings jerked and thrashed, its legs bucked in the air as if it was trying to run, being pulled down towards the ground the dragon moved in a path towards one of the destroyed vehicles, using its one good wing to roll in the last minute to avoid crashing directly into it, instead hitting it with the side of its shoulder duranium armor plate, scrapping a gash in the protective layer before being thrown aside into a nearby dune of snow, causing the white powder to shred and be thrown up in the air. Its stout strong legs hit the ground in a bit of a run as it tried to slow down further, absorbing the impact as it shook its metal body to try and get the snow off of it. The squid drones on its wing still clung to its body, moving here and there quickly, lighting up sparks from their fusioncutters, their tentacle limbs operating swiftly, still busy to try and repair as much of the droid as they could.
Meanwhile, HK was still pressed against the cockpit of the TIE fighter,
Staring at the pilot the droid folded his fingers, forming strange gestures against the transparisteel surface just as he saw the man leaning forward to angle the fighter aside and throw the machine off of it. HK threw out a gravitational anomaly using his Gauntlets of Gravitational Mastery, grabbing the flight controls in one field and the man's head in another. He threw his hands aside, bending at the wrists at what would be uncomfortable angle to most organics, and in the instant the flight controls were pulled inwards towards the man with strong grip and he was shot forward towards them. His helmet smashed against the controls as the TIE fighter suddenly turned upwards at a right angle and begun to climb high towards the skies.
The pilot was dazed, at least temporarily and HK found himself suddenly gaining some stability as he stood upright on the cockpit layer. His jetpack activated, one hand clutching the black staff still, the other unholstered one of his magnetic revolvers as his jetpack activated once more, causing him to gain more speed and lift up from the screen. The droid threw another gravitational anomaly, using his scanners to pick out acceleration controls and activating them to slow the fighter down. The TIE begun to slow down in the air, as HK moved higher until it started to stall, he then aimed down with his revolver and fired off a couple of shots at the transparisteel screen. The neuranium armor piercing pellets raced out downwards, punching through the transparisteel seamlessly and embedding themselves in the back of the cockpit, in the hull behind the dazed pilot as the droid arched himself downwards, his jetpacks activating to push him back down towards the TIE and its cockpit.
And then there was crash as HK smashed against the transparisteel screen, weakened by the hypervelocity pellet impact. The droid kicked it in, launching himself into the cockpit and slamming against the TIE pilot, ripping him out of the seat before grabbing the controls. Lucky enough HK stole TIE fighters in the past, long before the Gulag plague, he would be somewhat similar with the way they were handled, but they may have been updated past recognition over the years, plus he always had trouble controlling starcraft that didn't had actively mind of its own like the Mechanical Dragons or Basilisk War Droids.
Asharad would be able to see the TIE fighter jerked suddenly as it turned back down from the sky and angled towards him, its cockpit screen more or less gone with a conveniently HK-sized hole in the middle of it, the droid behind its controls, if he would manage to spot that, and the pilot against the back wall, pinned by the velocity forces. The droid opened up fire then, turning TIE fighter's guns on its owners to try and gun down Asharad and possibly his tank in a strafing run.
However the attack would be short lived, firing off only 3-5 bolts before it stopped and suddenly jerked aside once more. The FO pilot within the cockpit came to from his daze and HK found his arms grabbing him from behind, trying to wrestle out the controls from the droid. HK tried to aim down the magnetic revolver on him to gun the man down, his arm being clenched by the pilot as well, the soldier surprisingly finding strength to keep the machine back. In the scuffle they were facing the Outpost Veer, the pilot managed to push the arm with the magnetic revolver aside out of the cockpit and in the struggle HK pulled on the trigger.
A neuranium pellet raced out towards the Outpost just as [member="Rexus Wenck"] activated the charges set underneath it in attempt to execute [member="Aeron Kreelan"] and suddenly there was that terrible explosion that consumed the Outpost, snow and ice begin thrown upward from underneath it, sabotaging the facility or at least its parts along with the soldiers who were fighting there.
In that instant HK and the pilot both froze, watching the column of snow and ice rising up into the air in front of them in the distance as the TIE fighter they were fighting over still moved towards it. Finally HK broke the silence,
"What have you done?"
"You were the one who whipped out the revolver!"
The joke here is that HK and the pilot thought they accidentally caused the explosion underneath Outpost Veers, much like he tried to take the credit for bringing down that FO cruiser on Kaeshana with a shattergun rifle just because he shot in the vague direction of its engines just before it begun to sink.
They were still close enough to Asharad's position though if he wanted to counterattack them or affect the TIE with the Force.
[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"],
Seeing the explosion HK sent out a message to Kerrigan silently, using the quick build-in communication systems,
"What the khark was that explosion? Are you guys having fun without me all over again?"
He was still a bit salty about the whole them not waiting for him before causing an avalanche thing.
As to the droid and wyvern forces in the area, they were still doing their own thing, flying above the rear armored forces under Sol's command fighting the tanks brought by Asharad, giving them support and focusing on eliminating that FO unit possibly. They stayed away from the Outpost Veers, thankfully since the whole explosion from underground thing, but any further grav missile assaults from Shaydae and her troops would still have the same effect.
Some drones would be shut down, plummeting down to crash over Sol and Asharad's forces with durasteel shrapnel, oil, and hydraulic units splattering over them, others managed to defend themselves against the explosive projectiles with quick maneuvering, time to act due to the distance, or their defensive mechanisms like chaff launchers and rear energy beam tail guns.
However as the battle went on, more and more drones would be running out of tricks, expending their chaff or losing their combat shields, making them more vulnerable targets before they would take time to eventually resupply and replenish their combat power units.
