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Location: In route to the Space port Objective: Capture Space Port for Republic forces Allies: Kian Karr, 20 Republic infantry Enemies: Sith forces.
As the fire intensified one of the other transports blew looked like #2 got hit. She braced herself as they flew in towards their destination. Her heart raced as she checked her combat armor to ensure along with her dark green robes were ready to go and secured to her. This was going to be a major engagement and it'd be much rougher than even she thought.
LOCATION: Prak city spaceport OBJECTIVE: 1 ALLIES: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Darth Praelior"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Ronan Dyre"] ENEMIES: [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Catherine Soja"] | The Pubs headed for the spaceport
_______________________________________________
As soon as the Sith Lord sent her his coordinates, the firrerreo moved out for the marked location. If the commotion — and the deliciously foreboding, yet typically cryptic statement uttered by Reverance — were of any indication, her whole day was about to get a whole lot worse. Still, it couldn't be quite as bad as the welcome Prakith was about to serve to whoever had been dumb enough to try and attack the single most defended planet in Sith space.
Unbelievable, snorted the woman as the sounds of her feet hitting the alloy floor were joined by a myriad of others, and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions; throes of Yuuzhan Vong were pouring from various rooms and corridors, looking about ready to kill.
What got your panties in a twist? Vrag wisely kept the remark to herself, suddenly immensely glad that the monsters were incapable of reading minds. Well, at least the regular ones. A small shudder ran down her spine at the thought of their bigger, far more grotesque counterparts, and the Sith found it almost ironic, really; to be disgusted by something entirely organic, when she'd witnessed the annihilation of whole worlds at the hands of far more sinister technology.
Her path led her through one of the hangars — already crawling with activity — and usually the woman wouldn't have spared the crowd a second glance. This time, however, something familiar caught her attention in the corner of her eye, and Vrag nearly tripped over her own feet when she skidded to a halt.
"Hey, Iron Maiden!" she shouted to the petite Sith Lord who packed far more punch than her size would lead one to believe. It was both funny and a little odd to encounter her in the middle of this mess, but the firrerreo wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and the sorceress would make for an invaluable ally in what looked to be an upcoming assault.
Location: High Orbit - Prakith, Enroute to Citadel Objective: 2 - Citadel Inquisitorious - Destroy Allies: [member="Corvus Raaf"] | [member="Lan Graendal"] | The Galactic Republic | The Jedi Order | Other Allies Foes: [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Darth Nephthys"] | The One Sith
While Master Raaf wrestled with her demons, the seer had been examining his own in the clean mindspace of meditation, where senses expanded far beyond the outermost reach of the physical self, and where the tendrils of the hours, days, and years to come reached out to his psyche; this was a thing he once feared courting, so many years before. This was his preparation. Each Jedi aboard this ship did what they must to prepare, beforehand and en route, but there was nothing - nothing - one could ever truly do to be absolutely, unequivocally ready for walking into the maw of the Beast of their own free will. That being said, it was long ago that he'd done away with the shaking nerves and self doubt. Whatever came, he would bear it. Victory, defeat, capture... and the outlier, death. The Force gave him no indication of his own steps at this juncture in his path, but his faith was strong - in the Force, at least.
The same could not be said for his identity. It was becoming apparent that there were problems, and it was getting more and more difficult to conceal what was going on in his mind when it was pushing out as it had that day on Ossus, when Manaan fell. The only face that knew his concerns well was the pages of his journals - images and voices showing up in his mind that were barely distinguishable from the visions he was accustomed to: flashes of someone else, sometime else and he had not a clue what it all meant. The scribbles and sketches pertaining to this read with the bent of a man losing his grip on reality, and he had to wonder if perhaps he was. Perhaps he had been, ever since her. Since Isolda.
Whatever may come, he had little doubt that she would be here. So, too, might there be more answers for the sea of questions his life was turning into. Soon another master came around, the green one he had seen before but had barely any acquaintance with. He watched, listened to Graendal's words to the worry-creased Raaf. When Graendal said 'come' to her, he too followed.
