Private Stars of Plunder: Words and Blasters

[Hyara Hemstagon]

TAGS: Vulcan Krayt Cathryn Stellaris

"The smell..." the Armoured lookout muttered. His long black hair braided in a tail across the skull, while half his head was shaved, making space for the dragon-like tattoos that covered the skin. "Hey, 'least we getting some coin for this..." The nearby man replied. He too was armoured with similar Edikar power-armour, although his armour was not completely worn. The heat of the tropic moon turned them both in dumping parts of their armour back in the ship, keeping a large thin fabric cloth around them to soften the excess humidity.

Not far behind the two lookouts hovered, hardly a hundred meters above the jungle floor, hovered the large hulls of the two warships. Roughly half a kilometer of spiked, blood-red rusty hulls of the Athysian raider ships shadowed the makeshift camp built by the corsairs below... Tents, restacked trunks and branches to form a palisade wall, the corsairs were rather active... Almost in the middle of the camp, there was a somewhat larger, round tent, guarded by a couple of Trandoshan warriors.


"Waky waky, sunshine!"

The twisted playfulness of her voice slowly returns the bearded imperial to conciousness. He shakes his head, as his vision slowly returns. The long pale chain-like braids flowing down ahead the scale-armour covered chest of Hyara Hemstagon suddenly shock the man awake. "Who- Wha- What is this!?" he shouts.

"There, told'ya he's still alive!" Hyara Hemstagon says, as she waves her hands and head. A most excess body language put into use in her every word. Not far from her, Anmetei M'lo , a tall bulky nautolan corsair stood against his ivory walking stick, walking in a lame manner towards her, entering the Imperial's view. The alien picks the cigar from his mouth, exhaling the thick smoke. "Well, then.. I go tell te'cap'n... She's gonn'a send'e word to the rest of the pack...!" Meanwhile, the Imperial ambassador turns his already tense gaze to his hands; It would take little to recognize the black duct-like tape wrapped around his limbs, effectivelly making him part of the chair, as they were melted down with a flamer. Ofcourse, such materials were meant to be used for sealing hatches and patching holes in the fuel tanks. Their rather toxic composition was never a friend of the skin...


"Now, then..." Hyara Hemstagon says, as she turns to face the Imperial, now with Anmetei M'lo leaving the tent. Her sadistic smile forms, as she looks him up and down. "What do you want of me? Filth!" The Imperial's insult felt more like a complement, to her. "Relax..." she says, walking calmly across the tent, heading for the crate at the other side. He lightly strokes the man's beard as she passes by. He, ofcourse, shook his head, struggling to avoid the gesture. "What is the meaning of this?"

"See, ya head worths more attached on ya shoulder... But, this is to be decided by your big'ol bosses back in the Order..." she continues, as she opens the crate, picking a bottle from it. Dark glass, hardly recognizable liquid within. "Now, if you ain't worth the effort..." she mutters, turning over her shoulder, looking at the captured imperial with a disturbingly twisted smirk forming on her scarified face....

"Get'te ammo by the guns, ye rat-tailed wampa drops!" Nayr's barking echoes around the camp. The corsairs had been setting small MG blaster emplacements from the day they came. Although under the shadow of the massive hulls, the Witch-captains wanted to make sure any danger from the feral moon would be dealt with on the ground, while the fighters kept patrolling in small squadrons, ensuring any nearby ships or aerial attacks would be traced long before they reached the camp. The works were continuous; Palisades were set to form an enclosed perimeter, while the corsairs kept setting several makeshift turrets around the camp, should a feral predator, or worse, should an extraction was called, before the negotiatoin for the ransom was conducted. The Witch-Captains, given the rather sharp opinion on the New Imperial Order, gathered by the latest experience during the hostilities on Ilum, they expected an air strike. What best, besides inflicting wounds to force the Athysians come into terms...? Alas... Would that ever was a rightful estimate...?

 

[Cathryn Stellaris]

Hyara Hemstagon


Ember Team
Unidentified Location
NIV- Shadowspear



After Generis the Shadowspear had been redeployed to the border regions, COMPNOR expecting some action by the Maw and their like. It had come to pass and now Ember team found themselves in the hangar of the Shadowspear, loading ordinance onto their LAAT Patrol Gunship. Beside the medium craft the angular many angles of two TIE Defenders claimed most of the real estate. The panels on their sides were painted with red slashes, a testament to their pilots ability.