One of the wyvern drones being chased by a missile raced past the TIE fighter HK and the FO pilot were in, too close for comfort, as the missile, perhaps losing the track of the drone's repulsor signature, perhaps being more attracted to HK's liberal use of grav based technology, smashed against the TIE's solar panel wing, exploding out and causing the whole vehicle to shudder.
His strike had made purchase, though not where he'd expected. The green fleshed woman had moved just enough that instead of her rear, the saber pike's non-lethal end had struck her leg. Quickly, smoothly, Aralu transitioned his stance. Bringing his left foot around, so also came the saber end of his pike. As his leg came about, he shuffled sideways to close the distance between them, the shimmering - white hot blade jabbing quickly forward towards her. In the confined space of the corridor, there was serious lack of maneuvering room but it would do.
As he gathered himself for a follow up jab he felt an impact on his leg, a rapid glance at the corner of his vision revealed what had been a grappling hook as it careened off the armor plates. Though they weren't anywhere near indestructible, they did protect the wearer and at the new angle, the hook failed to find a hold, fleshy or otherwise. Where it would travel afterwards was anyone's guess.
It was then that Aralu made another move, and as he felt the power of the Force surge through his muscles, he drove forward again with the pike at the woman, his eyes filled with a measure of hatred, of anger, and of frustration - all wrapped up in the powerful grip of control. The strike was aimed at the woman's right shoulder, no doubt the heavy metal end to follow as Aralu swept the weapon upwards.
Just as he was making the attack - he felt the deck shift.
[SIZE=11pt]All Samka could do was roll her eyes at Alkor’s retort. Insolence. This was why she disliked working with mercenaries, they had no discipline, no respect for their betters, loyal only to their next paycheck.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Ignoring his warnings, Sam let the Shark close the gap between them. It was time to show just how dangerous she could be up close. A single eyebrow raised as the armoured Herlic performed a series of less-than-graceful acrobatics. Was he… mocking her style? Or perhaps he was so enthralled with her own gymnastics that he had to try it out for himself. Either way, the small girl was caught somewhere between bewilderment and amusement that she didn’t move an inch as the Bounty Hunter landed in front of her with a mighty thud.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Please never attempt that again,” Samka said drily as an energy field appeared around them both.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The young Ren leaped into action immediately, in her mind, the Bounty Hunter had made a big mistake. He’d trapped himself with her. Her eyes flashed dangerously, a hint of madness gone so quick one may have thought it was never there. She rose up seemingly to strike at his face but instead her momentum shifted downwards. A faint attack. She landed on the floor without a moment’s pause, aiming to weave between the Bounty Hunter’s legs while flicking her lightsaber to the side, carving through Ghorua’s knee and out the otherside. After that she’d commence a maddened yet gleeful flurry of attacks. Stabs, flicks, jabs, slashes and feints all the while never staying in one spot. With the Force powering her natural speed and agility further, she was a ghost. When she struck one moment, she was gone the next. A different target next to be cut apart.[/SIZE]
Allies: FO Enemies: GA | [member="Elliot Locke"] [member="Jorg"] [member="Canal"] Objective: Remember How To Breath
For a second, she thought she was going to make it. Through the door way, the sound of Canal's shout echoing behind her. A large set of windows, curtained, but *there* along the front of the building. Reaching out with the Force again, she took a heartbeat to draw on Shatterpoint, finding that one spot that would radiate out perfectly, and with a flick of her hand the largest window burst outward in a rain of glass along the street.
Two things in such close succession meant letting go of Gideon for a moment, but she didn't care. Blood dripped from her nose but a grim smile flickered across her features as she angled toward her escape-
The weight of danger through the Force was all the warning she had before she was flying through the air sideways.
She had just enough time to start to bring her arms up, but not enough time to protect her head before she slammed into the wall. She impacted on her right side, head, the length of her body and hip taking the brunt of the force. Stars exploding behind her eyes, the wind knocked from her lungs. Ribs and collar bone flared with fire and she slid down into a heap at the base of the wall. Conscious, with a pained whimper, but curled in on herself, not even attempting to stand.
Pain and injury stilled her, yes. But also the weight of memories, paralyzing her as she closed her eyes tight and tried to remember how to breath- and keep in focus where she was, rather than the wellings of terror that had accompanied the sensation. Memories of golden eyes and silence on Panatha.
Location: Bespin, Nightclub Objective: Get our shet together Allies: [member="Jorg"], [member="Canal"] Oh Dear: [member="Irajah Ven"] Enemies: Time.
For Elliot the entire situation was remarkably less elegant.
He was still in the progress of donning his helmet when Canal suddenly barreled into him and caused him to lose his balance. Quick thinking allowed him to regain it by grasping at the bar behind him, automatically his free hand steadied Canal at the same time, so the clone wouldn't fall on his face. After that... things got messy - the alcohol of the last night and the sudden change of metaphorical gravity made Canal puke his guts out, Raj was suddenly on the loose and the ladies started to shout.
All that Locke could do was keep the girls contained with the barrel of his rifle, while Jorg went after Raj. She was already down the corridor and that only would get one man through.
The crash of a body against the wall made him frown, before he shook his head.
"She still breathing?" Locke shouted over his shoulder to Jorg - the agent didn't know what he'd feel, if it turned out that crash killed her. It sounded hard and that wasn't a good thing. Canal took over his rifle again and started to incapacitate the women one by one, which allowed Elliot to finish gearing up.