Location: Shuttle on the way to spaceport. Objective: Capture Spaceport Allies: [member="Kian Karr"] [member="Ayden Quell"] Republic Enemies: One Sith
Rael held onto a small handle on the inside of the shuttle. He looked around at the others with him. Master Karr, Ayden. He'd met both of them briefly. The Kaleesh was excited, he was doing this without his master, [member="Gherron Vael"] . Now, that didn't mean Rael wasn't going to try his best. He looked at Master Karr again, reminding himself how much he wanted to prove himself. Even though he'd never had a conversation with the Jedi Master, he felt the need to impress him. Perhaps it was because he was the only non-human Master Rael had met. He shrugged off the thoughts, and returned to the mission at hand. "Master Karr, where'll you two be going when we get down there?"
The Padawan rested his hand on his belt after he asked the question. Rael was wearing the armor he had fit to his body. (In sig) The standard Jedi armor didn't fit around his kaleesh body. He pulled his hood up over his head with his free hand. The only skin showing on his body were his eyes, and his hands. His face, per usual, was hidden behind a stark white bonemask, with strange and intricate tribal paintings on it. Rael had redone them just for the upcoming fight. Even with the Jedi, he was a Kaleesh at heart.
The comlink on her wrist spit out only static, the orders on the other side lost. So she decided to head to the spaceport itself, hoping others had rallied there already. She dodged and weaved her way through the mass of bodies that were heading to their designated battle stations, avoiding a couple of collisions along the way.
As she was reaching the spaceport, she saw several people there already. She elbowed and shoved her way through the crowd trying to find someone that could explain to her what was going on. She earned several looks but ignored them. She didn't have the patience to engage in banter at the moment. She spilled out of the crowd and saw to familiar faces, and moved to their location.
"Master [member="Matsu Xiangu"], we thought you already departed for home? Is it true, Master...has the Republic come here?" Turning to another of the familar faces, she nodded at [member="Vrag"]. "We should have expected you would be here. It seems every time there is fighting to be done, we manage to end up in the same hell hole."
Location: Orbit, en route to Prakith.
Objective: Citadel
Allies: [member="Corvus Raaf"] | [member="Jannik Morlandt"] | [member="Lan Graendal"]
Enemies: Sith Forces on the ground
"Ready to drop?" Stanley asked through the pod speakers.
Book leaned back in his chair, and chimed in to the Republic comm frequency.
There he aimed to contact the transport housing [member="Corvus Raaf"], [member="Jannik Morlandt"], and [member="Lan Graendal"]. The quick communication might reach them now, or at a later time. What mattered was that they received it.
"This is Dreadguard Zero-Eight preparing to drop from upper atmosphere. I'll be angling in to link up with you bathrobe folks. Keep an eye out for my FoF tag. Happy hunting."
Book clicked off the comm set, and breathed a heavy sigh. This was always the worst part.
"Drop me Stanley."
Something heavy and metal shifted just outside the pod. Then it was falling.
Book felt as if his insides were being pulled upward toward his rob cage. The blinding light of the sun made him squint, even when his visor tint adjusted to accommodate.
The pod was falling at a rapid rate toward the planet below. With luck, Book would land near the Jedi - if they actually made it. A single man pod was difficult to hit. A ship full of people...well, Book had put his life in the hands of Stanley and the drop pod for a reason.
LOCATION: Prak City Spaceport OBJECTIVE:1, Defend Spaceport ALLIES: Himself. Maybe [member="Matsu Xiangu"] ENEMIES: You SOUNDTRACK:"Strange Weather" by Tom Waits ______________________________________
You barely had to say War anymore, barely had to think it, and the Trenchcoat Man was there, circling the battlefield like a bored vulture; looming over your shoulder like dismal failure, jealousy, or death. Sometimes he wondered if this madness was just one more that followed him about, as if bad weather came with his overcoat. He liked that image, he liked that cloud of grey by storm or cigarette. It’s why he got into this game.
So he thought anyway. So he told himself.