Ember 22 was locked into the pilot seat of their assault craft. The door to the bay whooshed open and they found themselves greeted by five black armored Stormcommandos. Boots beat across the shiny deck, clipping at a fast pace.

"Kresh Team reporting Commander."

She glanced up, locking her brown eyes into the visor of the Lt.

"You got it. Ramps there, and there's your seats. Strap in."

While the rest of the squadron moved into the craft the Lt stayed behind, unclipping his tactical data pad from his chest plate.

"Any recon on the objective?"

"Nope, nothing. Jungle is too dense to penetrate with scopes or long range surveillance from the Spear. We're going in blind. Smash and grab. Got an ambassador that's been snatched up. We have a location of his chain code and that's about it."

The Stormcommando cocked his head sideways.

"Any other deets?"

"Nope."

She rammed her TL-50 repeater into its holster on her thigh and scooped up her E-11.

"Welcome to the shitshow."

They strode in unison up the ramp, followed by the metallic clicks and whoooosh of the hydraulics. Her helmet comes crackled and the tell tale whine of ION engines roared to life in the bay.

"Spear Actual this Ember Two One requesting permission to launch."

"....."

"Permission Granted, happy hunting."

"Copy."

"Oh and Ember Two One...."

"Yes?"

"Don't screw this up."

She smirked and then nodded to Ember 22. He pressed the throttle raising them off the deck in a slow track for the exit.

"Ember 23, 24, keep tight formation to the LZ. Scopes on target and hold all fire unless I command."

"Copy all."​

The Patrol Gunship raced from the hangar, flanked by the crimson and obsidian TIE Defenders, towards the dense Jungle Moon....

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Most of his time had been taken up by setting up the guns around camp, the humidity making his hair frizz horribly or crackle periodically. Humidity does some really strange things. Some minutes of respite awaited them once they were done, good because his back gave him a tiny reminder that it hurt still. No matter it's a question of getting defensive structures up first, play later.

After 30 odd minutes, it was done and Vulcan can take a quick breather, his drink of choice was now his favourite, he took a few swigs, it felt good to see trees again and the mosquito-like biters that seemed to like his bunkmate a lot, the poor guy looked like a walking pincushion. It could be because he was a Duros? The ambient still of the jungle was relaxing.

But the calm didn't last however as Nyr's voice barked around camp, and this time it is heard without background pandemonium drowning it out. The ammunition crates need to be placed beside the guns, not a problem.

Vulcan did not need to be told twice, he was already helping to get the ammo to the guns, drink all but ignored. He gave a slight pause, utter bewilderment crossing his face at Nyr's comment about Wampa drops. He was elbowed in the arm by another Corsair in a 'get moving' gesture and Vulcan obliged. He and a few others set the munitions near the gun arrays before giving another pair a hand with their own crate.

Vulcan had to dart away as a crate came very close to him and his feet. Exchanges were had and everyone set into a rhythm of work that made the crate shifting run somewhat smoothly, with the occasional verbal ding dong over what speed they should be getting the crates to the guns.

 

[Hyara Hemstagon]

"C'own'en! Get'o'movin' ya lot!" Slapjoe's shouting popped in, as he jumped over the sandbag-built wall by the turret. Underneath, the crew kept bringing in the heavy munition crates. The clearly irritated corsairs around the crate grin, as they struggle to hold up the heavy load, while at the same time not burst into violence by the irritating presence of the alien. "Why don't'ye bring ye fething arse over, give'us'a hand!?" one of them shouts to Slapjoe. "Nay, nay! Bo'sn tasked me ta watch'ova! No funny business!"

"I'll get up there and do som'funny business in yo face!" The corsair barks.

The tense debate suddenly halts, as the iron weighted boots of he figure hits against a rock, clearly to attract attention. The heavy cybernetic work onto the alien's body menacing on its own; The rest knew better than to challenge their fates...