"The women are out." He relayed to Jorg after Canal was done with them. He wandered over back to the door, peeking through it once he pushed it open. "We are clear here for now, doc's secure, so we need a ship now."
Location: Ison Corridor Objective: Control the Corridor Allies: [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Zark"], [member="Alexandra Morrow"], [member="Silara Varis"], GA Enemies: [member="Achim Veers"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Ashin Varanin"], FO
Once again, the First Order corvettes managed to avoid serious damage. It was a very annoying experience, and maybe even one of the last Rick would face. Attempting valiantly to resist paranoia, he watched helplessly as Ne-Cal's prized warship, his warship, was destroyed around him. Swimming out of his thoughts, he realized that the ship would not be able to hold out for much longer. Just about as he was going to order to abandon ship, a transmission came in. "It's from the enemy, sir." an officer said. "Interesting. Open it up, let's read it." Rick replied.
Carlyle Rausgeber said:
Carlyle's slim figure, with cape flowing proceeded to be received by all ships in the sector. He cut a stern figure, glowing a deep blow, "Attention, all Alliance vessels. I am Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber." The Admiral began, his tone courteous, and diplomatic, "The battle is lost, all that is left for us is the destruction of your fleet." He stated, in a neutral, matter of fact tone. "Surrender now unconditionally, with your dignity and your lives, where you will be spared." He announced, much to the surprise of his crew, however, as the most senior naval officer within the theatre, he was authorised to make such judgements, "Refuse this opportunity, and we will send you to the void," His tone grew sinister, and a scowl crept upon his lips, "With extreme prejudice." There was distinct pause, and a beat passed "You will have five minutes to consider our offer. I suggest you choose wisely."
"Send a response transmission." Rick ordered the officer. Within twenty seconds, the Defiance sent an open comlink to the First Order flagship.
"You have won, my ship has no hope left and we may not be able to evacuate safely. Leave my ship be and let our escape pods out, and I will no longer harm you, leaving this system." he said, in a calm voice.
"Sent, sir." the officer replied, then turning off the transmitter. "Good. Now let's wait for his response." Rick replied, for the first time, not noticing the battle around him.
Defiance (Defiance-class Heavy Assault Frigate)
Actions: Fired ion cannon volley at FIV Malice, turned left to evade plasma torpedoes, focused firepower on corvettes, focused energy on frontal firepower, received transmission from Carlyle, sent transmission to Carlyle
Shielding: 2% (Disabled to save energy) Armor: 29% Engines: Disabled, torn off with the stern of the Defiance
Allies: [member="Adder"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Abel"] [member="Tela Uolmi"]
Enemies: [member="Sara Lee Jones"] [member="Aran Piett"]
Location: Upper Cloud City, near plaza
Objective: Clear space around Cloud City. Escort U-Wings
“Impress you?” Asmus called back. The intercom channel has to carry his voice over the roar of the engines. “That was identification. If I hadn't been showing off you might have assumed I was an imposter, shot me in the back of the head and taken my ship. And I like my ship. And head.”
With the ship inverted they were treated to an exceptional view of the sun catching the elegant curves of the surface of Cloud city. There wasn't time to appreciate it. Asmus rolled them back over and returned his attention to his displays as he streaks towards Wraith Seven. He could see the U-Wing gunships flying straight as an arrow. The ruse was that they were more transports. As they hadn't been seen in battle before and had a signature than almost matched their troop transport cousins it was a good one.
Yet as the First Order pilots approached they would see the twin laser turrets only moments before they were fired upon. Streams of fire would arc out to meet the interceptors, followed by a barrage of torpedoes. Asmus appraised the view, looking for a target. Just years ago the information would have overwhelmed even his mathematical mind. The GADF had nearly dropped him, but Rogue Squadron had been his salvation. There he had worked his way up through the ranks. The undisciplined squadron making their mark with unconventional tactics and raw skill. Russo had moulded them, Matson had polished them and then it had fallen on him to lead them through some of their most difficult hours.
After all of that he read the flow of a battle like an open book.
“Hope you're not rusty,” he said. “We've got our first customer bearing one seven six five by three four two. That cannon needs a cool down cycle. Use a burst to try and line him up and I'll give you a clean shot.”
Asmus angled down and rolled back to come in underneath the TIE. The pilot caught sight of Asmus’ ship and started to try and throw him off but Asmus had his scent now. It was only a matter of time.
Maira saw with a mild bit of smugness as the PBOL mass drivers struck at the Kaga's hull. Up ahead, her officer shouted out up at her.
"Commander, our strikes have hit," a series of taps across the holographic screen and she brought up what damage they could pick up with their sensors off the Kaga.
"They have activated their thrusters. It is too slow right now to determine at what direction." with the low maneuverability that the IFW Impellor-class Battle Carrier had, the chances of it being able to move fast enough to fully engage the type of attack it intended upon Eriadu's Fist would not be within it's grasp. Even at full speed to try and turn, it may not be enough.
" Continue our volley of Pee-Bee-Oh-El mass drivers. " Maira instructed, "Utilize our ACS energy siphons, "
"Aye, ma'am!"
The ACS-803 Energy Siphon Cannons were not only part of the offensive, but defensive capabilities of the Vekker Class. As it rapidly closed the distance, the eight weapons would fire short beams along with the Mass driver's near the rear area of the Kaga, and upon making contact with its shields, could potentially tear at it, the beams capable of pulling energy away from the Kaga's shield systems and cycling it back to the Eriadu's Fist. The beams operate much like an ion cannon, a long electromagnetic containment sheath containing negative-ion plasma much like those found in an Ion Bolt. However, once the beams made contact with an energy shield, the sheath, which is charged to expel negative-ion energy, would in the charged energy from the shield in an attempt at funneling it back towards the Eriadu's Fist. Much of the energy is lost in the transfer as the charged energy is affected by the ion plasma used to give the electromagnetic beam its negative charge or lost in the void of space, with only about a sixty percent being transferred into the Vekker Class, assisting in recharging its own shields.