He had pulled himself together from the breakdown moments ago, trading hopelessness for not-quite-just-yet, appearing obtrusively in the spaceport like some mole you couldn’t just bite off; shoulder-checking deserters, contaminating the oxygen of those in denial, and making fun of pretty girls who just wanted to commit ultraviolence with their mates.
“Oi, Iron Maiden,” he called to Matsu, slagging off [member=Vrag]. All cigarette, broken fanged grin, and arrogance, even as she was approached by [member="Darth Venefica"].
Location: The Citadel Objective: Protect the Citadel Allies: One Sith [member="Darth Nephthys"] [member="Sena Lassiter"] etc. Enemies: The Republic
Crouched like an animal ready to spring a trap on its prey the Hound stayed, perched on a one of the many spires of the great Citadel. The Hound stood at the ready. The alarms blared, his eyes narrowed. The Republic had come, though whether or not their name or their purpose meant anything to the mindless husk of a man could be debated. Standing from his perch he, or rather it took a step forward. He fell from his spire, the wind blowing his long orange hair and red mane wildly.
The Hound of Vhal knew no loyalty but to the Goddess, a true and devout being. He was created to serve, a manifestation of her true destructive power. Wild and untamed he would fall onto the Republic forces like a force of nature herself. Calling on the Dark Side of the Force, he began to slow his fall, for though his body was strong, it was not invincible.
He landed with a crash, his fall shattering the ground beneath his feet. It towering over the foot soldiers of the Republic. There was a quiet moment, the silence thick with fear. His appearance was that of a beast of Chaos itself. The deep black sockets one could only assume held eyes stared back at them angrily, the wind passing through them, breaking the silence as it rustled the black battle skirt it wore.
It growled staring them down.
A man shouldered his rifle. Her last mistake. At once he was upon the small group of soldiers, tearing them apart with Force imbued strength. A frightening scene. His shoulder hissed, sizzling from the blaster bolt one of them managed to get off before his demise. It looked down at them, pawns in a game that it itself was unaware of.
The Skrii-Ro'ik as a ship was designed to take a beating, it held not one but two hull skins of Yorik Coral, and its powerful much overstated Dovin Basals helped with shielding against the massively powerful rail weapons that the Republic Began to fire. The Vessel they targeted was the Yralf, one of the first ships of the line. Its huge Dovin Bassal joined with those of its sister ship pressed forward, slowing the speed of the Rail and Hypervelocity cannon shots.
The vessel shook and shuttered as weapons began to impact it, the second skin peeling from the vessel and several of its yaret-kor being stripped from its front.
“Ma'am, they've begun to fire.”
Boan smiled slightly, noting the repositioning.
When she had read the after-battle reports of Manaan she had noted a distinct lack of something. The Immortal had been incorrectly utilized, not all of its weapons being brought to correct function. Chief among them, its Proton Cannon.
The weapon was located beneath the vessel, mounted to effectively fire in a large arch in front of the vessel. Though the Immortals were slow and lumbering, its weapons array were still rather vast.
“Shift the fleet, turn to the enemy and prep Yaret-Kor's, Tell the Vong commanders to fire their weapons indiscriminately into the enemy fleet and tell them to ready their Dovin Basals. All of them. Have the Immortal turn its guns on the Republic Avenger class...and alert the Sith” That was a vessel they had seen before, and it was time to impose other countermeasures.
The slow lumbering vessel turned, of course at a snails pace, but they were stationary tracking targets and that made things a lot easier, given the physics of it all. As soon as the Immortal shifted enough, it began to unload with its long range guns, slowly at first, then getting faster and faster.
“Fire the proton Cannon.” A massive searing beam would shoot from the bottom of the Immortal, arching out towards the Righteous with searing destruction.
Summary: -Skrii'Ro'ik took damage -Fleet is tracking Republic fleet
-Immortal Began firing on The Righteous with half of its guns.
