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Having reported in their status, Kathryn observed the Golden Lance as it closed in, all while keeping an eye on the sensor readings and keeping up with the radio transmissions. To simultaneously handle your every sense and several tasks at a time were crucial in a pilots training. She were not a braggart by any means, but she were very proud of the men and women she were surrounded by in the squadron and liked to think that they were among the top sentient squadrons in the Confederacy. However not being a braggart, it was always fun competing against other squadrons as well as pilots between in different drills.
Thanks to the Sapphiric Scorn, who had taken the majority of the blast wave thanks to her massive size, Horizon Squadron were still operational although slightly shaken both physically and mentally of their comrades ultimate sacrifice. The CIS fleet soon resumed their firing sequences upon the Golden Lance. A battlecruiser that very much resembled a pirate vessel, but judging from its bold move to oppose this big of a fleet... Its captain were either a fool or something else than a pirate.
Suddenly, the sensors of the Starbird alerted her of what looked like disabled starfighters nearby (Bella
). It made a mark about the size of a starfighter and it did not identify as a friendly, at least.
''Horizon Leader to Fleet Command, my sensors are picking up what most probably would be disabled enemy starfighters in close proximity. Capturing them would give us good means to negotiate. Transfering data your way now. Requesting permission to intercept and apprehend, over?'' she radioed over to the Sapphiric Scorn as well as it could be heard by the E'care Shukur. With the pushes of some buttons, her own sensor data were shared through the Tyr Tactical Command Network with the two command ships.
A jet-black and sleek cut suit jacket, made from shell spider silk with a glistaweb lining, worn conspicuously open atop a crisp white shirt, ruffled cuffs peeking out from the sleeves. Matched black pant enveloping her long legs and hugging her curves, the cuffs of which pile gently onto vine snakeskin boots accented with silver tips. A belt, rested comfortably across her hips. Her blond hair was worn in a tussled up-do, fastened in place with hairpins.
Visanj shifted in her chair. Politics, she thought, the gentle art of accomplishing very little by speaking very much. She had not spoken since surrendering her lightsaber to the Viceroy. An act of good faith. Her ensuing silence was an act of respect, not merely for her host but for all those gathered in these negotiations. But having heard Dib’s statements, she found herself moved to speak.
“M’Lord Viceroy, if I may?” Visanj asked, bowing her head before rising from the chair.
“Many here do not know me. Few know me, and fewer still know me well. I am Visanj Ochara Selene Mazah-T’shkali, Baroness of Dagata, leader of the Dagatan Free State. The Dagatan Free State is an independent nation, and as such, it is a friend of the Confederacy, not a member-state. I have, of my own volition, become a Confederate citizen as well. For almost nine centuries, my people have remained apart. We have stayed in our corner of space, resigned to our independence with the same fierce commitment as any of us have to our next breath. To be fair, there have been those who wished to see our independence denied. They are….unable to comment further. Nor will any they once called kinfolk. Such is our resilience.”
Visanj paused to let the gravity of her words sink in before continuing once more.
“If you wish independence, then I will say to you that I understand that wish. If you wish solitude, to be left alone to your own affairs and to make for yourself your home and way of life unfettered and unabridged, I understand that as well. But I offer something you have not had until now. I offer you a voice from your future, for I and mine are where you and yours might one day be. Independence is the natural state of all beings. It is freedom which above all else must be sought after, fought for, and cherished beyond anything else. I applaud you doing it now and beg you to never cease.”
Vis stepped to face the man directly.
“But do you know the cost? Alone in the darkness, without comrade or counsel, without connection, it is easy to go adrift. To wake one morning and see that you have floated to the edge of obscurity. The Confederacy is not perfect. It has never been, and it may never be. But it is better than being lost. To leave here as friends, I can give you my word that you will have. But I beg you to consider delaying your secession. What is not being offered within the Confederacy that you seek apart from it? Trade? Mutual Defense? From what I have seen, you have not been denied these things. Is it a reasonable government, willing to speak, wishing to know what your people’s needs and desires are? You can see that is offered here and now. We refused the galaxy when the leaders of the New Republic betrayed our dead even as their bodies were still warm on Jakku. Our choice was made in anger and haste. Right or wrong, we have lived with it for centuries. I came to the Confederacy because it was time for us to rejoin the galaxy. There were many factions with whom I met. Many with whom I spent time. Some still used slaves…” Her eyes shot to the Agents of Chaos, casting indictment in her gaze, “Some sought war and conquest only, intending to resurrect the cursed Empire of Sheev Palpatine. Some had no purpose, and did even less. But the Confederacy of Independent Systems alone promised to respect the cultures and traditions of its worlds, to allow representation and conduct themselves with respect and dignity for their members, to oppose slavery and needless war, to refuse chaos and deny the doctrine of might making right. Is it perfect? No. Can it be? Perhaps, if brave men like you stand up and demand it to be so. But you cannot leave and accomplish this. If you stay, I will if I must, drag Metus himself to speak with you, and I will stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you as you and I together work to see that your people’s voices are heard, their issues acknowledged. I am not asking that you abandon your intention, only to slow its momentum, to allow the Confederacy to live up to its ideals and show you that staying is in everyone’s interest, or else, to fail and let you leave, as a friend, knowing you truly did all you could. When you asked for me to trust you, to place in your hands my own independence, I did, because I came here as your friend. Will you now place your trust in me, as mine?”
LOCATION: Outside Dome City OBJECTIVE:Engage CIS Droid force, retreat to safety UNIT: Winged Hussars (6000) WEARING: Beskar'gam | Jetpack WIELDING: Power Lance | RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol | EE-3 Carbine Rifle | Crushgaunts | Mandalorian Vambraces | Hussar Saber (Beskar) ALLIES: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters ENEMIES: The Confederacy of Independent Systems TAGS: Allya Vi'DreyaShuklaar Kyrdol
A warning blipped up on Strider's HUD indicated increase in temperature. "Friek!" The old man cursed under his breath then looking off into the horizon beyond the direction of the Dome City. A Firestorm was brewing and moving in, though it would take time to reach their current location it did not mean The Hussars were out of danger. One of the cons of having living creatures as your main mounts is that you had to be adherent to their needs and well being. You also had to be very well aware of critical conditions, like heatstroke, can cause said mount. A horse's danger zone is 41 degrees and up with being at 42.2 any longer that 15 minutes would be dangerous.
The brightlands of Ryloth were already a hot location to be and Strider knew the risk when landing here to engage the CIS's droid army. The risks were acceptable at the time but with the heatstorm increasing their current locations temperature, his horses were not going to survive the charge. And he wasn't leading a suicide mission, not today. The mandalorians were already on the extinction list and he did not want to be responsible for further large dips in the population because his pride. Strider was far to old to suffer pride, age brought many indignities so calling this tactical retreat was not hurting him a bit.
"RETREAT, BACK TO THE SHIP!" He commanded, just the moment he saw an object coming into view at extreme speeds. Even though his horse was in the process of slowing down to turn back, it wasn't enough time to lessen the impact of a repulsor burst wave. It was like being hit with an invisible hammer that violently dismounted him off the back of his horse. His body crashed into the hard ground below with a loud thump and clang of armor, his head smashing backwards making the old man's vision go dark and on the border of consciousness. He could hear rapid fire off in the distance and explosions close by. The worst was hearing the horses scream in pain as the CIS had focused fire on the mounts themselves. The beasts that survived laid injured letting off the most terrible wail of pain.