It may potentially be 60% to reinforce the Eriadu's Fist, but it would be enough to ensure that the Eriadu Fist's shields were reinforced and ready for the Kaga whenever it would process its slow maneuver to direct it's weapons to the attacking Alliance cruiser.
Each continuing volley of the PBOL ammunition plus the ACS shielding would serve to potentially weaken the section of the Kaga that would now be faced with one terrible certainty; the ramming of an impervium wedge-shaped prow near the aft section of the Kaga at full speed ahead.
A small beep of an incoming message cut the growing tension of the quickly approaching Vekker Class to the Kaga.
[ Attention, all Alliance vessels. I am Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber. The battle is lost, all that is left for us is the destruction of your fleet. Surrender now unconditionally, with your dignity and your lives, where you will be spared. Refuse this opportunity, and we will send you to the void...With extreme prejudice. You will have five minutes to consider our offer. I suggest you choose wisely.]
Choose wisely? Maira knew that she was in no position to say anything over open comm. This was entirely left to Admiral [member="Alexandra Morrow"].
"Lieutenant Kei, flick open comms."
"Aye, Commander." a quick tap of keys and switches brought the Commander's voice for those to hear.
[To the Captain of the Kaga; Happy Intergalactic Women's day.]
Only a few would understand, but then again, that was all that needed to be said.
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Maira shouted at her crew, as they all locked down their straps and secured themselves snugly into their chairs.
While the first volley's of the Kaga would strike at the Eriadu's Fist, so would the full ramming action of that impervium wedge-shaped prow right near the aft section of the Kaga, where the PBOL ammunition and the potential drain of the shields with the ACS energy siphons would have potentially left even the durable EMNERA Hull weaker than it had before.
Location: Hilikan Incineration Plant Vessel: No longer in U-Wing Objective: Purge Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Shamira Karuto"], [member="Gabriel Sionoma"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Adder"] Enemies: First Order, [member="Val Kordova"], [member="Mishel Ren"], [member="Caehl Ren"]. Engaging Caehl. Gear: Light Paddle, stealth blaster, another blaster, phrik armour (in sig), melee shield (in sig), vibroknife, lightsabre, no-show (no longer functional).
Moving at a rapid pace augmented by the Force, the male Ren unleashed a flurry of attacks, each strike coming in rapid succession. That he would throw himself at his opponent in such a manner despite his injuries indicated a stubborn character...that of a fanatical zealot. Kaida stood her ground as he launched himself at her.
She was not a passion and intensity fighter. Fire was not her element, ice was. Inside, she was as chilly as a blizzard. She would wait for the right moment to make her move. The mystical short sword that swept towards her armoured chest was caught by her battle shield. There was a loud, screeching sound when it connected, sliding down. Her blazing yellow lightsabre intercepted the stroke towards her throat. Their laser swords seared and cried, it was a song of unyielding, burning energy searing and seething with a great hiss as she deflected the strike.
She did not have things entirely her way, and so as his blade was pushed away, it scored a glancing blow on a less strongly armoured plate, causing a burn on her shoulder. She grit her teeth, working through the stab of searing pain. Almost as soon as their blades had collided, the Ren had leapt into the air and whilst in flight lashed out for her head, covered by a phrik helmet.
In response, the Angelii ducked, and, in a swift motion, spun around to face him once more. Her opponent was determined, but time and stamina could not be on his side. If he sought to go out in a blaze of glory, she would oblige him. The initiative was hers now, and so, at last, she struck.
Her feet were firmly planted on the ground when she unleashed a telekinetic punch towards his face. Rather than toss him, it was aimed to weaken his balance by delivering a strong blow. Moving in what seemed like a blur, her lightsabre hummed a beautiful song as she slashed at the Ren's left hip joint. Her battle shield was held ready to block his dagger or bash him.
Armorered Rearguard, First Order Forces Outpost Veers Hoth, Outer Rim
Captain Lyra Sunfell had been within a few hundred meters of the rear most First Order walker when she saw the figure atop the tauntaun on the flank of the armor battle's main engagement zone. Despite her now almost assuredly suicidal quest to exact some form of retribution on the Imperial tank battalion, such an out of place sight had given her pause. Though she didn't have much time to consider, as exposed as she was, the Mandalorian infantry commander swiftly weighed her options. She still had time to disengage, she could try a similar approach to the rider and try and get a closer look, but there were too many unknowns there. Too many unanswered questions. Was this being a friend or foe, did his arrival signal their salvation, that the entire battleplan had at least not completely fallen apart, or was he simply the first in another wave on First Order reinforcements, come to spell the ultimate and final doom of the Galactic Alliance's push onto the ice world?
In the end, she decided to press on. The chances were too slim that this new arrival would be a friendly one, and the pragmatic Twilight CO had chosen the chance to kill an entire tank crew over one lone Imperial scout. Continuing to crawl at a pace just slow enough to hopefully keep her off the scopes of any motion sensors the advanced First Order vehicles possessed, the salvaged disruptor cannon she had recovered from the wreckage of her downed command walker slung over her shoulder, and kept her eyes on the edge of the enemy battleline now not far in front of her. Lyra's first shot would have to count, because chances were she was not going to survive long enough to get another one. She had made her peace with that, content that this was her time so long as she died a warrior's death, and truth be told although grateful to the dying act of General Hagar for saving her life, she also felt somewhat cheated of that chance at a valiant end.
