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Objective: Blow Stuff Up
Location: Near the Storm Fleet
Allies: CIS, @ Muad Dib
Enemies: GE
Theme Music: Flying in the Sky
The wing of starfighters came out of hyperspace in formation led by a single light fighter painted a brilliant bright red that seemed out of place, and different than the rest of fighters it had exited hyperspace with. Despite jumping in behind the Storm Fleet, their mission was air superiority planet-side and supporting ground operations where possible.
"So Uh... Why did you get the darn thing painted red exactly in the first place?" One Pilot commented.
Azrik, inside the red yet fast Elite Starfighter leading The 156th Confederacy Fighter Wing, could only chuckle at the question. "So many aces paint their ships black to blend into the void of space. I want my enemies to see me coming. Then they will know fear." A smirk spread across his face as the last of the twenty CSX-001 came out of hyperspace and into formation. "This is Szabla Lead. Preparing to enter atmosphere and provide support for ground forces. After we establish a safe zone I'll signal for a bomber wing." Azrik said over a secure channel to Muad Dib. He then punched the throttle and the interceptor surged forward at blinding speed, the CSX-001s following close behind as he dipped down towards planet's surface.
The story behind how Azrik and the custom Rassilon fighter was an interesting one. Some interesting characters had come to him with an offer to fly sorties for the CIS in exchange for getting out of CIS prison and not dying in one Geonosis's many gladiatorial fighting pits. Although his custom red TIE/Interceptor still remained impounded. But none the less a vehicle platform like the Rassilon-Class Corusca Wings Custom was a dangerous fighter in the hands of someone like himself. Being a wing commander was better then being an exiled noble trying to get by as a bottom feeder pilot for hire.
Glancing at his fighter's avionics he carefully looked at the enemy's defensive positions. "Alright those hypervelocity guns are a problem for our capital ships. All units get at a low angle and prepare for a strafing maneuver." Azrik had seen these hypervelocity guns before and their 'winking eyes' as their shields blinked on and off between when firing its slugs. The timing was tricky when firing a volley of missiles, but it could be done. Getting onto his communicator Azrik ordered his wing to form up into two groups. If the first group failed to eliminate the gun emplacements, the second group would launch another timed attack. Thus placing the Hypervelocity guns under constant threat of being hit by a strafing run.
Kurenai Yumi Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems Location: Drop Ships/Surface
Objective: Task Force Hurricane (try and find out what the fuk I am supposed to do)
Enemies: The Galactic Empire & Allies
Post: 4
Gear: LightSaber Yari, Armor, LMG
The loss of life did not go unnoticed to Kurenai as the drop ships started to take fire upon their decent, herself able to feel anger seep from [member="Darth Metus"] as their forces came under fire from enemy anti air emplacements, but it was to be expected with the battle plan in place. Deliver ground forces as soon as possible and strike before the enemy can form a proper defense, in contrast to eliminate the enemy fleet and wage a costly trench warfare like battle against a well dug in opposition, despite air and orbital bombardment support. Probably the reason why all the tasks forces used in the invasion where given code names after 'storms' and other weather like disasters, theywhere to be quick, fast and destructive, not slow cumbersome and weak.
Fortunately her drop ship was not among the few shot down, well not completely, during the rapid decent an explosion for a nearby craft had damaged her crafts engine, forcing the pilot to crash land a few hundred meters away from the area designated to be the staging point for and her droid [member="Aya Clarke"] army. Opening the main door of the drop ship a large cloud of smoke started to plum out, the troops inside coughing as they stepped out, Kurenai carrying a winded solider herself, making sure everyone got of safely, just in case the thing decided to go critical and blow up, something vehicles seemed to do often when around her.
"Everyone alright", he asked the small congregation of troops, most sitting down to catch their breath or take care of their wounds, "Everyone is okay, thankfully, no seriously wound, will be ready to move out in a few minutes". Giving a nod at the conformation Kurenai turned around, making sure her equipment was secure, "I will go on ahead and meet up with Metus and the rest, I'll let them know our ship arrived with its forces intact". Using the force the darkly armored solider started to bound across the dunes, kicking up sand along the way, her figure stating to become visible to those currently gathered, herself being able to feel the presence of the [member="Darth Metus"] himself along with [member="Srina Talon"] , the two seeming to be coordinating with a few others on the armies next move, hopefully she would not be to late.