Hyara Hemstagon walks out the tent, using her palms to throw her braided hair out of her eye's sight. The eyepatch well shadowed by the several braids dropping before it. Alas, little need to notice, even less ability to do so. She looks over the still-setting camp. With two of her fingers, she clears her chin, under the lip. So many ideas cross her head... A well-hidden moon. Dense, feral; Perfect for a hideout. Should this proves profitable, what would stop her and the Sisters from setting up a post, to further exploit the riches of the New Imperial Order? Nothing... The Sisters had paid attention to keep their tracks hidden, ensuring they were not followed, or tracked by Imperial tracking, after the raid on that corvette. Deep enough in Imperial territory, such a move was a rather risky endeavour. Alas, it seemed to go all too well for them...

"M'lo!" Hyara Hemstagon shouts over the camp, to the tall nautolan standing along with few other corsairs, as they planned the defenses. He turns over his shoulder, fully turning around the axis of his walking stick as soon as he realizes who addressed him. "Cap'n Hyara!" he says. The cigar pops up and down between his lips, as his teeth form the words.
"I want you to get few of your men together for the night. Patrol the perimeter. We dont wanna have surprises..."
"Surprises? None followed. Doubt any'ven knows te moon, Cap'n. Soon'as we get te walls up, we got'urselves'a fortress!"
Her eye narrows, with a yellow spark blazing from within.
"I want your men. Patrolling." she states, with her voice suddenly spiking in a much more serious tone. Anmetei M'lo keeps his eyes on her. He nods on her words.

"Aye, will see'it done"



As soon as the munition is placed and secured, the corsairs take a breath. Some pick their flasks, drinking bit of water to counter the excess heat of the feral moon. "Dam, that was tough!"

The camp had no gates. It wasn't meant for any to enter, or leave. Behind the makeshift walls of steel sheets, palisades and sandbags, few of the corsairs kept watch. Calm, with their blasters in their embrace, as they counted the minutes till their watch ends... Over the camp, the to large hulls of the Destroyers casted their shadow, softening the heat of the location...

Deep in the wilderness, the Edikar lookouts, in groups of 4, patrolled...

It was calm....

 

[Cathryn Stellaris]

Hyara Hemstagon


Ember Team
Unidentified Location
Drop Ship- Inbound To surface

"We're coming in bout a thousand meters from the site."

She poked her head into the cockpit, and her eyes went wide.

"What the hell are those destroyers doing hovering over there?"

"Dunno, but they definitely see us. Any element of surprise is probably gone now."

"Chit."

She turned back to the cabin.

"Kresh Team, grab your chit. We're doing a hot disembark."

"Roger that."

Commandos rose, un snapping their crash harnesses. Ember Two Two knew what to do, he dove them deep through the canopy. Branches smashed into the windshield and across their flanks, raking the again gray paint. The ramp opened with a guttural whir.

"Slow speed to disembark."

They jumped down the platform, throwing bodies and kitbags over the precipice. It was a three foot fall, but it hit hard, knocking her wind out as she rolled. The LAAT Patrol Gunship peeled off in the opposite direction, and the Defenders skimmed the trees providing top cover as they exfiled.

"Kresh One setting perimeter."

She grunted and got her feet, eyes darting around the area. One hand ripped her TL-50 free of the leg sheath, holding it high ready.

"Ember Two Two, return to base and standby for a second drop. Kresh One, you brought drones and DLT rifles I assume."

"Roger that."

"Get those drones up, I need to see what the hell we're dealing with..."

She squatted in the center of the small patrol base, eyes scanning the dense woodline. Her helmet system picked up no movement, nor toxins in the area. Windspeed was 3mph in the southerly direction. The sun was just beginning to set casting the moon jungle scape in a dusky shadowy hell scape.

There's way too many angles to cover here.​

Beside her the Stormcommando Commo geek sent up a drone, snapping hit data pad from his chest and skimming it with precision over the trees. It was small recon droid, no bigger than a pack of cards.

"Eye's will be on in five."

"Close the formation, all prone. Hurry up with that recon."

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

That took longer than expected, well obviously as there were no droids to help. Vulcan enjoyed the shade, it offered respite from the heat. Pincushion had taken to scratching his bitten skin with a gun brush. The biters really, really love him. Well, that's what you get for not putting on a tunic with long sleeves on.

Pincushion went back to his tent in defeat. Not that he was weak, but he couldn't be useful when he has clouds of biters following him.