Strider's vision was coming back, his breath was hard as he gasped for air stumbling to his feet. With blurred vision he could see multiple dead hussars and mounts scattered about while the rest had turned and were retreating back to the sphere they had just debarked from. "Stri'buir!" He heard over his comms from one of his younger warriors.
"KEEP GOING!" Even though his voice was labored, it was still commanding and sharp that demanded obedience. There was no way he was going to have a vod sacrifice themself to try and rescue his old sheb. The trade off was not practical. Strider was well aware of his own situation, he was being left behind but his men will survive another day. So instead, he turned to his horse that was screaming in pain and with out hesitation ended its misery with a double tap from his now drawn heavy blaster pistol. He looked to the skies, seeing the figure that had rocked him off the horse he had just killed. He didn't have to zoom in with his HUD's optics, he knew that was a Mandalorian that had just tried to kill him. Not many missile like humanoids wore T Visor helmets.
Strider detached his own Jetpack off and dropping it to the ground and letting his yellow cape unfurl properly in the wind. The pack was damaged, he knew that the moment his back crashed into the ground. It was just dead weight now, serving no purpose. Now he was truly stuck and waited to see what this flying mandalorian had in store for him next, since he was the main target after-all. Was he to be obliterated by the CIS forces off in the distance. Was an awful feeling knowing there was marksmen with cross-hairs on him or mixed arty batteries that had this location zeroed in. Strider painfully smiled under his helmet at the thought of cheating old age of its cruel grasp on him. There was always that positive side.
SUMMARY:
Strider calls retreat due to Heatstorm and the danger of heatstroke for the horses
Strider is knocked off his horse by Allya
Shakuur's NPCs and himself were accurate in their ranged attack upon hussars inflicting many casualties.
Ending with Strider being left behind and grounded.
Location: Ryloth | Enroute to the Vureshakkairn Castle Objective: Spoils of War Allies:AoC Enemies:CIS + Anyone in her way Tags:Scherezade deWinter
+ Vytal Noctura
+ Anyone wanting to join Post: 3
"Driiink?! Waal aye suppose'ahh yah," fingerless gloved hands patted the Queen's armored neck and the corsair smirked, "Thay outta bathe..." Luna breathed, nose crinkling. "Wee outta bathe." The smell reminded her, tugged at memories she'd of rather left behind. The smell of grease, piss, liquor, and that of the scents only perfumed in love shacks. Now, she was being smothered with it all. Force be damned. Couldn't she just be normal?
Rhoujen would have laughed, loud and long at that.
She winced, knowing she would never hear that sound again. At least not, truly.
With that, Vega procured the flask of whiskey from within the confines of her attire, stealing a taste. It burned a line down her throat and splashed in her stomach that fetched a small noise from within. Her head shook, lips smacking and she stretched her arm to offer it the other lass. "...'ere, itall tay'k teh adge ooff." And it would, if only for a short space of time.
Wha'er ye dooin'....
Gods...no.
Luna Vega's skin crawled as Scherezade spoke, her words laced in power. Everything in her, urged her to flee. However, she froze atop Saava. "Speeear'ets... bloody hell...Maandruugoorah...." as if The Force wasn't enough. The pirate's face paled and her tongue suddenly heavy and dry. "Buh...speeear'ets rally? Feck, Scher....weeeches...." Try as she may, licking her lips did nothing. It felt like gravel, like sand.
Fear caused her gray eyes to widen as much as they could, so much that her pupils were nearly the only thing seen. Her ears rang softly and her throat trapped a scream. Luna appeared a statue, her person barely moving while they ventured nearer to the Vureshakkairn Castle. She was eerily quiet the rest of the way.
Slow your thunder-heart, child, the Queen of Churi bade to the rider's mind.
Confederate Battle Armor (Overlay/Underlay), M-47C, 600 AP and AS rounds, 3 frag grenades, 3 Ion grenades, 3 Concussion grenades, 3 Flashbangs, L-7 service pistol, 60 rounds for L-7, and 3 breaching charges
Draconis was running through the streets as he struggled to get comms with his units, the Surric Local Defense Forces had no more time to try and get their gear. The new fissure in the walls of the bio dome had seen to that. He was about to start demanding that anyone with comms to the battalions outside of the dome get them to respond when he heard a call over SLDF net.
"Ghost Six, this is Heavy Six and Mad Dog Six, we are at the bio-dome. Sorry about the wait, this heat storm makes driving across the desert like trying to drive across quicksand on range twenty seven,"
Gods above, his engineers and armor battalion had returned, and their support battalion known as Mad Dog had their vehicles as well! This meant that the crews had made it to the artillery platforms, but more importantly they would have trucks to begin transporting the civilians to the evac point. Finally a stroke of luck! Draconis had finally made it back to the site of the original hole and saw the poor twi'lek woman that shielded her child with her body to save her. He approached the body with slow reverence as he knelt before her and picked her up. He'd made a promise to that little girl. And dead or alive, no one would be left behind. Draconis would carry the body with him gingerly as he walked the rest of the way to the evac zone, where the crowds were already gathering, as people were already being screened to ensure the safety of all for the evacuation. He found the little girl on the other side of the checkpoint still being guarded by the two SLDF soldiers that he'd originally assigned to her. The heat was noticeably rising, and the girl was clearly sweating. Draconis approached the girl with the body of her mother and all present parted to allow the massive man through as a quiet stole over the checkpoint. Draconis would get to just before her, and a few medics would rush forward to the viceroy, but they all knew. He had been too late. As he laid the body of the brave woman before her child Draconis wept openly, and then taking a step back, knelt before the girl. His helmet fell away revealing his tear and sweat soaked face.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry little one. I couldn't make it in time,"
And as the little girl looked upon her mother, she hugged her lifeless body and cried with him. It would be a few minutes of solemn tears for the innocent that had been caught in the crossfire. Not a word was spoken. And then she looked up at Draconis with her giant eyes and spoke once more.
"Mr. what's gonna happen to all of us,"
"I don't know little one, we're trying to get everyone to safety, but with all of the fighting happening, I just don't know,"
"But you can make them stop can't you? Please Mr. you have to make everyone stop and help. Any person with good in their heart will listen to you,"
Draconis looked at the little girl before him, amazed at her purity of heart. To even suggest that the people who'd been fighting for the past, he didn't even know anymore to just stop fighting and join hands to help each other. To do what it took for all of them to survive. He felt that fire kindling in his chest as he saw her desperate face, already stricken with the sadness of losing a mother at such a young age. And despite it all, she thought of others. This child, thought past her own grief to what might become of all of them. Draconis wiped his face as he looked at her in awe. She was what they should all aspire to be. So pure. Draconis knew of only one way he might get through to all in the dome. He took off his oversuit chest piece, and discarded it on the ground, walking up to a pedestal that stood on overwatch watching all of the security lanes screening and getting people through the checkpoint. He climbed to the top of the roof before all of the people and unzipped his undersuit down to reveal his sweating but magnificent chest, traps, biceps, triceps even his forearms. And then with his powerful voice he called out.
"People of Ryloth! Behold it is I, Viceroy Elect Draconis Sederius Wolf of the Surric System! We are at a time of terrible tragedy and strife, and I must beseech you all to remain calm and to assist our brothers and sisters in our defense forces get us through this terrible tragedy! I am also calling out to any and all actors in this dome to cease hostilities and to come together with us, for the people of Ryloth, to help avert this crisis and buy us the time we need to evacuate all. Please lay down your weapons and help us save as many as we can because we cannot do this alone! And if you shall not believe my words," Draconis paused as he looked back to the girl who was now staring at him in wonder. Draconis dug deep for what he was about to do next.