Funnily enough though it seemed she was not the only person having transportation issues, [member="Sol Damerin"]'s force signature being quite a way away from the battle group, most likely having been in one of the transports that had been shot down. It made her wonder how orders would be relayed to him and other possible stranglers as communication seemed to be on the fritz, the Empire probably jamming coms and other devices, as it seemed though short-range messages were still in effect. Crouching down behind a dune Kurenai put a hand to her ear piece, the briefing that the battle group had moment ago going on air for CIS personal to hear, 'well that is a decent plan, will ahve to inquire on my position in the charge, best get there before the battle starts'.
Pushing to her feet Kurenai finished off her last 200 meters as fast as she could, using her force abilities to increase her speed performing one final massive leap, coming to a loud clucking rest atop of one of the many MTT that where milling around the staging area. The woman giving a brief look around the current forces present before sliding off its side and onto the sand once more, a small dust cloud forming near her feet as boots touched ground once more, "Nothing like a good warm up before battle... this place is as hot as ever though, really should have worn different clothes".
Giving a small brush of her long black blue hair Kurenai walked over to the current commanding staff, giving a short respectful Atrisian bow to the Sith lord and his Echani apprentice, "Forgive me for being late M'lord, my transport experience some difficulty landing, I am now ready and willing to serve at your side for the upcoming battle, or where ever your wish to place me". Giving a quick glace around she noted a new face that did not seem to ring any bells, but had a really distinct feeling she should know who this person was, but no matter how hard Kurenai tried their name was just not coming to mind.
Other Tags: [member="Amaya Cardei"] [member="Jorco Czeku"]
-Summary-
Sort of crash land
Meet up with the others
5th Squadron was among the first wave to arrive into Tatooine, its ship forming an inverted V formation with the INV Inconsequential stationed towards the rear. Its captain stood upon the bridge, hands held behind his back as he surveyed the gargantuan task ahead of them. Even as the rest of the fleet emerged from the void of beyond, 'Inconsequential' and 'Peaceful Intent' had their main batteries charged, fighter squadrons disgorging from their underbellies forming a defensive screen for the capital ships. Watching a Tie-fighter zip past the bridge deck, Esoryuko tapped the ashes off his cigarette and walked back to the situation table.
Staring at the holo-projection on the table, Gabriel had a look of a man who had seen God; placing an arm on his shoulder as he walked past, Tobruk flicked the burnt out cigarette to the trash droid across the room."They brought this much to the fight?" asked the commander incredulously. "How have they not taken the planet already?"
Indeed, Esoryuko had to agree: the holo-map showed Tatooine as a single sphere amidst the enormous blob of purple indicating CIS forces. In comparison, the Empire were two blobs pinching the CIS from two sides, tiny triangles spreading out and meeting contact with its mirroring purple triangles. Force projection had them at 250.8 kilometers worth of Confederate ships against the Imperial's 107.7- barely 42.9 percent.
By all accounts, CIS had naval superiority over Tatooine's orbit.
There was no doubt that the plan was to take it back. He rubbed his chin, as he observed the proceedings. "Gabriel, get 'Boo!' and 'Success' on the horn I want them on bomber-interdiction duty. All guns on one of their Munificent battlecruisers; volley fire, 10 second interval leading with io-"
"Sir, 'Don't Blink' just picked up massive electronic signature spikes from grid Questr Echo five-oh-five towards the rear of our fleet!" Gabriel's head turned to face the excited ensign, his face contorted into an ugly expression of disgust. "How the frakk did our sensors miss out a flanking enemy force?"