She had not expected to die shot in the back while crawling on her belly in the middle of a Hoth blizzard, so when she heard the whirring of the powering up carbine behind her, she closed her eyes and cursed the gods for their cruelty.
"Hold your fething fire!" the cry came in place of the expected fatal bolt, and the Captain tensed despite herself, "Holy Force, she's Alliance!"
Before she had even fully turned around, rough hands grasped her ankles, and despite her struggles in vain her unknown assailants were dragging her backwards, and somehow down. Although it all happened so fast, Lyra could not understand how that could be so, for she had just crawled over the same ground seconds ago and at had been completely level. A light from a helmet flashed suddenly in her face, blinding her in the suddenly darkened environment, and she found herself staring in the face of a hulking, shaggy furred monster. Her mind instantly racing from what she remembered of the planetary briefings to wampa, she struggled for her sidearm.
"Stand down, soldier!" another voice, speaking in Basic cried over the alien's plaintive bleating wails, "He's a Talz! And they're on our side!"
Looking at the other speaker for the first time, she realized to her amazement that the man was wearing the armor of an Alliance heavy trooper, and reholstered her weapon cautiously.
"I thought the Talz were fighting for the First Order," she said dumbly. There had been scattered reports of encroaching native elements before everything had gone to hell aboard the AT-SA.
"Most of the clans, sure," the trooper answered. He paused as the Talz spoke in its own strange, indecipherable tongue, "He says while many of his people have bought into the false promises of the Supreme Leader, a few clans remember promises made long ago to the Omega Protectorate. A few clans stand against the Empire."
"He said all that?" she asked, tilting her head to the side incredulously.
"More or less," the trooper admitted, shrugging and tapping his visor to indicate he was being fed a translation, "SIS spooks have been known to punch things up a little in the name of morale on occasion."
"Morale..." Lyra repeated dumbly, blinking as she processed her new surroundings, "What the feth are you all doing here?!"
"Keep it down!" the trooper shushed her, "What does it look like, Captain? We're your krayt spittin reinforcements!"
Now that she had had some time to reorient, Captain Sunfell realized she was dangling just under the outer lip of a freshly drilled tunnel. Held up at first by the hands of the Alliance special forces dangling all around her, they had quickly secured her with a harness so as not to risk her plummeting all the way down into one of the main tunnels below. Lyra had heard rumors about the Defense Force and Omega Pyre shipping in bulk quantities of industrial mining and drilling equipment, but the lifetime soldier had not fully realized just how efficient the highly advanced tunnel borers could be to not only have made it to Outpost Veers, but also apparently redirected to their general position.
"How?" she asked simply. General Hagar had never given the order for the next phase of the assault, and their walker was supposed to be the main point of contact with the Omega Prex from their assumedly safer position in the rear..
"Some Twilight lieutenant," the trooper answered offhandedly, "Reestablished comms with Kreelan, Stazi I think."
Stazi! if that mad little duros was still alive after all this she was going to put him up for a medal.
"Well?" she asked, "Whats the plan?"
"The plan," the trooper said with a slight edge, and as if to punctuate his point explosions could suddenly be heard nearby overhead, "Before you somehow wandered into the middle of our killbox, was coordinated anti-armor strikes with two other teams on either side of us. So if you'll excuse me, ma'am!"
Shoving his way past her, the trooper grabbed a shoulder mounted rocket launcher as it was passed from underneath and hefted it up over the lip of the tunnel. The auditory dampeners in her helmet activated at the roar of the anti-vehicle round boomed in the narrow confines of the manufactured tunnel. Far from enraged, Lyra grinned viciously in approval as she shoved her way alongside him, aligning her disruptor cannon on the flat plane of the tundra surface heedless of anti personnel fire that would surely soon be heading their way, and screamed the name of her company as she fired at the First Order walkers.
Frontlines Alliance Vanguard
All they had to do was hold out a little longer.
Easier said than done, Lieutenant Sol Stazi thought to himself as he assessed what little remained of the 50th Terminus Armored. Repulsortanks were exploding like fireworks displays under the barrage of the superior First Order firepower, and several of the protective 'wrecking ball formations' that had formed around the now sparse few AT-SEs were now mostly missing at least one of its Tactical Enforcers. Similar reports had come over garbled comm bursts about infantry losses and heavier First Order resistant outside and within the outpost than had been anticipated at this stage. They had not, however, been completely overwhelmed as was almost certainly the Imperial strategy with the overwhelming lightning strike approach. The Galactic Alliance Armed Forces may now be one of the largest fighting forces in the galaxy, but from the early days they were used to fighting outnumbered, and on an individual unit basis those traditions survived. On this day, the stormtroopers did not possess the sole monopoly on courage under fire.
Not a single one of them would rout. They would keep fighting, until the last walker stopped firing and the last hovertank went down.
The battle had now deteriorated to this point where battle lines were no longer becoming a useful distinction. In both the trenches outside the outpost and at the main clash point between the two armored forces, the lines had become blurred between where the Alliance positions ended and the Imperials' began. From a strategic vantage, Sol's men were very much in a tight spot. Boxed in on both sides, with the First Order walkers having cut off their rear while the outpost continued to pound on them with what remained of its strength, this was the type of scenario that could easily end in wholesale slaughter if they were not able to buy enough time.
Thankfully, they did not have to wait any longer, as explosions suddenly rocked the rear walkers of the First Order line that did not come from any Alliance tank.