With a grunt he began flexing, going through a series of dramatic poses, exemplifying and showcasing all of his sculpted musculature, his body and as such began to stretch out with the force. His good intentions, goodwill and wish for peace would stretch out across the crowd, nay, the entire dome as he roared his next part continuing into different poses as he cycled all of his muscle groups.
"Look upon these muscles, this body, all of the work and suffering I endured to sculpt this magnificent form in service to the Confederacy and her citizens! Look at how they flex and pulse, look at how they absolutely gleam with their purity and wish for peace! Gaze upon me and know that I shall not cease this wondrous display until all are safely aboard our evacuation transports, and let my form inspire you to do your very best in this trying time!"
While this was happening, members of the Surric Local Defense Forces went to work, Armored companies and Support companies would speed off towards bunkers further away, and begin loading up people wherever they could. On top of tanks, inside Infantry Fighting Vehicles, in the backs of trucks as more soldiers would dismount and attempt to recover as many they could from the rubble. The engineer companies would rush toward the breach and assist the TCD-2s with their own men, custom outfitted with welders, shovels and drills as they tried to seal the gap as best they could to reduce the intake airflow. It was all to buy them more time to screen people through to safety to help ensure no one else died today. And above all was Viceroy Elect Draconis, flexing as hard as he could above everyone to try and inspire all to this beautiful and pure cause. The crowd would become quiet, the soldiers conducting screenings would be less afraid and conduct their scans for weapons and explosives both thoroughly and efficiently. A comforting warmth would spread over the dome as all knew that in order to survive this, they all had to work together. All that remained was to see what the other side did. Would they take advantage of the SLDF's current position and attack them while exposed? Or would they accept the offer of peace, even temporary to do what was right and help all inside the dome?
The choice was theirs.
TLDR:
Viceroy elect Draconis has gone back to the initial site of the encounter where he encountered the girl and her mother and unfortunately had been too late to save her. Still electing that she will not be left behind, Draconis carried her body to the evacuation zone and all witnessed the humanity of him bowing before a small child and begging forgiveness for his failure. And yet, in these darkest of times, the child inspired Draconis to make a last ditch effort for all to quit the needless fighting in the bio-dome so they could all focus on the coming threat. The oncoming heat storm. The Surric Local Defense Forces have dispatched their Armored and Support Battalions which finally made it to the dome to try rescue as many civilians as possible and get them to the evacuation point, meanwhile the company of Engineers is attempting to better seal the gap to try and slow the intake and collapse of the bio dome. This leaves the gap potentially vulnerable to attack as most of the heavy equipment there is devoted to trying to buy all of the people there time as the clock is ticking and the heat is rising.
The cold air of the Nightlands was soothing to Hanna in a way that left her feeling invigorated, even while knowing that she was about to engage in a battle with the dark spirits of Ryloth, harnessed by the Mandragora. The diminutive Qilin was secure in her faith, and so, she knew that Discordia would protect her as she carried out the Dark Lady’s divine mission. However, it would nevertheless be a fight that would not only challenge Hanna’s will, but also her soul. Thus far, she had only fought enemies of the mortal plane. She had killed many mundane soldiers, warriors, and fighters while carrying out Discordia’s mission to rid the galaxy of empires and malignant states. However, she had never fought spirits, or even a warrior with command over the Force or Magick.
That was almost certain to change within the hour.
Upon seeing the flying insect-like creature, Hanna stared briefly at the creature as it flew away from the mountain. Save for her undying faith in Discordia, Hanna had never been particularly superstitious. However, with Madalena taking it as a sign of good luck, she could not help but to feel the same way. Even if it amounted to little, the appearance of the can-cell at least served as a brief reprieve from the relative monotony of the walk.
Within a few minutes, the group arrived at the foot of the stairs that led up to the altar. She had no idea what she would find up there, and the altar could very well be abandoned. Nevertheless, after loading a CryoBan canister and a power cell into the weapons on her gauntlets, she looked to Madalena, gesturing that she was prepared to ascend the stairs to the altar.
Finally at the stairs Judd looked up to the top where the Alter was supposedly located. He didn't see any sort of defensive emplacements. No laser turrets, no barriers, hell he didn't even see a freaking bird to alert the religious zealots. Pulling his rifle off his shoulder Judd knelt down and allowed BD-9 to climb up and secure himself on his back. Looking to his soldiers he gave a quick hand gesture for silence and to fall into a tactical formation. Lastly he slipped the helmet on that identified him as an Aspect of Death.
As a single unit Judd lead the group up the stairs with the rest of the AoC behind them. Rifles were held in a contact ready position, moving as they scanned in all directions during the ascent. At the top Judd barely peaked over the rise while holding out a hand to stop those behind him. He could see about a dozen of those witches going about their business. While they did seem to be on alert for something it looked as if this group wasn't actively defending the place. They were to far spread out though for an assault group reduced to a single line to get without casualties on their part. Turning to look at the small droid peaking over his shoulder, "Alright Niner. You're up."
The droid hopped down and stopped in front of Judd. The merc pulled one of his new JH-70's from his belt and attached it to the back of the droid with a small clamp that BD-9 could control, making sure to set the timer for thirty seconds. With only the slightest clanking down the droid marched up towards the Alter. As he reached the center he let out a whistle to gain the witches attention as he danced around on his legs. Silently Judd counted down as the witches all approached the small droid. At fifteen seconds his holoprojector fired up, showing several figures and playing music,
The witches looked on in perplexity as at twenty seven seconds the droid dropped the grenade from his back and ran off past the witches, holo projector still playing. The explosion happened at exactly thirty seconds. A thick cloud of glitter expanded from the small detonation covering an area of five square meters in a choking cloud that blinded those that weren't knocked off their feet. Judd lead the charge up the last few steps, the rest of the squad spreading out as they crested the top. Judd swiveled his rifle to the first figure he saw through the glitter, putting a single bolt through the head. The rest of the squad began to open fire picking their targets with care. It was all over in under ten seconds. The witches had been subdued, clearing the Alter for the rest of the Agents of Chaos.
As the others joined them Judd turned to the squad. "Start setting the charges. Who knows how long we have before the big guns respond." Looking to Madalena Antares
the mercenary looked on with a grim expression. "This was too easy. Were these hags sleeping on the job?"
The void waited, as patient as a predatory lizard. Its vast and emotionless hunger held in check by little more than the bay shield humming away to itself ahead. Around him the rest of the escort wing waited. The coms were silent, their pressurized flight suits sealed and locked. The hiss of its internal oxygen supply the clearest sound against the muffled noise of a warship's hangar bay.
Sal drummed a tune on the control stick set between his knees, the dull vibrations intermingling with the rumble of the ships engines on idle. The waiting was the worst. No matter how old he got or how anesthetized to this way of life he became, the eve of an operation always felt like the moment before a very deep, very dark, plunge into the unknown.
“Squadron, we’re clear for launch. Good hunting.”
The TIE-Locusts swarmed into the darkness and the void attacked. It devoured sound and engorged itself upon any notion of safety; They were an inch of transparasteel away from the terror of the black, a listless spin without the tether of gravity and the death of hope, a grim resignation that rescue would ever come.
