The Sound Of Iron Shot [Rebels and allies vs Primeval and allies]

[Evan Kenner]

Location: Near the center of the Rift
Objective: Kark orders, kill pirates
Allies: Primeval and company
Enemies: Rebel Alliance, [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="stardust"]

Evan reacted quickly upon hearing the ship's AI announce that a missile was inbound. He hit the thrusters hard, moving quickly around an asteroid and hitting the cloaking switch. Once his starship dissapeared behind the asteroid, the homing missile lost it's target and hit the nearest asteroid.

The three squadrons of Primevak fighter began to close in on Drexel and Stardust. Perhaps they were nothing special, but their sheer number was enough to intimidate.

Evan circled the asteroid and waited for a chance to hop out of cloaking and strike with the element of surprise. With his fighter dissapearing from the scanners, Drexel might think his missile did him in.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

She looked at her scanners and popped her neck with a grin"only three squadrons? Hehe should've sent five to do the job"age watched [member="Thane Drexel"] fire upon [member="Evan Kenner"] only to see he disappeared "hmmm interesting

She locked onto three fighter and fired three proton torpedoes at them before breaking off, her ship had so.e trouble with movement and could be overwhelmed if the enemy could see such weakness

 

[Sage Bane]

Location: Military outpost
Objective: Dance
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Gear:

Spoiler

Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, no helm or gloves
Sessile Triostaff
Chitin Carbine
Lightsaber
2 Pouches of Blorash Jelly
2 Plasma Eels
The Blade of the Satvas
Rebreather

An animal snarl escaped Sage's lips as the Mandalorian vaulted over his attacks. He heard a click, then a whoosh as his enemy lifted his wrist. Flinging his Chitin Carbine outwards, Sage lifted both of his hands and threw up a hasty Force barrier. His aegis of dark energy wasn't fast enough to entirely shield him from the attack, but the barrier took the brunt of the attack. When the flames cleared, he was left with burned flesh and patches of scalp where his hair should have been. His Voduun crab armor screeched in pain, its legs flailing in agony. The living armor writhed uncomfortably on Sage's body, further inflaming his burns. The left arm plates crawled aside to reveal Sage's Sessile Triostaff, three black leathery amphistaves grafted to his shoulder. Three hisses came in unison. Cracking out like whips, the trio of fanged mouths spat thick gobs of acidic poison in the direction of their master's foe.

Enraged and in pain, Sage gathered up ferocious swells of the Dark Side and let the energy burst from his outstretched hands. He aimed a powerful Force repulse at the Mandalorian, an explosive attack, designed to send his opponent flying backwards with the Force of a hurricane. He managed to spit out a few words between gritted teeth.

"You killed Dredge, eh?" the Sith Lord asked, his voice muffled from the rebreather. "I don't know whether to kill you or thank you."

 

[Ughad]

Location: Aboard the Order's End
Objective: Defeat Rebel Scum
Allies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] | [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies: [member="Krasnaya Xue"] | [member="stardust"]


The small deployment of the Vanguard fleet had finally dropped out of hyperspace. Kadri, of course, was told to come immediately, for the mine was udner attack. There was no time for proper preparations, but Kadri had a plan. He always had a plan. Their profile was small, old, but never obsolete. The large corvettes tugged along around their master and her consorts. The carrier followed in the back and the other two Deliverance-class cruisers stayed to the side of their adapted sister's side like bodyguards. The Order's End and the fleet drifted through the black of space.

"Communications with the enemy fleet open at your command, sir!"

That communications officer in particular had been with Kadri since the beginning. Sephi female. She was the only one Kadri trusted with handling his communications anymore.

"Not yet, Officer Balta. I want all long-range weapons charging until we enter range. Send the order to carrier Warlogh to launch three squadrons of GU-10 Interceptors on an intercept course into the fray!"

Spoiler: Fleet/Fleet Actions

[topic='63823']Order's End [/topic]x1- Charging HELIX warheads and ion cannons
Unnamed [topic='46046']Deliverance class Cruisers[/topic] (henceforth D1 and D2) x2- charging ion cannons
Unnamed[topic='43946'] Mendacity-class corvettes[/topic] (M1, M2, M3, and M4 until further notice) x4- Charging Heavy Long-range ion cannons
[topic='47008']Prim'Ra Carrier[/topic] (Warlogh x1- Warlogh deploying 3 squadrons of GU-10 Interceptors

EDIT: finished.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Location: Base, fighting [member="Sage Bane"].
Allies: None.
Objective: Fight.
Gear:
Preliat's Armor, Beskar Tomahawk and Beskad, Two Westar-34s, Jetpack, Flamethrower (70%), Crushgaunts.