Vulcan offered to take up the watch at the next shift, the crates were all in position and so far nothing has gone wrong, no one got squished, no one got anything broken and no one died, yet. All in all, it was smooth. Which was surprising, even to him. As soon as the shift turnover occurred Vulcan took up the post, alert and keeping a watchful eye out for interlopers.

All the while sipping from his own water flask. Physical labour takes it out of you, more so in the heat. Not that he cared either way, as long as he did his bit. So far, all is clear and nothing looked out of place in the jungle. The ambient noises unchanged except, for a new bird song added in. He vaguely remembers being taught that animals change sounds when danger is near and to listen for it.

If anything happens during the calm he'll be ready to help defend the camp where necessary. He is after all a Corsair and all this was part of the job description. Sentry duty included. Suddenly he began to wonder if he should ask what Nyr means when he says Wampa drops, all these words had him befuddled, shaking his head, he returned his focus to his duties, such things can wait, at least for a bit.

 

[Hyara Hemstagon]

The fighter squadrons fly fast to the distance, in the jungle, after forming up in two large swarms. Twelve Buzzers, led by two Hoplite fighters, one ahead of the wedge-like swarm. As they fly over the camp, accelerating in high speed, the tents' fabrics weave. Hyara Hemstagon follows the fighters with her eye. She narrows her eyebrow. "They are here...." she mutters. She didn't like it. Although none could be certain the craft detected was an Imperial one, she knew it was too dramatic to be coincidence.

"Alert the guards. Send word to my scouts. Eyes double"

Word quickly reaches the guards by the sandbags. "Someone is in the jungle. Keep your eyes open!"
The Edikar lookouts were scattered in the jungle's nearby wilderness. They were capable in the art of ambush. Although their blood red armours was easy to spot, on the ground, they jumped up on the high branches of the towering trees, covering themselves amidst the flora, while their rifles were at the ready, wrapped with thick brown fabric, perfectly blending the barrels with the wood.

"I don't like this... Not one bit..." said Anmetei, with his eyes looking out to the wilds. Next to him, Nayr shook his head. "We should be'a'board. What's e point being 'ere?"

"Capn's orders..." Anmetei M'lo muttered, bitting once more onto his cigar for a long inhale. "Cap'n said there's gonna be blasterfire in the night... If the fighters return intact, keep some men onboard. Ya might need'a work the Turbolasers...."

Nayr shook his head, unwilling or unable to see any purpose in this. "Will get'e scrap fighters on alert..."


"Oi'lad! Oi!" Slapjoe shouted towards Vulcan Krayt as he approached him. His legs grasping onto a hand cannon, while the arms carrying the strange alien across the makeshift rampat. "Y'a heard'a newz? Boss want'a'ear de post! We goin'ome, after'is! Whatch'a'gonna do while she's'in repairs? Bantha'roun with chickz? Make'o'own deal, down te city?"

The several corsairs held post by the walls. Although works were hardly over, most of the cutthroats were allowed a night's rest... No light emitting from the camp. The very campfires were concealed within the tents, while the watchdogs were given night-vision binoculars... Pirates they may be, yet there was a strange organization within their ranks. Hardly any brawls; Hardly any disciplinary issues, or atleast as of yet... Above the black-shrouded camp, onboard the Soudforz, work was not halted...

The cabin was dark; Only the flickering light of the small candle shed light, dim, making hardly the nearby table it was on visible. A wooden table; Finest craftsmanship, although ill-maintained. Next to the candle, lied a small vile. The thin, long-fingered palms of her slowly emerged from the surrounding darkness. Tattoos of alien, ritualistic-like shapes covered the skin of her hands. Her black nailed fingers brought forth the tinny drop of liquid. It stood mid-air, in her palm, with the invisible hand of the Force holding it in its unreal position, as she guided it over the vile...
"The spit..." She muttered, "Who speaks the truth..." The tinny drop falls into the vile, perfectly fitting through. The liquid inside the vile started emitting a purple smoke... "There, you find the answer..." she continued. Her voice whispering, hardly told by the breath. Soft; With little soul projected from the emotionless words. Her yellow eyes blazing, inbetween the shadow that surrounded her...