Norongachi adjusted his vector, his hand guiding the control stick until he formed up on Ramrod-7’s starboard foils. Their ward was picking up speed below and slightly behind the assembled fighters, the corvette would lag behind while the squadron, broken into pairs, created a staggered perimeter. An attack from any angle could be called and responded to in this fashion by a proportionate response while the rest continued on wards.
Norongachi and R-7 were on the port side, down in the semi-circle which put them just off middle. From here, on the outer edge of the formation, he could see the flash and flicker of weapon discharges through the wide circle of his viewport. They had heard that there were allied ships engaged much deeper into the front but from this distance it was hard to tell who was coming out on top.
Every second or so his eyes flicked to the ships sensor read-out, fed from the fighters own and from the more robust and powerful sensors of the corvette. Nothing bar the main battle group that they were rapidly outpacing, it seemed that the fighting was entirely concentrated in the immediate space around the planet. Norongachi had just barely begun to think this would be a boring mission when, of course, it became decidedly less so.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a voice like the ghost of his subconscious got onto the podium, it cleared its throat, looked over its notes and then in the muted tones of a siren before an imminent nuclear strike said ‘This thing is dangerous, you should probably look at it and maybe deal with it, if you can. No pressure, of course. Just a thought.’
Sal looked, he looked with eyes ethereal, with a void spanning sense that came with mastery of the Force, and having stilled his mind to the point where time seemed to crawl, he came to only one conclusion.
“Ramrod Wing, eyes port. Brace for EMP wave.” then everything went dead, the wave hit but distance had blunted its force. He was adrift, they all were outside his viewport, but they hadn’t been dashed against one another or spun off into the hungry jaws of the black. Small mercy, he thought as he tried to bring his systems back online.
The oxygen still hissed in his suit, which was nice, and according to the control panel the computers were restarting. Nothing was fried, they’d been lucky, twenty feet to the port and it might have been a very different story.
His coms gave a screech and in the next second it solidified into the voice of the squadron commander. “Sound off.” and they did, no one had been lost in whatever the frak that was.
“Ramrod-8, checking in.” Sal responded absentmindedly as he brought himself back into formation with R-7.
Portal magic was still a work in progress for Shamira. It made her feel slightly bad to watch Julra exhaust herself so by opening one and not being able to help much. But they all had their strengths and weaknesses. This, this was not one of Shamira’s. Knowing this, and knowing there was no reason to try and prove herself to the others, she took a step back. Hers and Vi’s arms bumped slightly against the other, prompting the redhead to look up at the taller witch and give her the slightest of smiles.
It wasn’t her normal, more jovial smile. She knew the magnitude of what they were facing. The idea of losing her new home was almost…overwhelming. So much so that the large explosion that ripped through the biodome practically shook her. What else could do to this place they hadn’t already? What more pain could they truly wish to cause?
These thoughts consumed her mind, dragging a dreary cloud over her head, distracting her so that she barely registered the bounding, large lupine headed their direction until it was just in time, quickly stumbling backward. For a moment she pouted, letting out a soft, “rood..” before her small smile returned once again. For as horrible as this day had been, it would’ve been quite the feat for her own life to be ended by a bounding lupine. Not the most..heroic way to go out.
After the fluffy creature and the pair it carried were inside the portal, Shamira followed, assuming that Vi was right behind her. It seemed as though the portal had opened right in the courtyard, a place that Shamira had spent plenty of time since being brought to the Mandragora. Plenty of quiet, shaded places to sit in and read. If she ever needed time away from Caer Badru, this was her most used spot of relief.
Vytal surprised the young witch by speaking to her for a moment. It wasn’t normal for her to be singled out such as this, but when the Nightmother told her what she needed, the small smile that had been peaking at the edges of her lips turned into a slightly larger, more ferocious grin. Before the Nightmother began to address the others, Shamira had already dashed off, heading toward one of the few doors in this place that she knew exactly where it would lead.
The door was not far away, enough so that the redhead was still within earshot of the Nightmother making her speech. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Viana Morreth had followed her, giving her the slightest of nods. Then, with a deep breath, the door to the greenhouse was opened, leading into the Arboretum. Quite the useful things, those doors. Made it so that Shamira didn’t exactly need to learn to use portals. Would still be a good idea at some point, she supposed.
But no, now was the time to gather supplies. Not checking to make sure Vi was following her, her boots echoed throughout the hall as she made her way over to one of the work benches. There, laying coiled on the table, her whip sat. She hadn’t expected to use this today, or any time soon for that matter. This wasn’t the only reason that she carefully, slowly picked the whip up, coiling it as soft as possible around her forearm. “Iscebore oil!” Shamira called out to Viana, nodding to the glass potion glass as she did so. “These things barbs are tipped with it. Adds an extra…bite.” There was a little grin as she said this, finally curling it enough to place the whip on her belt.
There was time to gather a few more small items from the workbench before she needed to get to the riverbank outside. Nesmite Tree Seed Pods, placed carefully in her knapsack, a small pack of Thralda Leaves, and a couple of Water of Life Potions. As she did so, Shamira made another general nod, motioning to the workbench. “Take whatever you need Vi. I can replace it all later…..I hope.” There a little nervous laugh now, the reality of the situation taking it’s full toll on the younger witch’s mind. This..really could be the last time she saw this place. That she might have to leave her home again.
Before those thoughts could paralize the witch’s nerves, she was practically sprinting toward the outer doors that lead to the river at the base of the greenhouse. The stone barrier stopped her from sliding off the edge, but the slight pain that blossomed from her hips from slamming into the stone barely registered in the moment. Instead, her eyes were focused straight outward, scanning the riverbank for the things she knew would be there. And it didn’t take long to find them.
Though sixteen feet long, nine foot tall monsters made out of the flesh of the earth would be quite hard to miss.
The drop down to the riverbanks was certainly not a small one, but hopping over the railing, the botanist gripped onto the vine, allowing it to slow her descent. Red locks rippled around her face as the wind whipped across it throughout the decent. Her landing was less..soft than she might otherwise intend, but a little pain in the knees was nothing at the moment. The moment her boots hit the ground, Shamira was off once again, sprinting toward her creations.
Her sprint came to a skidding stop a few meters away, however, as one of the Risen lifted it’s head from it’s river drinking, slightly perturbed that their redheaded creator had so rudely run up on them. The huge beast slowly turned to face the woman straightforward, while the other two moved to flank it. Quite the intimidating site, their long and twisted bamboo tusks tilting from side to side as they regarded their creator.
In any other situation, Shamira might be more concerned by these things and their wild behavior. She had seen how they would attack practically anything that moved, including the Mandragora unlucky enough to be nearby. The one who had risen them, given them flesh and weapons of plant was seemingly tolerated by them, but even she had received a nasty gash or two from these things and their romping.
At this moment, they all seemed to just be regarding her, wondering why the thing that had given them new life had run up and ruined their water drinking. This moment of silence was not one to just allow to pass by. Shamira, creating a diamond by connecting her outstretched pinky and forefinger, pulled them apart as a blue line of magic was created in a circular motion. Once created and the fingers connected again, slowly she began to walk forward, the circle of blue light moving with her. There was a snort of danger from the risen she approached, however, the moment she got close enough, Shamira’s hand slowly reached forward, pressing her palm to the forehead. This process was repeated for the other two, and with her unique binding spell completed, the witch had a small bit of control of these things actions. Even that amount of control was hard to maintain, feeling the reanimated beasts fighting her mind every few seconds.