He saw the arm, warping and contorting. His first instinct was to get low and move, and he was correct- acid spit out of the arm produced by the Sith. The Sith were twisted, but he had never known them to distort their body in such a way. It was unnverving to say the least. He felt the impact and the splash of the acid as it hit his helmet, and began to burn away. He was about to deal with it, but then, the room shifted. The energy of the room shifted to a darker tone. Everything felt...wrong. Preliat then felt his feet go off the ground. It happened as if it was shot with a high-speed camera, but it was moving in real-time. He blinked. He just- blinked. He was thrown violently backwards, more so than before. The chitin rounds had nothing on the impact. He felt the wave of pain, the bruising he already knew would be there. He breathed deeply after he was thrown against the wall. A stabbing pain. Cracked ribs, maybe more. But he wasn't going to yield to an injury that took out cheerleaders and bad Null-Hockey players. No, he had to keep going. He had to keep fighting.

His rifle was thrown somewhere else in the room, but as far as he was concerned- it was six million miles away. A tool, gone. Hurting to breathe, Preliat stood, and reached up to his helmet, wiping the diluted acid off of it. He cracked his knuckles beneath his crushgaunts, and held his hands out by his hips. The two Westar-34s. Powerful weapons. Strong enough to take down most beasts in a single blast. And he had two of them. His hands moved like lightning. Age hadn't slowed him down. He strafed left, to the other side of the room, firing both blasters at the Sith. It was too small of an area to use his jetpack, at least, wisely. He struggled to breathe, but the Sith wouldn't know it. He wondered what else the Sith had up his sleeve. If he did, Preliat had a tomahawk and a shortsword with his name on it. But what was lacking on both, was his blood.


"I will send you to perdition, Sith."

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: Aboard The Thorn.
Objective: Show them the Warlord (And not be overwhelmed by the speed of everything!)
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: Rebels, [member="Krasnaya Xue"], [member="Oddball"], @other fleeters?

Weapon salvo after weapon salvo exploded from the weapon cartridges of all the ships within the Directories Vanguard fleet, protected from debris by the organically generated Dovin Basal field. Not return fire seemed to indicate that the rebels knew of their presence just yet, but with the weapons discharge they would soon know for sure, that the Warlord had arrived.... and with more company than a simple convoy of small warships. No, the growing fleet of ships was slowly growing into the Primeval Armada. Only the Vanguard was engaging of course, but should any ships fall, that had a numerical advantage to replace their losses... and not only that, since the working operation of the Time Forge, a new vessel had been developed.

It was a droid vessel, a Star Destroyer focused not on superior armament (though it had a special compliment of missiles, proton torpedos, and warheads to make up for this), but on electronic warfare. After all, how was a droid fleet supposed to protect itself from hacking? And indeed, how was it going to protect its droid starfighters from being hacked or bugged and inserted with a virus? It just so happened, that is exactly the sort of thing the rebels were attempting to do with this apparently central communications tower. Immediately as the message went out, a convoy of these droid vessels, not the unclaimed one farther out into the nebula, but the one in the small Armada surrounding the location given the high level of disturbances in this area.

Besides, how much damage did they think they could accomplish with ONE communications tower in a nebula that historically disrupted sensors and other telecommunication devices? The damage they might have wreaked by this operation was then localized to the present ships engaging them... and those were for the most part protected by the networked firewall that the droid vessels produced, on top of the fact most ships that the Warlord had were forward mounted... at the rebels, or anti-starfighter, which there weren't any, and additionally the virus could not take control of the entire ship which wasn't automated. With all these factors considered, the Primeval exhibited little effect from the virus received.

"Haha, they think the game has been set matched, when in fact there is still far more to do!" Giddily, the Hutt continued to pilot his organic ship with extreme glee.

Spoiler

Virus nullified by developing droid ship convoy within the miscellaneous cloud of star ships surrounding the location and other extenuating circumstances

 

[Sage Bane]

Location: Military outpost
Objective: Dance
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Gear:

Spoiler

Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, no helm or gloves
Sessile Triostaff
Chitin Carbine
Lightsaber
2 Pouches of Blorash Jelly
2 Plasma Eels
The Blade of the Satvas
Rebreather

The man was like a force of nature as he rose up again and advanced on Sage. Despite being thrown several meters down the hallway, the warrior pressed on, drawing two blaster pistols and punishing Sage with a barrage of bolts. His tenacity was admirable indeed. The Sith had fought Acklays with less resolve than this man. The room filled with the sound of blaster fire, bolts of energy crisscrossing towards the Sith Lord. Sage's black, leathery amphistaffs whipped out to parry some of the bolts, much like a lightsaber would, but they were not able to thwart every shot. Sage's wounded crab armor held up under the blasts, but several blows later, his armor was beginning to weaken and crack. Every hit stung the already burned Sith Lord's tender flesh. He roared like an animal in pain.