"On your twelve, LT," the voice crackled through his comms, and for a moment Sol feared he was hearing ghosts.
"Captain Sunfell?" he asked uncertainly, drawing a jerking glance from the pilot of his by now lurching walker, "Ain't you dead?"
"Feels like," came the response, "I managed to link up with the Prex's team after my walker went down, we're at the location of your geotags and making harrying strikes along the Imperial line."
It wasn't exactly the overwhelming surge of reinforcements that would obliterate the First Order's remaining defenders as they had all been hoping, but Sol would take what he could get at this point.
"Status report?"
"Heavy initial losses, as anticipated," Stazi replied, wincing at a glancing round that streaked past his canopy as it barely missed them, "First Order sector response time was faster than we expected, kind of makes you wonder about Ison. I can patch you through to General Quinn, ma'am!"
"Quinn's alive? Thank Mandalore for that at least," her voice crackled through his visor's comms, "Yeah, LT. Put me through. Whats your status, by the way?"
"Haven't been hit yet, but we've taken a feth of a lot of blaster fire," he grunted out in between calling new targets and changes in velocity, "Our legs are sluggish, and the karker won't tell me but I think our gunner's been hit and is too fething proud to say so. What about-"
His transmission was interrupted as the world around them seemed to shudder suddenly, as the the basic rules of gravity had begun to shift in their vicinity. The shuddering quake sent Sol's already weakened Tactical Enforcer to its knees, and both the duros and his pilot slammed against the canopy duraglass painfully. The blow had knocked him out momentarily, and when he came back to he blearily asked for a status report before he realized he couldn't even understand his own words. Eventually, the quaking ceased and as the two tank operators crawled back more or less into their seats, the Lieutenant tried to peer out at the landscape from beneath a wall of snow that had blanketed their view.
"What the feth was that?" he asked again.
"I think it came from the Outpost!" the pilot responded, wheezing painfully, "I thought I saw some kind of explosion before we went down!"
Before we went down...
"Zinsk?!" Sol called out, referring to the walker's exterior gunner. There was no response.
"His vitals flatlined," the pilot said soberly, "He's gone."
"Motherkarkers!" Sol roared, slamming the console in front of him in rage and grief, "Get us the feth back on our feet, let's go!"
"We've lost our main gun, Lieutenant."
"We've still got the AP blasters!" he shot back over the internal comms, "And we can still ram the Sithspawn!"
As the crew of the Tactical Enforcer struggled to breathe back some life into the near mortally wounded walker, another chilling thought suddenly occurred to Sol. If the explosion had come from the nearby base, and it had been big enough to cause those kinds of quakes, then...the tunnels.
"Captain Sunfell! Captain Sunfell! Do you read?"
Alliance Tunnels Flanking First Order Rearguard
"Everyone alright?!" the trooper called out, Lyra had learned his name was Colonel Hal Varik, a Corellian native serving in the Alliance special forces.
She answered an affirmative almost in sync with the confirming bleats of their Talz representative, whose name she had most certainly not learned, despite several unsuccessful attempts. The explosion from the outpost had nearly collapsed the tunnel they were hanging in, and had partially buried it as a shower of dirt and rocks had rained down upon them, blunting their counterattack against the Imperial armor not long after it had begun and causing several injuries. Comm reports from one of the other tunnels indicated a similar scenario, and no response at all from the third led them to believe that it had likely caved in completely, burying those Alliance soldiers inside alive. In the heat of battle, and in such a compromised position, there would be no time for search and rescue operations.
"The Prex," Lyra breathed heavily as she assisted the efforts of manually digging their way back down into the main tunnel. With their position already betrayed, it was now a race against time to resecure their fallback route should the Imperials attempt to assault their tunnels directly.
Colonel Varik shrugged uncertainly, "Hopefully she survived, but so far we haven't been able to raise her."
"The First Order blew up their own base," saying the words out loud did not make them seem any less astounding to her, "With their own people inside."
"There's no anticipating the actions of fanatics," Varik answered, as if speaking from years of long experience dealing with just that, "Especially those corrupted by the Darkside."
"Now what?" she asked, "I mean, assuming we survive the next few minutes and all."
"In case we were for some reason unable to breach the Imperial defenses from underneath," Hal replied after pausing for a few seconds to consider, "Strategy Besh was to dig out a base of operations and bore tunnels for infantry reinforcements to bolster the primary surface advance, your boys in the Sixty-First. With the tunnels as unstable as they are now, I'm not sure how the first part of that is going to work out anymore, but right around the time the Prex sent us to reinforce Stazi, she also sent out another force I think under [member="Isar Kislo"] to create a safe breach point outside the warzone and see what he could do on the surface. We could maybe try to link up with them, rally the troops left in the tunnels and try to organize a concentrated push from below."
"And in the meantime we dig?" she asked, huffing with effort at handling the frozen soil.
"We dig," the Colonel agreed.
Summary of Actions
50th Terminus stands its ground in the face of superior numbers, suffers more heavy tank casualties.
Underground tunneling teams sent by [member="Aeron Kreelan"] appear behind the rear of the main First Order tank advance ([member="Asharad Graush"])
Tunnelers begin infantry anti-armor strikes on First Order walkers from a position of extreme cover.
Explosion triggered at Outpost Veers.
One tunnel buried and the firing speed on the others is reduced.
Not enough of the Belsavis Air Corps remains to be strategically effective, but several snowspeeders are still operational for fluff purposes.
It took absolutely none of Raziel's considerable telepathic prowess to see that something was wrong with the situation. He was sensitive to the Force more than a master of controlling the physical world. The slight tremble through the Force as warning was also unnecessary.