On the ground camp, Hyara Hemstagon walked towards the shuttle. She stops, as her senses caught what the eyes could not... She looks up, to the Soudforz's underkeel. The very warships now stood as black shadows, inbetween the starlit sky, who casted a strange, illusion-like light across the moon. Her one-eyed gaze sparks. "Hmm...."

The shuttle flies towards the Destroyers, under the cover of night.. No light is lit for guiding or marking the shuttle's presence...

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

The light closed in and the shadows grew long and there was another shift change, still, the Ubese stayed where he is scanning the edge of the jungle for interlopers, although the wildlife grew quieter as the hour stretched on. Quite normal as it darkened, his vigil was derailed suddenly by a loud voice, Slapjoe ran up to where he was and informed him that he needed to get to his post pronto.

Slapjoe didn't need to tell him twice, Vulcan got up abruptly and headed back, not stopping as he strode towards his post. Apparently, it's showtime. Although he did find himself slowing down a tad as he considered the last part of what Slapjoe said, he slowly looked back at the Dug completely and truly flabbergasted as his mind tried to wrap itself around the sudden mental image.

<"Bantha round with .. chicks? Wha-?"> He asks completely lost, what would a Bantha be doing around poultry he wondered as he resumed his path back to the ship.

But trying to unpick that sentence will have to wait, he finally reached the ship and headed straight to his post, when the inevitable fight does come to their doorstep, he'll be right there riding the maelstrom of Chaos.

It's almost like second nature, after all, somehow even brief moments of tranquil calm can disappear. Well, when a Galaxy decides to have convulsions, everyone feels it. Besides they did have an Imperial as a 'guest' after all which wouldn't have gone unnoticed for long.

Csilla was something big and loud that demanded notice by everyone across the board, he heard alright. It was on every broadcast channel on HoloNet. This was quieter more discreet, well as far as he could tell from various conversations here and there, he wasn't above eavesdropping where he could.

 

[Cathryn Stellaris]

Hyara Hemstagon Vulcan Krayt

Ember 21 + Kresh Team
Jungle Floor | 1000m from target
Status: Recon

No sooner had the enemies fighters ripped off after the dropship did the drone pick them up. Kresh One was busy relaying tactical data to her own datapad, which she was watching with interest. Meanwhile the rest of the team in the brush had switched to prone position and kept up their over watch.

"Looks like they are dug in heavy. We need to bring in more support. No way I can do this with just you guys."

Kresh two one nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the Woodline from his position kneeling next to her.

"We have fighters in pursuit of the rest of Ember."

Cathryn nodded.

"Ember two two be advised, you;re being pursued by a large squadron."

The comms crackled for a moment with static before Ember 22 responded.

"Affirmative, we already broke atmo. Docking in five. Anything you need?"

"Bring down another squadron of Storm Commandos or whatever you can find. I'll take some bikes, Z-74's should be packed away in the hangar. Additionally, I'll need a really big gun."

"Z-6 Rotary Cannon?"

"Probably. Bring it."

"I'll be down in ten."

She switched channels to the TACOM for NIV Shadowspear.

"Shadowspear Actual, I need a fire mission."

"Send it."

"I'm marking and passing coordinate tags to you now. Game plan for precision targeting east west, cyclic, ordinance is turbolaser only."

"Copy all, we will be ready in three mikes..."

Ember 22
Hangar | NIV Shadowspear
Loading

The ramp to the shuttle dropped open. Ember 22 had already radioed ahead, requisitioning the necessary accoutrements to the hangar. Two squadrons of Stormtroopers rolled up the ramp in a hurry. One hefted a large rotary blaster, followed by a squadron of storm commandos riding bikes.

"Can only fit two."

"That's fine, close the door, hurry up. They're exposed down there."


Ember 23 | 24
TIE Defenders
Flipping a U
Jungle

Meanwhile the ION engines of the TIE Defenders screamed like banshees as they pilots of Ember pushed them to the limits. They had broken of from the escort and continued across the jungle canopy in a bid to draw off the attacking force of fighter. Ember 24 flipped nose over tail followed in quick succession from Ember 25 reversing course to bear down on the enemy fighters last known trajectory.

"Ember 25 going high."

"I have low, ready on Concussion Missiles."