By the time she was finished, Shamira could feel the Nightmother’s approach. She held out a hand toward the woman, attempting to stop her in her tracks for a moment. “Slowly..I have control of them for the moment. They won’t attack us..but I don’t want to lose concentration.” With that, she slowly turned around, giving a nod to both the Nightmother and Viana, smiling lightly as she did so, attempting to not betray the strain this spell put on her.
With the portal open, the witch didn’t hesitate to make her way through, the ground shaking beneath her feet with each and every step of the risen that followed her in step. Even as they emerged at a flat of the mountain, not the summit, the sight of the men and women who did not belong here was very easily seen. The men and women that wanted to take this place from them, and wanted to take yet another home from Shamira.
Sensing the one that controlled them’s anger beginning to boil, one of the risen took a few steps forward to flank the young witch, it’s size dwarfing her. There was a low grumbling in it’s throat, building for a few seconds, before the risen let out a gripping roar, echoing through the mountains as it reverberated off every surface. The other two soon joined in, adding to the roar of warning that came from the witch’s beasts. If those at the summit that did not belong there hadn’t noticed the Mandragora before, they certainly had now.
Lash sat back in his chair now waiting for things to come together. The first of the sensors dropped by the IREC vetes was starting to propagate on the holo display. sections of space around Ryloth started to fill in as the sensors probes began to map the system. The active sensor pings would surely be noticed soon but by the time anyone could intercept the corvettes the job would be done. Lash would have a map of anything solid within the system. The corvettes advanced astronavigational processors had already begun the mapping process. Three of the picket groups were now laying their last sensors and would be moving to their last points. Why the Ramrod force was behind he did not know. He would be sure to ask the human when he seen him next.
"Commander, Ramrod has reached its halfway point and has laid six of its twelve sensors in place. The remaining groups are moving into position to finalize the net." said the Chiss general sitting next to Lash. He was reading from a small display on the arm of his chair. Lash nodded then looked back tot he hologram and the lagging force Ramrod.
"Should we have the human executed once he returns commander?" asked the General noticing Lash's irritation at the situation. Lah thought about it for a moment then replied.
"No, if we executed humans for being inept was would be at it for a thousand years and the galaxy would still be cursed with ineptitude," answered Lash. He would deal with the man when the time was right. For now he watched as the corvette and its escorts moved to deploy their seventh sensor pod.
"Sir, the ELINT vessel is picking up encrypted chatter from the enemy fleet. They are running it through the COM_SCAM system." Lash listened to tot he man then waved off the information. It would take to long for the device to decrypt the data. The description used by the CIS was too good for that. He had made it a priority to have his engineering team study the CIS systems available to him. Even the old systems were good. Better than the COM-Scan system. No, he did not need to know what they were saying. Soon enough they would have something to talk about.
"Have the engineers disregard the data, It is not worth our time or effort, whatever they are discussing is no matter to use," said Lash. He watched the data on the holo screen slowly fill in. The IFF data was hit and miss currently as some craft were disabled and not transmitting and others were in some form of jamming or another. This system mapped the operational area recognizing anything with mass. Anything in the system without a gravitational modulator would show up as a nameless icon. While he would not know what the icon represented outside its mass he would know where it was.
"Helm, slow us to one-quarter speed. inform the fleet we will be moving into formation gamma five." ordered Lash. with the order the navigation crew, as well as the communications crew, went to work. A moment later the display covering the area above the Termigant was filled with the hull of the Aurora-class destroyer. The Onager had caught up with he group and was now moving at a thirty-degree upward course taking it into a position directly above Termagant. The Longbow had moved into position to the port of the Termigant matching its course and speed. Flanking it on each side were the two Odysseus-class cruisers. The Agitator had moved up beside the Termagant to her starboard side and locked itself int a course with her. Behind the Termagant, the Proclaimer moved in to guard the rear of the formation. The EWAR and ELINT frigates each took up position below the Termigant adjusting their speed to match. The remaining thirteen pickets sat to the port of the group awaiting orders.
The formation slowed as it moved into long-range weapons range. Lash knew his group would now be within the reach of the CIS long guns. He also knew he had already been in range of the proton beam the massive dreadnaught had fired on the Golden Lance.
"Hold here Admiral'" ordered Lash. It was here he would make his stand when the time comes. Closing with the CIS group would put him into standard weapons range opening his force up to a staggering amount of firepower. Any closer and the Chiss formation would be vastly outgunned, here he stood a chance.
Location: Ryloth - Festival - Under the Bright Clouds Equipment: Claws and a bill - Mighty Weapons Tagging: Srina Talon
| Moe Uilor
He was king of the world! From up here all the worms would look like…well little worms, but the giants didn’t seem quite so big. From up here the tiny ducking could even look the giants in their eyes…such big big eyes. It was like they were trying to look right through him, all the way. The Quacklord was more than up to this though, small beady black eyes meeting the others…they were just so big.
Duckie wasn’t scared, no, the giants never scared him, it was just, well the reason he was huddling close to the nice white lady’s head was because he needed to protect her. That was it, totally it. He had to protect her.
The duckling nodded sagely to himself, seemingly satisfied as he peered around, quacking softly in surprise as a tiny man in a robe seemed to appear, offering a green…it was a pea! A happy sound broke from the ducklings bill as he waddled over, swallowing the pea eagerly as a fluffy cheek rubbed against the rub against the jawa’s hand. The Pea giver.
Eaten, and sated, the ducking waddled back to stand next to the nice white lady’s head quacking softly as he saw a fountain blast up into the air. It looked like…it was the worms, those deadly deadly worms had struck again!
Before the duckling could launch himself into combat he realised his bill was open, panting slightly. Was it just him? Was it getting warm in here?
The large swarm of starfighter vessel's ebbed and flowed around the carriers and kept themselves from following to close to the Wild Stallion and Free Bird as they shut off engines after closing to firing distance of the Golden Lance.
The Monarch Class Destroyers Wild Stallion and Free Bird felt the full effect of the emp shockwave, along with at least half of the starfighters they had deployed.
The Spectre's behind them were lost now without orders, and the remaining half of the starfighter groups did their best to avoid colliding with the ones that had been unfortunate to be caught in the EMP.
The remaining starfighters, a mix of Needle interceptors, Oni Prowlers, and Ghost Bombers rushed forward in pairs and trio's to cover their fallen comrades that were trying to power back up. The Needle Interceptors formed trio's, waiting for anything to come near as they swarmed around the fallen starfighters. The Monarch Destroyers were slow to power back on, but they were closer to military vessels and had a larger crew than the Unicorn to chase down problems as they beginning to maneuver as soon as power returned to present their front to the enemy fleet that had closed on the Golden Lance.
The Spectre's behind the Unicorn began shifting once more, presenting broadside to the same target as the Monarch's. Oni prowler's ranged a touch further than the Needle Intereptors, their speed and dark paint making them a troubling target to spot in the vacuum of space as they attempted to bait enemy starfighters into chasing them. The Needle Interceptors prepared to line up shots at anything that came within the bounds of trying to get near one of their own. The lot of the starfighters never stopped moving, constantly shifting their position to keep from being targeted readily. Multiple groups always had shots on anything the Oni Prowlers drew close.
Twin ion repeaters were prepared to fire from the Needle Interceptors, follow up shots by their twin laser cannons while the Oni prowlers prepared their laser cannons and maneuvered as quickly and deftly as they could to give the Needlers and Ghost Bombers shots on anything that would chase them. The Oni Prowlers criss-crossed each other, giving themselves shots of anything on their partners six.