The Zabrak shook his head at the commander. "Passive scans didn't show anything sir, but our Interdictors easily picked up a high energy burst from that sector: 'Desirable' has detected intrusion protocols on our fleet commos, very identical to theirs. They're happy to report that they've prevented them from accessing any main channels "
Esoryuko exhaled viciously. "An Interdictor-class?" Jorell nodded affirmatively, his face grim at the severity of the situation. The captain shared a curious look with his commander, eyebrows raised in marked curiosity. Another ensign pipped up from her corner, this time from the scanning section: "Missile signatures, lots of them originating from QE-505! Targeting allied ships-"
"'Don't Blink' reports missile countermeasures already deployed and decoy signatures in place: those vampires won't be hitting anything today." Jorell reported back, hands in a flurry as he switched between active communications channel. Already, 5th squadron's own Interdictors were showing that it wasn't the ship that made the fleet, but the crew.
"Get 'Desirable', I want her to hijack that intrusion protocol and I want that blasted ship squawking no more: mark her position for the rest of the fleet to see." ordered the captain, walking over to the scanning section and leaning over an ensign's console. The 'ghost' fleet was now marked as a high priority alert for nearby ships- a familiar identification tag appeared among the sea of unknowns. Him? Here? Tobruk scratched his hair, amused at the coincidence. Gabriel pored over the table, still trying to make sense of the fleet movements and tracking ship positions."Brooke, sir: the enemy has responded. Seven Mulificent-class ships in position and blocking our Conquerors from targeting their Lucrehulks."
"Jorell! Hail 'Blink', I want total comm black out on their flagship! If they can't talk they can't coordinate. Gabs!" he cried, hoping up the stairs to the main deck.
"Same orders as before: I want all available guns on their Mulificent, volley fire at 30 seconds interval: lead with ion then hammer them to hell with turbolasers!"
"Aye aye sir!" he cried back. In the stark silent contrast to before, the enlisted were now rushing from one station to another, checks and replies being hurled back and forth as 'Inconsequential's' gunnery crew begun coordinating with 'Intent' for firing solutions. The ship rumbled as the batteries spat out its first wave of cyan-blue fire, before the second wave of neon green followed rapidly behind.
The roar of the beast set for a tremendous effect on the crew's morale, though the gunnery crews had little time to cheer along with the rest of the bridge: their fingers tapping away furiously at their consoles, their jobs had only begun as they immediately began to correct their batteries aim. For a combat scenario, Tobruk felt as though the enlisted was handling it particularly well.
Then an ensign slumped face forward into her desk, tears rolling down her cheeks. She breaks into a dry sob.
Another screams and begins to rant nonsense in their seat, pounding his console
A rodian stands, clutching his head in bewilderment and trips over as he tries to run. His immediate neighbours stare with mouths agape, until one of them starts to look around, head on a constant swivel eyes wide in apparent fear.
Even Gabriel clenched the edge of the table, sweat forming on his forehead and trickling down. His heart was racing, vision getting blurry with each blink- was there a point to fighting such a hopeless engagement? "Brooke sir. . ." he said, glancing over his shoulder. Surely the captain would see reason?
"Snap out of it Commander! Chief, ring the corpsmen and restrain the men. Get those unfit out of here." said the captain, smoking away at a cigarette once more unto the observation deck, hands behind his back.
There was a scuffle as the security staff struggled to restrain the rodian, cursing as somebody tried to bite someone: threats were made, chairs were kicked over- it only provoked more to rise up, their voices strained with fear. "Sto-"
"We're all dea-"
"Let me g-"
"What are we doing here!? That must be the whole blasted Confe-"
"DOOMED, I SA-"
"Enough!"
The bridge went silent, eyes fixated on the captain. The man had not bothered to face the rabble, choosing instead to observe the battle from the observatory deck, a mint cigarette burning slowly in his mouth. Was it the taste of battle or the rising threat to authority? For whatever reason Gabriel could not comprehend, the captain stood a head taller than the rest, despite being of average height.
His chin raised, shoulders and back ramrod straight as he balled his hand into a fist behind his back. Tobruk spat out his cigarette butt and for once the droid did not instantly react: through the muted sounds of turbolasers firing liberally, not a sound escaped from anybody's lips and not a soul dared to move.
"What is our ship's name?"
Nobody answered at first, the crew looking at each other bewildered. Gabriel parted his lips open and mumbled, ". . .the INV Inconsequential Difference in Opinion. . .sir."