"Copy."

25 slit off, climbing impossibly fast in the Defender. Both pilots thumbed their arming switches for concussion missiles, and redirected their shields forwards. 25 kept his hand over the power relay, ready to blast power into the weapons systems and cut the throttle the moment they engaged their marks.

"I see them up ahead, 900 meters and closing."

"Copy all, beginning dive now."

The Starfighter brawl was about to begin, and it would prove to be brutal....

 

[Hyara Hemstagon]

ZZZZZZZZZZZZRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

The fighter squadrons fly in high speed over the jungle. On each of the two wedges, a Hoplite leads on... In the cockpit, the bald pilot sat, almost immobile by the several wires and cables, attached on his cybernetic enhancements that caved in under his skin. His bionic eye shined red, while his normal one yellow, tainted by the Dark Side's infernal kiss.
"Katath, see anything?" He asks.
"Bollocks! They fled!" Katath replied.
"Form up on my 6, get high. We can reach these two banthas"
"They ain't those from Ilum... 'least they put up a fight!"
"On my 6, Katath. We made a deal, you draw first blood. Keep those Naefar Buzzers at bay..."

The two squadrons split. The first keeps course in low, hardly 500 meters from the jungle's ceiling, while Katath's squadron turn to a sharp climb vertically up. The rather loud engines of the Buzzers echoed for kilometers away, across the jungle. The first squadron kept a wedge-ike formation, although rather tight, while Katath formed up his fighters in an eagle-like pattern, as he reached out for the stars...

The first squadron continued low, trailing back the path of the two TIE fighters, or atleast what the Hoplite speculated to be....
Katath wasn't the one to wait, however... His anxiousness for fresh blood drew his hand more and more to push the accelerator. And so he did; He leads his fighters straight up against the TIEs, as he keeps them tracked on his sensor.

"There's our prey; B-1, 3 and 2, Get higher, cover our 12. The rest on me... " Katath said, as he unclipped the ignition buttons, checking on the targeting system... The cockpit's console was rather rusty; Several of the glass-covers of the projectors and meters were burned by the sparks of Force Lightning that occasionally sparked from the pilot's arms, as he tamed the rather violent war craft.

The Athysian squadron kept on the pursuit of the TIEs. Although in range, they did not open fire... They seemed to wait. Progressivelly, the Buzzers were picking up both speed and altitude, clearly attempting to reach further higher than the TIEs, while the rest 4 kept to their tail, possibly already locking them on their targeting screens... Katath stares with his furious eyes at the TIEs on his screen. His scarred lips grin.

"Blast'em"

Suddenly, all fighters both above and astern of the TIEs unleash a sudden plasma barrage, aimed well at the two!


"WHAT IN TE BILLION HUTT'S GUTS ARE YA DOING'ERE!??"

Nayr screams in a boiling rage as he sees Vulcan Krayt in the camp. "Who's at ya post!? What'e'hell ya doing here!?!?!?!??"
His roaring voice causes the bird-like creatures resting at the branches of the surrounding jungle to burst in a flying retreat, as they would do so, should a gunshot was heard. Nayr's attitude was by far not a secret onboard the Soudforz... His short, hot temper was a subject of both fear and respect.

The corsairs resting in the nearby tents turn and look at the towering Weequay over Vulcan Krayt . They all knew what these screams meant well enough. They also knew the Ubese was almost every single time the most by-the-book you could get onboard the Soudforz... An interesting scene to see, what happens to Alpha when it gets a Beta...

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

When he got to his ship post all hell broke loose, the volume was what caught the Ubese off guard, it had enveloped his senses cutting off everything from the forefront. Even the recent thing about Bantha and poultry. Now, this is what greeted him a raging angry Weequay.

Oh hell. He could swear his ears popped, the towering figure above him was yelling at him. He realised he left his post to come here to another post. But the accents made it harder to decipher any meaning. So now here he is in trouble. He could have sworn Slapjoe told him to come here unless he got it wrong? So his mind raced to try to think of something.