-Immortal Fired its Proton Cannon at The Righteous
-Izrit, Trynth, Yuuzran, Yralf fire indiscriminately into Republic Fleet with Yaret-Kor
-All Five Yuuzhan Vong Ships prep Dovin Basals
Golden-Yellow hues remained fixed upon the skies near the spaceport, watching the incoming Republic shuttles. She was amazed that such a force managed to get around the Sith Fleet in orbit, though these things could quickly fall to chaos, with gaps and holes opening across the board. She though had her own important mission, defending the spaceport and that was what she planned on doing. With a small wicked grin her fingers traced along the button once more. Closing her eyes before she nodded her head slightly, her hand pressing down, applying the needed pressure to the control. As her eyes shot open the control room of the spaceport that she stood within woke in a flurry of activity.
Lights flickered on, screens pulled up and revealed the flight paths of a myriad of objects in the sky. Taking it all in, the Baroness nodded once more. Her voice clear and crystal, without a bit of hesitation or stuttering as she remained with her eyes forward.
"Its time."
With a nod the Colonel pressed his hand against his ear, the command was given as soon those shiny new guns that she had brought to the One Sith were awakened. The coverings that they lay beneath were quickly shed, pulled away as the Fen'Harel Anti-Air Mobile Weapon Platforms were brought to bear. The vehicles were positioned in a ring around the spaceport to provide overlapping fields of fire. Their crews quickly pulling up targets as their two heavy anti-vehicle blaster cannons leveled to the sky.
The Baroness watched as the first flashes came from the barrels, then the noise. The nearly deafening discharge of the Blaster Cannons as the ground shook beneath her feet. The heavy cannons aiming towards the incoming republic shuttles and unleashing a barrage of hell upon them. Filling the sky with bursts from their blaster cannons as the Baroness watched on. Ever the one to learn, she held a datapad in her hand, noting her new vehicle's effectiveness. What kind of testing and proving would this be if the Baroness had no notes of their success or their failures to build upon.
Location: Prak City Objective: One Allies: Enemies:
Khallesh was beginning to wish she had stayed on the Koros-Strohna. The hard, metallic floor felt distinctly alien underfoot for a Yuuzhan Vong used to either the outside world or the interior of organic vessels. It made too much noise as she strode across it in her Skerr-Kyrric, leaving the soles of her feet chapped and sore. Still, she couldn’t complain. It could have been worse.
There was a groan above her, and without even looking she flicked up her wrist. Her arachnostaff uncoiled and clipped the shoulder of the perpetrator. Khallesh looked up at the collection of prisoners from Manaan, suspended from the ceiling and enwrapped in an Embrace of Pain. The human female turned away from the gaze, but Khallesh let out a feral hiss and bared her teeth anyway, her arm threatening another strike. The infidel looked fairly young in her estimation, not a child, but then she was hardly a good judge of human age.
Then the sirens began to wail.
The Yuuzhan-Vong Huntress bounded across the metallic floor without a moment’s pause, rushing down a corridor and bursting out into the night. Her sharp eyes turned back and forth, and then scanned the sky. Nothing. Several anti-air emplacements had started to fire. She took a moment to slow her breathing, having taken leave of her senses under battle for a moment. Of course it would be an early warning.
“Subcommander Khallesh Val, all my units assemble on my position,” she called into her villip, before switching to a command link. “Subcommander Khallesh Val reporting, my units will assemble shortly, where are we needed?”
Location: Space Port Objective: Objective 1 (Defense) Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Vrag"], [member="Trenchcoat Man"], [member="Darth Venefica"], [member="Darth Adekos"], [member="Warok the Defiler"] Enemies:[member="Sanya Val Lerium"], [member="Catherine Soja"], [member="Kian Karr"], [member="Gherron Vael"] Theme:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oj_JICtUe5w
A sith dagger slid from the lower back sheath as Gabriel listened to the stomps of angry Vong, their Warmaster standing at the mantle of leadership, upon the forefront of their heavy steps. He grasped the black handled item in right hand, as he picked pieces of dirt from the fingers of his left hand. His hooded gaze remained fixed on the luminescent blue PARTICLE shield that was surrounding the spaceport. The AA guns were firing in unison towards space, recoiling from their own force, and stressing the duracrete tripods to which they were mounted.