Had they been further from the First Order base Raziel would have put a bolt in the man's head and left him in the snow. Simple, clean. Now things were messy.
"Cuff him," Raziel said. If he was First Order then stunning him would have been a bad move for the contractors. If he was civilian it would have been questionable, but one death could be covered up.
"What are you really doing here?" Raziel asked. There was no time for subtlety. The wind was picking up, almost drowning out the sound of walkers laying into each other on the far side of the base.
The slender assassin took a step closer, hand resting on his holdout blasters. He had broken many minds both strong and fragile. The latter was perhaps the greater channels. Bryce would feel Raziel's influence probing the edges of his consciousness, testing his reaction before striking deeper.
The power of a god swelled through Draco's veins, burning in his chest. Unrelenting might. Know Draco understood why beings like the Dark Lord of the One Sith had been worshiped and hailed as deities. He was still barely on the scale they were registered on and the warrior understood why they lost touch with humanity, why they considered sentient beings their mere play things.
The Eaters of the Dead, and his second Rathgar now missing an arm, howled as they moved from the smoke and aura of death they left behind them, swelled by the blood of their enemies and their own siphoning of the being's power. Thermal Detonators detonated on their fallen to evaporate them and leave no good trace, and the Cult mounted the mountains, surveying their options.
An army of Talz had arrived to support the First Order, the easiest of prey. The primitive beings were effectively armed only with sticks and spears the beskar armored cannibals would be able to physically overpower them in droves. Chanting grew into a crescendo of harsh voices speaking an old language from a distant world and they charged at the Talz clan that arrived, each warrior unleashing their own favored Force powers as they sprinted or flew at the Talz supporting the First Order. Some prepared to use telekinetics to wave away any flurry of spears or arrows or whatever else the Talz came up with, others would unleash small bursts of lightning or swarms of ice shards until the beskar armored aliens could close to vicious melee where their shared attunement to the Oversoul and array of power axes and lightsabers cut them to pieces.
Draco, however turned his focus to the closest Vaderling of the First Order's followers rather than what he considered to be practically meaningless primitives of no value. Other than teaching those talz to fear those who followed the Dark Side, not follow them, there was nothing else to be done to them. Sometimes brainwashing was too thorough to scare out of people.
The former Sith Lord brought his attention to bare on [member="Kyrel Ren"] , newly re-energized from his duel even if still injured and physically tired, his abilities with the Force were just as strong as ever. Draco sought to close off and temporarily sever the being's connection to the Force, dampen his ability to call upon it, and suppress his ability to manifest the Force in any noticeable way, something he was very well versed in. Perhaps that would provide enough hardship on the man that he might grow to understand his place in the Galaxy. "If you are nothing without the Force, you already are nothing." The anonymous warrior mused to himself. From his perch on the mountain top, he was hidden from the senses of the Force users down below.
OOC: Apologies for the abbreviated header. Posting from mobile.
Location: Hoth, Outpost Veers
Objective: Mission of mercy
Allies: Team Smash
Interacting with:
[member="Arcana Altana"]
[member="Kira Solvani"]
Sometimes, the difference between life and death can be measured in millimeters.
Another step, and Rusty would have tumbled headlong into the yawning chasm that used to be the outpost. He had no superhuman powers or prescience to warn him. It was sheer luck, and a boulder the size of an astromech droid, that saved him from tumbling down into the maelstrom. Had he not checked up to avoid getting his head taken off, he would have been ground into little pieces by the churning rock and ice, a fate common to the poor bastards who hadn't been so lucky.
Instead of contemplating the life choices that led him to this moment, the Shard turned his attention to the source of the projectile, seeking to send some heavy hate back by way of reply. That situation, however, seemed to be well in hand. He didn't know who or what [member="Aver Brand"] was, aside from a temporary ally, but they seemed to have things under control. Which meant that the two Ren bleeding out into the snow were now his problem.
See, he hadn't had time to work out an amended contract with the Galactic Alliance. Normally, mercs on secret squirrel missions were given the chance to haggle over the details, and were usually exempt from things like rules concerning providing aid and care to wounded enemies. Rusty, however, was on a standard contract. Thus, he was required to follow the GA's rules concerning EPWs. And, with no living things in sight save for the two Ren women, that meant that they were his problem.
He could probably argue that he didn't have to take them into custody and treat their wounds, that exigent circumstances made it too risky, but he wasn't willing to bet his rather hefty paycheck to find out.
The Shard popped out of the trench and sprinted across the short distance to the fallen foes.
::Smash Six, this is Mr. Roboto. I've got two HVT's, attempting to take them into custody and extract."
Upon arrival, it was clear that the women were in bad shape. Hypovolemic shock would take them both soon, if hypothermia didn't get them first. He shrugged off his pack and pulled out his massive trauma kit.
"Ladies, I'm here to help. We'll work out the details later, but you're my prisoners until such a time that someone pays me well enough to repatriate you. If you object, lemme know after I've saved your lives."
And with that, he set to work.
Keeping these two alive was going to take something like a miracle, but hey, stranger things have happened.
The air was starting to get thin and since her producer [member="Arlen Rossi"] was inexplicably absent, Lydia and Nalyr were left to fend for themselves. The reporter went to the door and glanced over her shoulder at Nalyr, then heaved a sigh. "We need to get out of here and off this station." There was the problem of the hull breach; they mightn't be able to breathe in the main promenade. She cast her eyes around, narrowing at this and that as she examined their prospects. Things looked grim indeed.