"What's that commander?"
"The INV Inconsequential Difference in Opinion, sir!" he replied, a little bit more confidently. The captain turned around and faced his crew as lasers flashed behind his back. The aged face seemed just that bit more angry than stern as green flashed across the deck. "Inconsequential Difference in Opinion! We are facing the enemy! Our opinions are inconsequential to the Confederacy!"
"Whether we appear the victors or not is inconse-bloody-quential!" he blasted out with a commanding voice, sending chills down Gabriel's spine. "What is not inconsequential is our actions; our adherence to our job in the face of overwhelming odds." he paused, slowly staring into the eyes of every crew who hadn't already looked away. "When fear grips at your heart and everything screams at you to run; listen here everybody because I'm only going to say this once: YOU TELL THAT VOICE TO FRAKK OFF!" Everybody in the room jumped back, shocked at the man's outrage.
This wasn't the same man who had a kind word for everybody- wasn't the same man who spoke in a fatherly voice. As his heavy breathing filled the room in a fear worse than what had initially touched their hearts, his next words planted seeds of hope. "We! Are men and women of the Empire! Where we come from: Inconsequential! How many ships the enemy throws at us: Inconsequential! What is NOT inconsequential, what is NOT a matter of indifference is how many force-be-damned ships we take down with us! FEAR IS!"
"INCONSEQUENTIAL!" cried the crew, though there was a scattering of unsure voices.
"DEATH IS!"
"INCONSEQUENTIAL!" yelled the bridge, one or two voices out of unison.
"Jorell, open channel broadcast on the enemy fleet, I want them to hear our resolve!" ordered the captain, all eyes latched onto him hungrily as he paced like a wild animal on the deck. His eyes were full of energy, and his face bore the same manic expression he wore on the event that made him the Empire's black sheep.
"Channel open sir!" barked the communications ensign, grinning from ear to ear. Gabriel flashed him a quick thumbs up, heart beating for a different reason as Tobruk lead the bridge one more time to the ears of the enemy.
"We are men and women of the Empire! Hear our voice in the face of fear: Our deaths bring no meaning to this cruel world, but this pales in comparison to your shambles of a Confederacy! MEN AND WOMEN OF THE INV INCONSEQUENTIAL, WHAT ARE THEY!?"
"INCONSEQUENTIAL! INCONSEQUENTIAL! INCONSEQUENTIAL!" roared the ship as the engines flared and the cannons drummed out a terrible punishment to behold.
Action Summary
-
Exited hyperspace as part of [member="Ephraim Tarkin"] 's first wave. Deployed as inverted V formation, squadron flagship at the rear and flanked by Boo! and Success by Design -Detected [member="Aedan Miles"] position by tracing massive electronic spikes in a sector. -'Don't Blink' deploys anti-missile counter measures and baits the rest away with decoy signatures. -'Desirable Consequences' begins counter-hack operation on [member="Aedan Miles"] EWAR frigate, preventing access into any main communication channels of the Empire. -'Don't Blink' targets the 'Subjugator' and attempts to prevent any communication signals from the flagship, whether incoming or outgoing. -'Inconsequential' and 'Peaceful Intent' begins long range volley fire, leading with ion cannons first then turbolasers on the closest of [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] 's Munificent-class cruiser. -Successfully restores morale of 'Inconsequential' after Phobis Device threatened to throw crew into madness. -Broadcasts inspiring speech on open channel across CIS fleet.
Objective: Damage enemy base
Location: Above enemy base
Allies: CIS
Enemy: GE
Jorco and his team of K-Wings in the air began to speed down toward the enemy base. Leaving 10 of the 20 K-Wings back with the landing party to cover them and act as back up. To be honest even ten K-wings could seem like overkill when taking out a single base. 1 could probably level an entire city block and more with how many armaments were on it. But Jorco wasn't looking to leave behind much when he was done through. Speeding over the desert they could see the base over the horizon. All of them moving at top speed as they flew in close to the ground. Then, they engaged.