"I'm already there!"

In the midst of the barrage, Sage's human hand moved to his hip to grab one of the Plasma Eels that was still coiled around his waist. Its brother had not survived the flame thrower attack and hung limply off of the Sith Lord's gear belt. The eel straightened its body like a spear and was flung straight at the Mandalorian as he strafed. The living Yuuzhan Vong weapon was essentially a thermal detonator, built to explode on impact. Perhaps the Mando's beskar armor could vent enough to heat from the blast to allow the man to live through the blast, but it would be hard for even a Hutt to rise from the impact of an atomizing explosion of a Plasma Eel.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Location: Outpost
Enemies: [member="Sage Bane"]
Allies: None
Gear:
Two Westar-34s. Jetpack. Flamethrower (60%). Beskar Tomahawk. Beskad. Crushgaunts. Preliat's Armor, Ori'ramikad Knife.



He saw it. He hadn't seen it used much, especially at this close of a range. He oft wondered how they found these creatures- or how these creatures even survived out in the wild. But that was neither here nor there at the moment. He had a eel, with the force of a thermal detonator coming at him. His HUD lit up with a plethora of warnings and incoming threat messages. He only had one real option- to get away from it. Preliat had an idea, a risky, awful idea. But it was better than being blown up. He dropped to the floor, and activated his jetpack. The jetpack shot him across the room and into the adjacent hallway, sparks shooting from his armor. The Beskar'kandar wouldn't break or even falter, but the resulting rash on it would be an interesting story. His HUD told him of the incoming impact. He began to roll, and felt his jetpack crumble. It wasn't as durable as his armor or him, and he broke apart, shattering along the ground. The fuel tank rolled away, far across the room. He stood up, looking down the hallway that now separated him and the Sith.


He held the blasters at his side, and then holstered them. He narrowed his eyes behind his helmet, and reached down to the small of his back, removing the Beskad. He reached up to his left tricep, removing the Beskar Tomahawk. He balanced the two in either hands, and then marched forward into the hallway. His people considered melee combat the most honorable- and for good reason. He was dizzy, and felt nauseous. But he wasn't going to let the Sith know, or see that. The journey to the other room via his jetpack was a bumpy, confusing one- but as the eel exploded, he was thankful that he did it.

"No more tricks...and no more games. Fight me and prove your worth, Sith."

 

[Sage Bane]

Location: Military outpost
Objective: Dance
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Gear:

Spoiler

Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, no helm or gloves
Sessile Triostaff
Chitin Carbine
Lightsaber
2 Pouches of Blorash Jelly
2 Plasma Eels
The Blade of the Satvas
Rebreather

Sage had fought against Mandalorians when the Sith touched down on Mandalore a few months back, but never one as tenacious as this one. It felt a bit like banging one's head against a durasteel wall over and over again. The man just would not stay down. Flying away from Sage's plasma eel, which left a hole in the terminal, his opponent careened around on his jetpack until it broke. The man unsheathed a tomahawk and charged towards him like a bull rancor. Sage spat out his words through the rebreather, along with a spray of blood from a violent coughing fit.

"Ah, but war is a game, is it not?"

A raspy wheeze emanated deep from inside of his chest, as Sage called the Force into his body again. The Sith Lord's burns were on fire, and his lungs had suffered deblitating smoke damage. Bane wasn't long for the fight, so it was time to end it, for one of them anyway. With his last vestige of concentration, Sage branched out with the Dark Side of the Force, unfurling it from the finger tips of his human hand. The dark, malicious energy shot forward, its tendrils aiming right for the warrior's chest. If the man did not have a defense against it, the invisible tentacle would slither inside of his armor, inching right past his possibly broken ribs, and like a vice, clamp down on the man's beating heart. If left to its own devices, the phantom hand would would squeeze inexorably on the blood-pumping organ.

The Force Wound power was Sage's last gasp at incapacitating his foe, before he himself became too fatigued to stand. At best, the power would muscle the Mandalorian into unconsciousness. At worst, it would stop his fragile heart from beating and kill him outright.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat howled in pain as [member="Sage Bane"] sent forth the phantom hand to his chest. He remembered the sensation of losing his leg, and the pain like this was worse. He held up his hands, squeezing his mighty hands, howling in pain. The scream was not something born from the galaxy- something Sage was never going to hear again. From behind the helmet, there came a scream from a demon- something born from the depths of hell. The dark side flowed around him, feeding off the negativity of the beast that Sage was attacking. Everything in his body screamed. Every fiber of muscle in his body- screamed. Every muscle was on fire. His skin crawled and shifted in pain. His hair on his body went stiff and rigid, and goosebumps flared up.