"What is your..." The Sith Lord cut the tizowyrm equipped Warmaster off with a lazy hand lifted upwards. An extended finger pointed towards the flashing screen as he turned towards the Vong, a large figure in black vonduun skerr kyrric, that seemed to emaciate as it was attached to the Vong body. "Open your eyes. We are soon to be under attack...I want 500 Vong stationed within the complex. Keep all the shields in the complex. Your fastest runners, the remaining 100, split up into teams of three and walk the inner shield boundary. You see anything, relay back to command and regroup. I wont have this place fall under discrete scrutiny..."
"Why does it matter?" The Vong spoke in thick Vong accent, making no attempt to usurp as Gabriel looked upward, scanning the numerous systems defense turrets mounted on the ceilings. For those who had gone through customs, it would be a simple task to bypass these defenses. Unfortunately for those who were descending upon the planet, customs systems are shut down int he case of an emergency. But back to the matter at hand, Gabriel couldn't help but smile as he turned from the Vong Warmaster and witnessed the rapid firing of the AA systems. "It doesn't really...but if you find something and regroup, you can kill it...or, you can try anyway."
The Sith Lord knew how to get at his command and there was no better way to motivate the Vong then with the promise of pain to come, veiled behind the challenge. With a smile, born upon the incomplete escalation rituals, the men went about their duties and dispersed. As for the systems within the facility, everything was top notch, as was expected on the One Sith fortress planet. Underground generators supplied shielding, far from the capacity for tampering, and maintenance routes laid blockaded by recently shut blast doors and shielding systems. Control rooms, the soft target of the facility, would receive constant monitoring and defense. It would be no small task to take the spaceport down. Gabriel was starting to wonder why their enemies would pick such a planet for their attacks. Wasn't there an easier world to conquer, one not so readily defended? He shrugged as he continued to pick at his finger nails, a watchful eye to the world outside and emergency systems, which were now linked to his visual communications readout upon wrist.
Objective 2 - Citadel Inquisitorius Location: Meeting new people Allies: [member="Darth Nephthys"], [member="Darth Carach"] (Making lousy first impressions) Enemies: Drop Pods!! Special Equipment: Warden Cloak (Green)
Sirens blaring and pods dropping. The situation suddenly got real. Pod for pod of soldiers plummeted for the ground and Sena’s first instinct was to slowly back away from where she had been standing. Her jaw dropped, not out of amazement but uncertainty. There were so many questions. What was she supposed to do? Who was attacking Prakith? Running away felt stupid, the planet was about to be engulfed in battle yet risking death felt stupider.
A stray heel nudged at the staircase in front of the entrance to the Citadel and she fell into a seated position as her eyes wandered to the sky. The sneaking suspicion that she was about to be forced into a fight grew larger for each passing moment. With a gentle push she got up from the staircase and entered the Citadel itself. Her head hunched down as she contemplated the options. The One Sith was the rightful rulers, yet there was no telling what would happen to Sena should the invaders actually win the day.
No, this was a fortress world. The Sith held a home court advantage and to think the others stood a chance was ridiculous. She gently shook it all off. The One Sith could count on Sena for this one. Not because she wanted to help them but because it was the smartest way to help herself. In the end all that was all that mattered. Well, that and that she could get off this rock in one piece when it was all over.
Room for room passed her by until finally she found someone. A man and a woman but something about them felt wrong, twisted. Words escaped her in that moment. There was something about them made her worry, made her feel like if there was something in the air that demanded Sena to fear yet respect them. Her eyes darted between the two sith lords as the young girl's jaw dropped, again.
"I'm-... Uhh-..." Out of her league? Sena's heart began beating. "I-... Should-..."
She never finished that. Her hand reached for the doorknob, just in case things got messy.