The ghost bombers were the final line in the three starfighter defensive line as the Monarch's slowly presented their weapons to the incoming enemy, heavy ion cannons and laser cannon banks focused on pushing back any enemy starfighters that approached.
The Unicorn crew covered their bases, putting out fires and chasing down shorts as the power was slowly brought back online. Life support coming back online first before lights came back shortly after. Communications were still down however, the external signal lights were spotty at best as the rest of the fleet moved on their own to cover the incapacitated vessels around them.
MAIN FLEET* - (8.1km) SHC Unicorn- Dimitri Lindzinsky (12 active squadrons) Pocket Carriers - 6 (4 active squadrons each) Monarch Class Destroyers - 2 (5 active squadrons each) Wraith Vessels - 1 - Disarmed of Weapons (now empty and slowly putzing out of atmo)
Jai looked at the direction Madalena said they were going, taking a breath before following. If he could run through tunnels and dodge gunfire, a few miles of walking wouldn't hurt. He wasn't even breaking a sweat before a can-cell flew by, and Madalena mentioned it was a good omen. Good omen.... He wished he'd had more of those. It put him a little at ease though. Yes, he was a bit freaked out about what they were going to face, but it was better.
He then looked up at the steps, taking a breath and noticing the Strill seemed nervous. "Elca? Voldi? Something wrong?" He looked over at the others, looking around and tightening his grip on his weapons. "Well if their nervous, I'm going with be cautious. Animals tend to be good judges of when things aren't right." But what Jai saw next, he wasn't ready for.
"Judd.... Were you drunk when you planned this? We never even pulled this kind of distraction." Jai'galaar then made sure his Strill were close, sighing a little. Charges. Right.
Location: Capital City
Objective: Asssault the infidels | Destroy the biodome
Troops: 60 -> 50 Lylek riders
Troop Equipment: Mining Shields, vibroswords, Sonic blasters, blaster rifles, thermal imploders
Tags: Madalena Antares
| Rann Thress
| Vytal Noctura
| Srina Talon
| The Monster
| Anyone else in Biodome
Persona: Sarif & Saraphina
Sitting atop his lylek, Sarif pushed onwards towards the force user that had come to a stop. Having hit the man once in the chest with a sonic bolt the alien was confused why he wasn’t looking at a pile of goo or paste. Sonic rifles didn’t truly incapacitate people but could entirely destroy their beings. Quickly turning up the power settings of his blaster, Sarif raised his head just in time to see three larger boulders barreling at his lylek.
Raising the sonic blaster and firing at the first boulder the sonic waves impacted it, its sonic screech penetrating the air, the reverberations of the round slamming into the boulder and with an explosion the first boulder did little more than shower bits of stone upon the lylek. The other two slammed into the beast Sarif sat upon, the creature coming to an immediate stop, stumbling over itself and falling over.
From the lylek’s back Sarif flew free, his body slamming into the duracrete. Using the momentum Sarif came up on a knee his blaster raised firing three more rounds at Rann Thress
. None of the three rounds were aimed in the same direction, within a close area Sarif shot one round directly at his foe, the second and thirds off to each side of him.
Glancing over his shoulder to his mount, Sarif stared past the rising beast and to the progress the Confederacy soldiers were attempting to make on sealing the fissure he’d sacrificed his people for. “They can not be allowed to halt the storm! Do what you must brothers!”
A few of the lylek’s and their beast riders lay unmoving on the ground before the Confederacy mercs. [ The Monster
] For the most part the thick exoskeleton’s of the creatures kept them from being truly wounded by meager projectile rounds, the beast riders using their mounts as a defense as they fired sonic rounds back at the mercenaries.
A cyan skinned twi’lek listened as the orders came through from Sarif. Her eyes glancing to the furrow that the other mercs attempted to seal, to null the sacrifice, to cheat the twi’lek’s of what they worked so hard for. Saraphina had joined this battle alongside her brothers one of which lay dead before the mercs. Tears threatened to fight their way to the surface as Saraphina drove her mount towards the pile of vehicles.
A hail of bullets rose up to meet her, many pinged off the carapace of the lylek, though four struck home. Two in the right side of her chest, another in her left shoulder, and the fourth slamming into her cheek. Crimson ichor coated the once cyan skin, the liquid retreating down her form as it went limp on the back of the charging lylek. Another stream of blood joined the others, though this one from Saraphina’s mouth. Her vision blurred, her sense of touch retreating. The world itself seemed to grow cold around her as she let her body fall off the lylek.
Her near lifeless body met the ground, rolling across it, coming to a stop close to the wreckage being used to fill the holes. From within her vest a holodisk fell free, sliding across the ground and activating. A blue image was projected from the disk, one of Saraphina flanked by two other twi’leks. Their arms holding each other, smiles touching their faces. How long had it been since any of them had truly smiled? Since they truly celebrated. They would never have the chance again. “I’m coming Marqim.” Giving a final cry Saraphina fought against the hold pain had on her, fought against the burning that filled her form. She commanded her arm to reach her chess, pressing a chit near her chest.
Where Saraphina lay, a bloom of flame was created to swallow some of the mercenary droids and engulf bits of the wreckage creating a chain reaction with the engines that hadn’t been deactivated. What would’ve been a contained explosion turned into a detonation that continued onwards further destroying vehicles and simply making the fissure larger.
Sarif moves to engage Rann Thress
Some beastriders fighting The Monster
and his men.
Saraphina sacrificing herself to create a chain reaction of explosions and halt progress on sealing the dome.
The voice of Thalia Senn
came through his com. Picking up the device Shuulk raised it to his lips while the rest of his men went on to continue preparing themselves for the coming engagement. “I have done what I must for the sanctity of our world! I have ensured the destruction of the Confederacy’s hold on the planet.”
Turning and looking out a nearby hole in the mountain, Shuulk stared to the north where the capital bio-dome was placed. “I am only sorry that it came to this brother. Your sacrifice will always be remembered. This is our everything! This shouldn’t be a surprise! This is what I love! What we love! Ryloth! Our planet! Yet sometimes the things we love don’t love us back. We can give, and we can give, and we can give, and we’ll get nothing in return! But no, here, right now we will change the world. Death is only feared by those ignorant to the freedom it brings. Much like how the storms of our world cleanse its surface, so to shall the biodome.”
“Sir you have to see this!” Came the voice of an insurgent that had taken up watch nearby.
Walking over to the hole and taking the macrobinoculars from the scout, Shuulk raised them to his eyes. In the skies above heading towards them, were three flying beasts, the likes of which Shuulk had never seen nor imagined in his worst nightmares. Orange skin flushing slightly, Shuulk’s hand shook. “This means nothing. Tell Naraah to prepare the ship faster.”
Tossing the macrobinoculars back, Shuulk scolded himself for not stealing a larger vessel when they had the chance. “Prepare yourselves our enemy is upon us!”
It was not a command, it was a knowing. With it came other actions coordinated by unspoken words. Tyrias' fleet stopped firing just as the Apophis and the remaining Flak Corvettes hyperdrives performed a microjump. A dangerous maneuver especially near a gravity well, but the ships had solid, modernized navigational systems.
The second they re-appeared their engines were on full. But it was not even imperative to maintain speed with the Golden Lance at this point; though being smaller vessels even 'standard' might match a larger vessel's speed. This was no escort duty, or an attempt to cut them off. Calculations had been in progress by other officers for the extremely risky maneuver they planned to perform. Yet there still seemed time. It was all they had to work with -- an effort to prevent a calamity brought on knowingly by a reckless adversary.