< "I was told to come here." > He says, keeping his tone steady, not wanting to make this any more troubling than it is already.

no other being registered in his vision, it was just himself and Nyr. It is funny how things seem to press in when everything around is angry and the sensation of eyes being on him didn't help the pit in his stomach shrink, yet despite the rage and yelling Vulcan did not waver or shrink away, his ears hurt from the volume and they'll ring for hours afterwards. But he dare not move or flinch. Something told him to stand his ground here.

< "Slapjoe told me to come to my post." > He adds truthfully, and to the best of his knowledge at the time. He is going to either die here or get thrown off something. What a way to go. Alas, this is the predicament he faces here. Not his fault he was literal.

So he waited to see what happened next if he could want to know such a thing, it may mean he'll get shot at or hit.

 

[Cathryn Stellaris]

Hyara Hemstagon Vulcan Krayt

Ember 23 | 24
TIE Defenders
ENGAGING IN DOGFIGHT
Jungle

"25 they're climbing to meet you."

"Affirmative."

It was all they could speak before a storm of plasma fire engulfed them. Ember 24 weave left and right, dumping power from the engines into his shields. The majority of the hits flickered and splashed in crimson and green arcs across the shield. And then it died. He zigg zagged into the group, unleashing a barrage of volatile concussion missiles into their midst.

Ember 25 managed to dump his own payload before he was also engaged. Death rained from above and on all sides of the squadron above the trees. 25 felt a shot ping off his hull and grimaced.

"Taking heavy fire! Bailing!"

24 frowned inside his helmet as he weaved his Z pattern following up both barrages with concentrated streams of blaster fire.

"Coming to support, break vertical."

"Copy"

What 24 didn't know was that a stabilizer had been shattered by blaster fire, and as he pulled up his craft wobbled and struggled to turn.

"Damn, I'm hit hard 25! Lost a stabilizer"

"Moving to cover, fly straight, spin. Maneuver aurek 2."

Both craft pitched vertical to the sky then diagonal right, barrel rolling rom the killzone.

"I'm pitching a U. Go long."

Then in unison the Defenders braked and flipped, Ember 25 taking significantly longer. By the time he had completed the maneuver 24 was pulling ahead, laying into the fighter formation with another salvo of quadruple laser cannon fire. Streaks of emerald skimmed the trees and burnt the ozone into acrid wisps of smoke. Luckily that meant Ember 24 was in a unique position to throttle back and cover his wingman's 6.



Ember 22
Hangar | NIV Shadowspear
Loading

The LAAT Patrol craft ripped from the hangar, this time flanked by a pair of TIE S/F Fighter, flown by the Special Operation Pilots aboard the Spear. They raced through flame and cloud alike. At 10,000 AGL Ember 22 broke away. The TIE S/F Pilots ripped vertical to the landscape, closing in on the engagement zone where the fighters were clashing from the Southwest.

"Ember 22 I'm coming Two One!"

"Hurry.....UP!"​

Ember 22 chuckled and slammed the throttle as far as he could push it, dumping the weapons energy into the twin ION engines.


Ember 21 + Kresh Team
Jungle Floor | 1000m from target
Status: Recon | Planning Assault


Meanwhile on the ground Kresh One and Ember Two One discussed their options. They'd come to the agreement that the compound or base was well defended and they'd need to use shock and violence of action to breach the perimeter. So far they'd identified the pallisade, MG positions and the middle tent.

"I'm guessing that's where our man is." The Stormcommando Lt. Stated.

Cathryn nodded.

"Has to be. As soon as these bikes and extra squad get here we'll send our maneuver elements to engage, then I'll open up the fire mission with the spear. Should give us a solid opening to punch through their line and snatch the guy."

Kresh One glanced up at the high pitched whine of the sky as Ember 23's LAAT Patrol Craft parted the trees and kicked up dust into brownout conditions.

"Speak of the devil. We need to move fast."

"Agreed."

"I'll send Kresh team ahead to screen the main assault. Hopefully they brought backup."

As the ramp lowered two feet above the ground she grinned and pumped her fist. Two squads of Stormtroopers jumped the distance down, followed by two 74-Z Speeder bikes roaring off the ramp and dropping before their repulsors caught them.

"Aurek Squadron, 1st Stormcommandos. We brought some of the regulars as well. Cant hurt to have extra trigger hounds ready to get at it."

Cathyrn nodded her head upwards.

"Welcome to the party, now give me the bike."