1 x MC180 Remembrance Class Battlecruiser – Destiny – 12 fighters, 12 interceptors (Flagship)
1 x Noblesse Class Destroyer – Oblige – 12 fighters, 24 interceptors, 12 bombers
1 x Avenger Class Destroyer – Righteous – 12 bombers
5 x Metellos Class Frigates – Swiftsure, Liberator, Radiant, Gallant, Valiant – 36 fighters, 12 interceptors, 12 bombers each (total 320)
2 x Azalus Class Frigates – Dart, Javelin – 0 attack craft
1 x Taboon Class Corvette – Torrent – 24 fighters
1 x Dorin Class Corvette – Legate – 0 attack craft
Total: 8010 metres, 428 attack craft
Fleet Orders
Destiny – Assault Command Ship 100/100100/100 Orders: Firing on Yralf Oblige – Balanced Destroyer 100/100100/100 Orders: Fires railgun at Yralf, then broadside. Righteous – Assault Destroyer 100/100100/100 Orders: Orders: Fires HVC at Yralf, then broadside. (Damage being resolved by Tålamod Shapochka) Swiftsure – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort, readying attack craft. Liberator – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort, readying attack craft. Radiant – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort, readying attack craft. Gallant – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort, readying attack craft. Valiant – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort, readying attack craft. Dart – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort position. Javelin – Support Frigate 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort position. Torrent – Support Corvette 100/100100/100 Orders: Forming into escort position. Legate – Assault Corvette 100/100100/100 Orders: Extended into front left. Dice Roll Log entries: N/A
The spitting arc of the Immortal’s proton cannon was something which one did not forget in a hurry. The Admiral did not see how bad the impact had been on the Righteous but he did wince slightly. That ship had once been his, and the thought of it getting even scratched was unpleasant to say the least! “Damage report from Commander Shapochka, please,” he ordered his comms officer.
It was time for action. The Immortal was a beast, but it was a beast which could be managed. It was time to break up the rest of the enemy fleet first. “Triplex manoeuvre, now,” he ordered.
The fleet moved from double column into a triangle formation. The Oblige formed the right, the Righteous the left, and the Destiny formed the centre, dipping down on the Y plane so it was below the other two. The Metellos frigates formed up behind and to the left, the Azalus on the flanks close to the destroyers.
In this formation they turned towards the Sith fleet so they could unleash the rail and HVC cannons the destroyers had at the damaged Yralf. They were now in ‘normal’ range, so the Destiny could add the weight of its massive batteries on this single ship too.
This delivered, the Republic ships turned 90 degrees to bring their broadsides to bear, moving parallel along the Sith front. Now the Righteous headed the column, the Destiny the centre and the Oblige the rear. As before, the escorts formed up to the left in the shadow of the capital ships.
The Legate was still out on the far left, watching for anything coming towards the open flank.
SUMMARY:
Damage to Righteous being handled by that writer.
Republic fleet turns towards Sith, unleashes frontal guns against the Yralf, then turns 90 degrees to give it a broadside.
As OS Yaret-Kor guns have a very short range (60km max), only Righteous is close enough to have been targeted.
Location: Enroute to the Spaceport Objective: Objective 1 - Prakith City Spaceport; Try not to die of fright Allies: [member="Kosuke Yamauchi"] | [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Sophia Walsh"] | [member="Sressechka"] | [member="Ella Nova"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Rael sul B'an"] | [member="Aqulia Audax"] | [member="Catherine Soja"] | [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Gherron Vael"] | [member="Sanya Val Lerium"] Enemies: [member="Ronan Dyre"] | [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Warok the Defiler"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Baroness Magrath"] | [member="Freanne"]
The Republic drop ship rocked vehemently against turbulence. The shuttle had just broken through the atmosphere of Prakith, the way the sun breaks through clouds. A light that fought valiantly against the darkness and Prakith was the epitome of darkness.
A young wanna-be hero named Ayden Quell sat in that Republic drop ship. If Prakith was the epitome of darkness, then that young Padawan was the epitome of the fear that the darkness could strike. With white knuckles wrapped around his seat, he gazed apprehensively around the shuttle until his blue-gray eyes fell on [member="Kian Karr"], his master.
It was apparent the Kel Dor was trying to communicate with his apprentice, though what he had said Ayden had no idea. He could barely understand why he was here. It was insanity -- the Republic launching a strike on Prakith and bringing along a tender footed dunce like him.