Whether any selectively edited broadcast made it out of the system was not their top priority at the moment. There were plenty of recordings of their own that could be sent in response, should Command at that later date choose to do so. Tyrias' broadcast warning the Golden Lance off, for example.
The Apophis' RMR-TR8 Hamada Tractor Beams would play the critical role in what followed. It was the strongest array in the fleet. Weapons fire seemed to be having little effect against the vessel despite its loss in mass, so a microjump to close the distance plus the Flak Corvettes' standard beams would work in conjunction instead. They could help support the structural integrity of the Golden Lance (KKaine Australis
), and nudge it off its present course.
Multiple outcomes were possible. The ships could succeed in having the vessel crater out in the wilderness (fractions of degrees could help spare any dome at this altitude), or they could manage to pull it just enough to 'bounce' or 'skim' off the planet's atmosphere, or if they maintained speed, pull, and power they might even fling it back into deep space. The chances of success dropped accordingly with greater and greater degrees of course correction involved. Another possibility existed where the nearby vessels could incinerate the vessel before impact to lessen the destructive power if that was absolutely necessary. Projections did not anticipate nor call for it, as they should at least be able to manage a wilderness impact.
Then there were the consequences. Another reason it was not their first choice. The ships were going to need to be relatively close to the ship to pull this off. The Flak Corvettes were not large vessels either. The Apophis was going to be the heavier lifter, with the other ships supplementing. A larger vessel might very well drag all of them down with it. Its explosion might easily fling them away only to suffer a catastrophic end themselves. Their Eir Defense System shielding should supply a great deal of protection, but no defense was perfect. An exploding vessel released a good deal of power and debris. Yet, the Confederacy could not stand idly by and watch the intruders devastate the planet below. They would try, gods kark it, no matter what they tried to say afterward.
Meanwhile, Commander Jamieson had an Officer respond to Kathryn Foster
's communication. "Horizon Leader, Sapphiric Scorn, stand by."
"This is the Confederate Naval Ship Sapphiric Scorn. Disabled starfighters have been sighted in orbit of Ryloth. Support craft will render assistance. If these vessels are under the command of unidentified vessels in the Ryloth system, make your intentions known at this time. Rescued pilots can be returned to their ship of origin provided such vessels do not engage in hostilities or further Acts of War, at which time such pilots would be held until diplomatic relations are restored. Sapphiric Scorn out." They broadcasted their intentions on an open frequency to all vessels (Dimitri Lindzinsky, Lash
, Bella
, Kyrinov
) within the system before any action was authorized.
"Horizon Leader, continue to monitor. If unidentified vessels do not lay claim you will be authorized to render assistance to the disabled vessels. They are to be treated as a non-combatants until proven otherwise, but caution is advised. Continue to broadcast intent to render aid upon approach. Do you copy?" They were occupied saving a planet and didn't have the resources to check on the state of the unidentified vessels except to note some had suffered power loss resulting from the explosion. It would be unfortunate if they suddenly regained sensors and jumped to any conclusions about Confederate starfighters approaching their own craft -- assuming they belonged to the unannounced commander.
Comm and radio chatter became irradiate. Wild with commands being screamed back and forth. A bead of sweat fell down the back of J'onns lekklu and the pressure across his chest tightened hearing Oceiros Sunstrider
and Thalia Senn
conversation. Taking in a deep breath he interjected his own view of the situation after ending his latest broadcast across the dome.
" Jan! Shuulk! We all knew what we were getting into when we planned this all out. It is impossible to curb every obstacle. We are not gods and neither is the CIS government. By all that is sacred I will not forfeit this operation! Some of our own kind have already fled the domes and are on their way to the caves. Those who are not...They have chosen their fate."
J'onns hoisted a blaster rifle and secured it over his back. Where he stood now was a large ranch not too far from the domes. There he had, to some surprise, Blurrgs and Rycrits. A roar echoed from a large barn like shed and after going inside the twi'leks hand brushed against the scaley hide of another fauna. This time, it was something more exotic. Mounting the large male dragon like creature J'onns overlooked the herds of animals in front of him and whispered to his companion. " Shhhh. We are going now." He spoke softly to the Drexl. This was nothing compared to Lyleks the flooded the streets but these simple creatures could get alot done if directed. Not to mention stampede CIS forces if needed.
" This is J'onns. Your backup is in coming! FOR RYLOTH!!!!"
Rann breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the Twi'lek (Oceiros Sunstrider
) get taken down from his mount, but almost immediately, a feeling of dread hit his stomach. The Twi'lek hit the ground in a roll, firing three shots at Rann with marksmanship like precision. If they weren't trying to kill eachother, Rann'd be impressed! Thinking quickly, Rann summoned upon the Force and leaped into the air, jumping forward at the Twi'lek shooter, trying to dodge the blasts from that rifle, and also close the gap between them.
He didn't jump as high as he'd liked. In fact, it was more of a dive over the blasts. He rolled out of the dive and came up on his feet.
"Yeah, I can do that too." He said to no one in particular. As he rose to his feet he hated that his plan worked the way it did. Now he had to close the gap. He wondered how to do that. Distraction he thought, as he flipped his saber around, holding it in reverse and flung it at the shooter, more of a shock tactic then anything. He started running towards the shooter, frantically trying to think of anything he could do.
Suddenly, remembered that this Armor he was wearing contained weaponry. He aimed his right gauntlet at the Twi'lek and fired the Vajra Launcher weapon, again more as a shock factor than anything. Rann didn't know how to use the suit systems or it's weaponry too well, he just hoped to get close to the Twi'lek and rely on his Lightsaber or the Force to end the fight. Anything else was just a distraction, trying to avoid getting hit with those blasts. This armor was tough, he didn't think it was that tough.
Today has already been a long day, turning into a puddle of goo wasn't something Rann wanted to do.
He continued running, the gap between them wasn't much longer now. One way or another, this fight was about to end.
Every system in the interceptor was down. Engines, inertial compensators, life support, shields, communications, sensor arrays, and even the lights in her cabin had been roasted by the EMP shockwave that had struck her craft. Fortunately, she had four hours of oxygen linked to her rebreather, but that was the only positive regarding the situation. So far, she had no idea how bad the rest of the fighters in her squadron had been affected by the EMP discharge. However, after a few moments, she saw a pair of Needle interceptors fly next to her. One of the pilots was gesturing wildly to her, and it was then that she realized that she had another problem looming in the distance.
Her craft was slowly floating in the direction of the Confederate fleet.
She moved quickly to pull on her center stick, but the action was futile at best and detrimental to her situation at worst. Suddenly, she could feel a sense of panic building up in her core. She attempted to reboot the systems to no effect, along with a host of other options that were accessible on the flight control panel in front of her. Already, the diminutive pilot was beginning to consider opening the transparisteel canopy in order to extract herself from the craft. In truth, beyond flying the things, she had no conception regarding how starships actually worked. She could open the small maintenance access hatch behind her cockpit and squeeze or tug at the wires, but beyond that, there was little else she could do. All the while, her squadmates were still gesturing wildly at her. It wouldn’t be long before her craft reached the point where she would be in range of an enemy tractor beam, making her vulnerable to capture.
At risk of electrocuting herself or worse, Bella chose the only option available to her.