He fell to his knees, looking up at [member="Sage Bane"]. He was being attacked from within- he needed to stop the Sith. Everything screamed for him to stop. Everything screamed for him to quit and succumb to the encroaching blackness. He was in tunnel vision, looking downward at the Sith. He blinked, and fell to his knees. He continued to scream, that same horrible, awful scream. It wasn't a wolf crying out in pain- it was a demon being born. And that demon, like all things that were born- began to crawl. He crawled forward several feet, feeling the pain around his heart increase, and reached for his boot, seething and howling in pain. And the demon turned it's head back to Sage. And behind the visor, it grew quiet. The Ori'ramikad knife was slid out of it's sheath.

The knife itself was nothing special- a simple beskar blade with a few engravings. For Preliat, it was contrition and penance. It was sorrow incarnate. It reeked of death and of destruction. It was a reaper, scythe in hand. The knife was alive, it had grown thirsty for blood. And it would have it. Preliat's grip tightened, but not around the grip. He gripped the tip of the blade, holding it between his thumb and index. He launched his arm behind his head, and angled it towards Sage's arm- the one contorted by the dark side. He knew where to aim- the groundmouth. The groundmouth was a weakpoint on many things that the vong used, and Preliat, who had become an expert on fighting them- knew where to aim. The knife was not large enough, heavy enough, or sharp enough to remove the arm- but the damage or the threat alone was enough to end the pain in his chest.


The wolf became silent, and let the blade fly, falling back to his knees. If the blade missed, he would surely be done for. But Preliat's aim was rarely off- after all, he had been one of the fiercest warriors that the Mandalorians let loose upon the galaxy for nearly ten years. He did not attain his rank or his status, nor his nom de guerre by being subtle.

 

[Sage Bane]

Location: Military outpost
Objective: Dance
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Gear:

Spoiler

Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, no helm or gloves
Sessile Triostaff
Chitin Carbine
Lightsaber
2 Pouches of Blorash Jelly
2 Plasma Eels
The Blade of the Satvas
Rebreather

The inhuman howl that came from the Mandalorian assaulted Sage's senses, but his unyielding grip on the man's spasming heart remained steady. As a Dark-Sided being, Sage drank in the pain and suffering, thriving on it like sustenance. He continued his relentless squeezing to the music of the other man's bellowing, a perfect accompaniment. Out of his periphery, Sage noticed his foe going for the knife, but did not cease his assault. With metallic shink, the knife came unsheathed. Suddenly, his opponent's arm arced backwards.

Thunk!

An intense, searing pain hit Sage right below the shoulder blade, where his amphistaves mingled with his flesh, at the groundmouth. The three sentient creatures burned with agony, along with Sage himself who was mind-linked with his arm. The Sith Lord let loose a powerful Force scream, an unholy sound that shook the walls of the station like an earthquake. Sage's scream echoed throughout the outpost and vestiges of it could be heard even as far away as the next adjacent asteroid. Blood dribbled down either side of his face, his own ears bleeding from the sound. However much he yearned to reach over with his human hand and yank the knife from its burial in his groundmouth, Sage kept his focus on the tether that bound his power to the heart of his foe. Like the threads of a spider, the man's heart was bound. The squeezing would continue in earnest, with a death mantra repeated over and over in his head.

Sage had not survived the slave pits of Nal Hutta and the disgraces of Zambrano the Hutt to be killed on an asteroid in the Chiloon Rift. However worthy an opponent this man was, he would know this bane on the galaxy, the relentless pestilence that was the Lord of Thorns. Sage would leave this fight badly injured, but he would not fall. Not today.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat's eyes fluttered. Blood was failing to get to his body. He was sleepy. He was weary. But he was not an ordinary man. He was a beast. He was an animal. He was a demon. He was a monster. He had left behind what made him a person long ago. That is why he survived. That is how he survived. Preliat couldn't take aim with his flamethrower, but he could, however- take aim. He had done it since he was 20 years old. He reached for his thigh, falling to his stomach. He couldn't muster the strength to remain on his knees. His heart felt tight- it was a rather unpleasant feeling. [member="Sage Bane"] was in his sights. He withdrew his sidearm, and fell forward. He propped up one elbow, blinking rapidly, fighting the growing heaviness of his eyes.


And he fired. Right under the left arm. Preliat knew where to fire. If anything, it would hit him and nearly tear his arm off. At best, it would make Sage break his concentration, and then Preliat could resume his assault. The Sith was talented in many things, but Preliat was much more of a physical combatant than he was. And he was a honorless (in Preliat's eyes) man, and deserved no mercy. [member="Sage Bane"] may have faced many horrors- but Preliat was a horror in of himself.

"You shall not walk away unscathed, Sith. You will rue this day."

OOC:

Sorry about the wait- had a life changing moment.