He diverted his gaze back to his trembling hands. Somehow a datapad had gotten into his clutches and he glared down at it. He wasn't sure what he was looking at, but it looked heavily fortified. A dry clump stuck in the back of his throat.
"Shuttle two has been destroyed!" cried the pilot. Ayden's eyes widened like a bantha caught in the headlights of an oncoming speeder bike. As if his fear and anxiety weren't palpable enough. With fear and trembling, he gazed at his master.
"Are you ready?" the words rang hollow in his ears.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
Feth, how does one get ready for this nightmare?
"No..." was all he could muster, and his face turned a deathly shade of pale white.
Location: Aboard the Destroyer Noblesse Oblige Objective: Defeat the Sith Fleet Allies: [member="Kayleigh Tyven"] [member="Friedrich Stahlmann"] [member="Sanya Val Lerium"] [member="Tålamod Shapochka"] [member="Jack Rand"] Enemies: [member="Darth Arcanix"] [member="Boan Rein"]
When the One Sith's Immortal began to enter its firing sequence for the Proton Beam Cannon, it wasn't clear at first who was the target of the behemoth's terrifying weapon. "Order all hands brace for impact!" It was still as of yet undetermined what a direct from that thing could do to a ship, but all the same the Rendili woman wasn't about to let her crew be taken by surprise by an attack that might rattle them a little. However, the attack never came, though whether Camellia believed this was fortunate or not was up to debate. While she was happy that her own ship wasn't damaged, especially considering how much work had went into the design and how it was only now making a debut appearance, she wasn't so keen on the Avenger taking damage considering how the Noblesse Oblige had a better shield system.
Nonetheless, what happened was what happened there was no changing that. What was able to be done was to continue to pursue the enemy with everything they had! As the Admiral's orders came through for a new maneuver and another change in formation the bridge of the Noblesse was a flurry of activity as the helm brought the ship around back to the right of its fellow capital ships and the weapons officer once more plotted trajectories and gave firing solutions for the gunners of the Skrii Ro'ik which was still their primary target. The main cannon had already been prepped since the last round was fired and once more the brilliant flash of the railgun round being launched, along with salvos from all weapons now creating a cornucopia of colors against the darkness of space, was a dazzling display as the Republic launched a more fearsome attack than before.
For now even the Remembrance MC-180 class, Destiny, was bringing the weight of its guns to bear on the target, along with the rest of the Republic fleet. And after the forward barrage ended the fleet continued its assault while taking a path to carry themselves around the enemy, all while hitting them with a broadside with whatever guns could still track them. For the moment it meant the Railgun could not be brought to hammer its might against the Sith, but then if they turned as they were then the Sith's Proton Beam Cannon couldn't track them either, not for another direct hit at least. And until such time as another opportunity like that presented itself, it seemed to Camellia as if the Admiral intended to leave the Immortal without any support from its fellows who would be laid to waste by then.
"The eyesore is still there, grind it out men!"
Summary
Moved into new formation
Fired another Railgun Round
Fired with all weaponry at the Yralf
Continued firing as it turned with a broadside pattern
Railgun unable to fire again until once more turned at the Sith
Fate comes knockin', doors start lockin'
Your old time connection, change your direction
Ain't gonna change it, can't rearrange it
Can't stand the pain when it's all the same to you, my friend
Standby, Pod is entering planetary atmosphere. Breach in 3....2....1...Reverse thrusters activated...Landing gear engaged.
The Jedi sat, secured in the drop pod, awaiting the landing that would surely be anything but pleasant. She hated drop pods more than anything. Hundreds of thousands meters of free-fall, followed by abruptly stalling and then slapping on to the ground below like a leap from a swimming pool ladder into a glorious belly-flop. No, she wasn't enthused about the coming moments, but alas, there was little other alternative, given that the Sith weren't opening their starports to the Jedi today. And so she waited, minutes passed by in the confines of this blasted metallic egg. Impatience was growing when she finally felt the touchdown of the surface on Prakith.