Unbuckling herself from her seat, the diminutive Togruta floated up and out of the seat before grabbing onto her control stick using that to leverage her body towards the maintenance access hatch. Then, she quickly opened it and took in the various power cables inside. Fortunately, each of them were conveniently labeled, but there was still a large chance that she could do something that would only further worsen the already-calamitous situation. Nevertheless, she remembered a nugget of wisdom that her tech-savvy Mirialan roommate at the Fleet Academy of Scintilla had told her when she was having troubles with her personal computer in the minutes before she was due to show an important presentation to her class, which she would have otherwise failed had she not been able to get the computer working.
“Have you tried turning it off and on again?”
Intuition told her to find the biggest and most robust power cable, the label of which told her that it was connected to the main reactor of the craft. It was a risk, and she knew that she could very well expose herself to radiation poisoning or suffer some other adverse outcome if she went through with what she had in mind, but beyond opening the canopy and attempting to push her interceptor in a direction away from the Confederate fleet, she had no other options.
As the mounted troops retreat, Allya’s forces still held their fire. They didn’t fire at the group before, they didn’t fire now. As Strider was left alone on the rock and sand desert floor Allya landed a good ten yards from the man. Knocked one off the bucket list! The dust was kicked up by her respulsorlifts, as her feet touched the ground. She walked forward a couple meters and reached out a hand to Strider. “You invaded my Clans territory. You joined that Di'kut Kaine in invading one of my homes. Was the money good?” Her voice was thick with distaste. People like Strider had made her childhood almost unbarable. Their hate had washed over her, simply because of her ability to use the force
The reality of her life was that the older men in her life always betrayed her in some fashion or another. Her father had tortured her, abused and twisted the girl into the image she now had, her body covered in unhealing scars. Her uncles had used her as a pawn in their games for power, and there was whatever Adron had wanted. Two of her aunts had lost their minds and were fighting with these…..whatever they were. They clearly never wanted freedom. It seemed like they just wanted to destroy. Masters left her, heroes abandoned, and legends always left her wanting.
And yet for all that HATRED she held toward Strider in this moment as the outlet for her issues, for his betrayal and attack on her clan holdings, she couldn’t find it in her heart to condemn him. “Thank you, Davaab-6R. Do not chase the enemy. Heat storm in that direction, they will either evac or be boiled. Do not fire upon the lone warrior.”
“I would know your armor on sight. Clan Garon. Strider. We met at the asteroid, and upon removing Kaine from his high and mighty place. And yet, here you are? Following him into battle?” Her hand felt her lightsaber hilt and she huffed. The teen sighed at the man. “I will give you three options.” She held up three fingers. “First, you will come with me, I will get you a drink, and treat you as a guest. You will be interrogated, no drugs, no torture, just asked questions. In a short amount of time we will negotiate with your clan to for you to be returned. You will be treated as Mando’ade.” When she finished she brought down one of her fingers. “Two, you fight me, and that youngster over there.” She pointed towards Shuklaar. “You defeat us, our armies let you rejoin your men. You leave and that is that. But we win, you are treated as a prisoner.” With that, she put down another finger, and held up only one. “Finally, you argue about the other two options and we simply let our troops open fire, and you die like a dog.”
Life was precious, it shouldn’t be wasted. He had options, ways out. How he was treated was up to him, what his conviction was. Would he simply be willing to die to keep from being captured? Would he want to fight for his freedom? Or would he want to be welcomed as a guest of the CIS clans, understanding that he had invaded and accepting the consequence of that?
Sergei was manning the heavy machine guns as the lyleks advanced on their positions. The tactical combat droids first aimed for the lyleks but after seeing the 6.8mm rounds didn't have much of an effect on their thick hides, swapped to aiming for their riders, spreading out into a wider formation and laying down suppressive fires on them. Meanwhile the M-2 HMG and M-19 GMG, which were designed to counter light and even some heavier armor and then there was the MAAWS. That recoilless rifle was meant to kill tanks. Actual tanks. So when the first few lyleks that came up to assault their position got smacked by the HEAT warheads they dropped like rocks. Very dead rocks. But they kept coming. And finally one managed to break through, however dying almost immediately as not only was its rider shot several times forcing them to dismount, but a TCD-2 actually turned around, grabbed this thing by its neck and slammed it into the ground, killing it almost instantly. But some movement from the rider was caught by Sergei as he looked back, she was reaching for something.
"FRAK, GRENADE GET CLEAR!"
Two TCD-1s responded almost instantly, diving on top of the twi'lek to shield their brothers from the blast. As she went for the button, the TCD-2 that had just killed the lylek with its battle fist also jumped atop her. This would cause them to absorb most of the blast, the vest turning them into shrapnel as the rest of the Wolves dove into the dirt for any kind of cover. But it could have been a lot worse. Sergei himself had a piece of the TCD-1 slam into his body glove, and while he was bleeding, he'd live. He reached back behind his side and felt the piece of droid now sticking out of him. Blasted suicide bombers. These people had made their choice. They were clearly uninterested in the number of civilian deaths on their hands. The remaining TCD-2s at this time decided to turn around and level their very well armed arms at the remaining lyleks and share their ammunition with them at gun point. The auto-cannons, designed for armor vehicle combat were much less forgiving than the M-2s that Sergei had been firing moments before. Which they also had, and also decided to fire on the enemy lyleks because at this point they were the greatest threat to their position. Sergei would run over to one of the fallen comrades who'd dropped his MAAWS and would load another round of HEAT into the weapon in seconds, leveling it at the nearest lylek and firing. Sergei was enraged that these people clearly didn't have a care in the world for how much innocent blood they spilled. That these people, inspired and clearly allied with AoC, were conducting all of these heinous crimes, unanswered. No condemnation. No reining in their blood lust. These terrorists weren't people they were animals. And if it was one thing Sergei knew, the CIS never condoned anything like this. It's why his men were fighting as they were, dying as they were.
The sacrifices of the chosen, well trained, and willing few, over the deaths of thousands.
Sergei had trained for this exact moment. He pushed the pain of his wound out of his mind as he focused on the task before him. He knew the CIS would have an answer coming. That these animals would pay for everything they had done. He just had to continue pushing, to keep fighting. They had to hold the line.
Because to lose here would mean that all of their sacrifices had been for naught.
TLDR:
Sergei, his commandos and droids have taken some losses but are managing to hold the lyleks at bay. Since most of his heavy weapons are useless he's sticking with all of his anti-tank weapons to include the MAAWS Anti-Tank Recoilless Rifle, and the TCD-2s primary weapon, a M-44 35mm Auto-cannon. He has fifteen troopers plus himself armed with the MAAWS, and another 12 TCD-2s with the 35mm Auto-Cannons now on the defense holding the line, who are engaging anyone who attempts to approach the seal with hostile intent. This has taken all of the TCD-2s off of construction of the physical seal of the dome, and slowed down the construction considerably, but with the TCD-2s now focused on defense, the TCD-1s and remaining commandos can use their man power to assist in construction of the seal. Sergei is currently bleeding through a wound in his body glove which also means that his suit integrity is compromised. He's lost 15 commandos (10 wounded, 5 KIA) to the blast of the twi'lek suicide bomber, however preventing the destruction of the seal.
(Edit for forgetting to color speech text, many apologies)
Amelia von Sorenn
,
Tyrias Aran
|
Luna Terrik
|
Srina Talon
|
Darth Metus
|
The Monster
|
Kiff Brayde
Madalena Antares
|
Scherezade deWinter
| Dimitri Lindzinsky |
Lash
|
Bella
|
Strider Garon
|
Oceiros Sunstrider