Finally, she settled on a pair of large airtight bags. To answer Nalyr's questioning look, the young reporter offered an impish smile. "No, it's not a magic plan, we'll both probably die anyway, but we have to try, haven't we?" she demanded, a little bit manic. He stared back at her unblinkingly, silent, slightly terrified. She returned his gaze for a few moments, then beamed: "Excellent! That's the spirit!"
She unfurled one bag, handed it over to Nalyr, and then unfurled her own. She whooshed it around, capturing the atmosphere from the cooler. "We'll use them as air tanks," said Liddy to Nalyr. "The carbon dioxide we exhale will asphyxiate us, but if we can get to the stairwell, we can snag emergency breathers -- and if we can get to the Residential levels -- we might be able to get a shuttle or a yacht out of here." She took a deep breath, holding tightly to the bag. "Now or never, Nalyr."
She went to the door, took another breath, and then unsealed it and pushed the door open. The rushing sound had stopped; she wondered if it was the vacuum. But while it felt cold, it didn't quite feel vacuum of space cold. Lydia eased the door open, then stepped out, still resisting the urge to exhale. The gravity was still out, so she was able to easily fling herself across the dining room to the open door onto the Promenade. She cast an eye to the left -- towards the stairs -- and down to the right, where she suddenly realized why there was no rushing.
Something had blocked the rupture in the hull. There was a faint hissing, but it seemed like the atmosphere had held...
She exhaled experimentally, and then the journalist took a shaky breath and was pleased when she didn't die. Still, it was better to get to the emergency kits in the stairwell as quickly as she could, in case something else happened. "Nalyr," she called over her shoulder. "Come on, it's safe!"
Lydia pulled herself along the deckplates, pulling herself towards the stairwell. She wrenched the door seal open and pulled herself in. Nalyr, timidly followed along, slowly following her. "Nalyr!" she cried. "You've got to hurry! We'll die if we stay on this station. It's barely holding together as it is," she added as she heard some groaning and deckplates buckling somewhere else in the station. "My God, we need to hurry!"
"But my diner!" Nalyr whispered.
"You'll open a new one," Lydia shouted in exasperation. "Now get your ass in gear!"
Galidraani and prim as she was, some things demanded a little bit of a shove.
She hurled herself through the stairwell, maneuvering towards the residential level. One of these hangars had to have something left, Lydia reasoned -- or was it hoped? Meanwhile, the camdroid followed along loyally, broadcasting everything. Lydia picked her way across the residential level. It had clearly been abandoned in a rush. The few people who had been there in the middle of the station's work day were now gone, apparently. She wandered along the outer perimeter, checking for the residential hangar bay. Finally, she gained access. There was a pristine yacht parked in the middle of the bay.
"Don't suppose you can hotwire a ship," Lydia said, casting a glance at Nalyr.
"Have you got a hairpin?" he asked.
Lydia looked surprised and reached up to pluck a pin from her hair, shaking her head on instinct. In the lack of gravity, her hair simply went everywhere around her head, giving her a wild look. She handed him the pin and then followed him on board. Perhaps it wasn't wise to steal -- or comandeer -- a ship while live on the air, but she'd rather get a hand slapped by the First Order than to be killed when the station inevitably blew up, either by self-destruct or poor planning on the part of the Alliance terrorists.
A sudden idea struck her. Lydia turned to the droid. "See if you can patch me into the public address system." The droid beeped: the main control system is not locally accessible. "Override?" Beep: Negative. "Local network access?" Beep: Possibly. "Try that. Use whatever FOSB codes you have." A moment later, the droid blipped quietly. Lydia leaned in so she would be picked up by droid's microphone. "FIS Kuragin, this is Lydia Finn-Camden in Docking Bay 0427 in the residential section. We are attempting to start a ship but we have room for passengers. If you can get to the residential section and wish to leave this station, I strongly recommend you find the ship -- registry name -- " She glanced at the ship's registry documents on the wall in the cockpit. " -- Uppity Minx."
She turned back to Nalyr. "How are we doing?"
Nalyr had the cockpit panel open and was fiddling about with it inside, hairpin between his lips. "Not sure. Give me five minutes."
"We may not have five minutes," Lydia returned, her blood pressure spiking as she looked out the viewport.
This might end up being a pretty short journey, she mused.
Location: Hilikan Facility Objective: Make it to the control room fothe Hilikan Facility Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Kaida Taldir"] Enemies: First Order [member="Ara Ren"] [member="Caehl Ren"] [member="Val Kordova"] Engaging directly: [member="Caehl Ren"] Equipment: (First mentioned here)
She forced herself to wait, and wait for her opptertunity to attack the hurting Ren. She just stood behind Kaida, slowly spinning her lightsaber over and over, idlily pacing behind the pair’s duel. If the Ren so much as attempted to attack her or escape, Shamira would engage herself in the duel. Its not like she didn’t want to, but she knew it better than to engage if both Kaida and master Raaf decided to attack. More likely she would accidently hit one of her allies than the Ren. Looking to the master, hearing her plan, she nodded lightly, getting ready to get into the fight. Then, suddenly, the Ren began to attack ferociously at Kaida, before jumping over her and attempting to block master Raaf’s way out. Shamira’s face scrunched up in frustration at his move, prompting her to slowly begin to circle to the dark siders’ left side, so the three force users would put him in triangle of pain. She realized that no longer would she be able to sit back and not attack. Taking a deep breath, Shamira spun her lightsaber, re-assuming her Ataru stance. The Togruta spung forward, matching her speed with Kaida, who attacked the dark siders hip. She, instead, attacked at his legs with a low, sweeping strike meant to cut through the backs of his knees, and cut his legs off at the joints, totally immobilizing him.