As quickly as possible, she kicked open the entryway hatch and exited. The outskirts of the target was her landing site. The monstrous citadel looming overhead as she gazed at her surroundings. Without any allies in sight, she proceeded towards her mark. She took note of a few empty pods, meaning that others had already arrived and she was seemingly late to the show. Nothing to worry about, surely there will still be some Sith left to greet the late comers, yes? She shrugged, increasing her pace as she advanced towards the Citadel. She would make it to the maw of the stronghold before long, what awaited? Likely something horrible and ravenous, knowing the demented Sith and their little experiments they oh so enjoyed.
Let's get this over with. Pausing for only a moment, she closed her eyes, focusing solely on those she knew were headed to the Citadel with her, she made an attempt to mentally contact Jedi Master [member="Corvus Raaf"] for bearings and instruction. "Master Raaf. I've landed via drop-pod on Prakith. Where are our forces, more specifically, where are you?" The Padawan continued on her journey as she awaited a response.
Location: Enroute to Sith capital
Objective: Secure / Destroy the Citadel
Allies: Eventually: [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"], [member="Corvus Raaf"], [member="Jannik Morlandt"], [member="Lan Graendal"], [member="Book"], [member="Ryan Korr"], [member="Quinn Vos"].
Enemies: The One Sith / Whoever else
The J-1 Interceptor broke through the upper atmosphere and soared down to the planet below. Haytham had been correcti n thinking that there was going to be heavy combat upon the ground below. With a quick glance to the scanners, it told him that he was descending quite quickly to the Citadel. Flicking over the missile trigger, his thumb hovered over the button, but then soon descended to the side of the trigger and rested there.
In a few minutes, he'd be in range, and he'd fire the missiles into the Citadel, and enter from there. Mostly because Haytham didn't care about who he was angering, and since it was the Sith, the Sith who took his Master from him, he didn't care. All he needed to care about was who took [member="Kiskla Grayson"], and where she'd be found.
Of course, there was already the coldness of the dark side seeping into his flesh and felt as if it were seizing his heart. His chest tightened, and he knew he'd be there soon.
Location: Enroute to Sith Citadel Objective: Objective 2 - betray Ryan Korr and turn him into Darth Isolda Allies: @Ryan Korr @Darth Isolda [member="Randial"] Enemies: @Darth Isolda @Ryan Korr [member="Randial"]
A long way off, she felt the brush of a second presence, a dark one belonging to someone she met on Erida. The familiar brush didn't last long: a flicker in the span of a second. Jaw set as their objective came into view, the steady heart beat of Ryan thrumming against her back.
Where she had failed [member="Darth Odium"], she would not fail another.
"There," she pointed to their destination, and not at the citadel that loomed plainly into view.
Korr frowned, staring through the canopy in the direction Quinn had indicated. His eyes alighted upon... nothing. He swung his head in the opposite direction and stared at the looming citadel.
"What?" He muttered, "Unless..."
Firm lips compressed into a thin line.
The young Jedi Knight closed gray eyes and let the river of the Force flow over him. The wash of light carried him along, bobbing on the surface of serenity. The currents tugged at him and he listened to those currents, until he found one all of white. He stretched out, trying to touch the argent ripple, but it fled before forceful, calloused hands. Quieting the inner storm, Korr reached out again, rough hands gentle, like a goldsmith.
The mundane gave way to a flood of purest white that painted the world in a different hue. Korr looked anon with an altered gaze. In this realm he held but little skill, enough to leave words on walls for others to see. Illusions fled like morning fog beneath the sun's noon rays. The walls of the citadel evaporated. Ryan turned back toward the area Quinn had indicated. There it stood, menacing and true.
"Clever, yet I thought that a power of Light's domain."
If the Sith wielded, atop Vong forming, sorcery and all manner of alchemical terrors, the power of the Fallanassi, Ryan wondered what was left solely unto the realm of the Light. Little, it seemed. Scant little.
The matte-black X-wing swung toward a place no ally could yet see and began a steady descent.