It was almost like a blur, the mix of anti-air fire shooting past Savoh's cockpit, the fact that two of the ships were downed before they could even drop a single bomb. As soon as he was over the base he was flying around, trying to avoid laser fire shooting up at them. "This is K1, K2 and 5 are down, over." The comms spoke. To the Rodian it seemed like a dogfight without any other enemy aircraft.
"This is K8, were going into to bust the their fortifa-" From the corner of his eye Jorco saw one of the other K-Wings get shot down. After what felt like forever or no time at all, Jorco had an AA turret in his sights. Without hesitation he fired upon it, fire and sparks shooting out with each quick volley from his laser cannons. After that he quickly pulled up and went back to dodging enemy lasers.
Arrived at GE base
Taken casualties
Quickly attacking enemy fortifications before the land units arrive.
War was upon the galaxy. The CIS, a coalition of independent governments ruled by a Sith Lord, quickly launched an offensive against Tatooine, following the retreat of the Galactic Empire's forces at Dagobah. Orin licked his lips and smirked, entertaining the notion that there were ulterior motives regarding their relationship with the Galactic Alliance, how a faction which openly outlaws and targets Sith could put aside one of their chief fundamental doctrines to welcome the support of a government ruled by a Sith Lord. Survival did these things to a person, and at a larger scale, to a nation. In order to survive, one must do whatever it took.
The First Order's relationship with the Galactic Empire though, was a little more ironclad. Originally rivals, even enemies at one point, the two imperial nations which had so much in common would put aside their petty differences to eliminate their combined enemies. Initially the Silver Jedi, the crosshairs had once again moved to the First Order's neighbors, the Galactic Alliance. Despite a myriad of ongoing offensives, Commander Valk had been assigned to lead a contingent of light cruisers and frigates to offer combat support to the Galactic Empire's fleet over Tatooine.
"Update, nav?", Valk asked impatiently, glaring at the officer from his command throne.
"The fleet will be jumping out of hyperspace momentarily."
Orin smirked and nodded. Soon, he would have action. Battles in space were less involved than those on the ground, but they were more refined. He doubted the excitement would match his time on Kaeshana though, but he took solace in that the losses would likely not match it either.
"Jumping out of hyperspace on my mark. Three... two... one... mark."
With the last spoken word of the navigation officer, the ship lurched to a slow. From the viewports on the bridge, fleets were already engaged. Lasers flying, missiles soaring, ships exploding. It was a glorious sight, if not horrific. Much to his surprise though, the ships they were closest to were emblazoned with the logo of the CIS. They had flown right into enemy lines. The ships exploding? His own, colliding at hyperspeed into the more colossal ships of the enemy fleet. The smaller ships would no doubt be lost with little damage done to the enemy beyond damage to their shields, but the cruisers would do a likely do a little more. More than half of his cruiser line lost to collision with enemy ships. The navigation officer would have hell to pay for his error.
In this chaos though, opportunity. Orin growled as he gave his next command.
"Disburse the fleet. All cruisers descend and make way to the Empire's side, escort frigates follow. All other frigates, harass the enemy ships and wither down their shields. Launch all fighters to counter the enemy."
The small size paired with the speed and mobility of the frigates would likely serve as ample harassment. Big targets were easy to hit, and with so many of them, it was going to be a field day. For them though? It'd be extremely difficult to hit the smaller ships as they swerved throughout enemy ships. Fighter complements would provide defense in the event frigates were unable to defend themselves, but traditionally, they've served as decent anti-fighter ships.
Orin's ship, the FIV Vermilion, descended with his cruisers. Full engines ahead, he smirked savagely.
Anya looked to her sister and gently pulled her away from other ears before she spoke
thank the force, I haven't seen you in so long. How have you been? what's going on?
She said in a more excited voice before she calmed down, she hadn't seen her sister in what nearly a year? So much had happened with anya she only wondered just what happened with her sister! Taking a glance around she hugged her quickly then let go
but what are you doing here? I thought you left the Empire a long time ago sis, nevermind....im sure the force has a reason to bring you here.
She put a hand to her ear as she started listening to the comms, she frowned a bit and looked towards the sky walking outside...she could hear it the distant sound of artillery fire. She thought for a second as she quickly got comms directly to [member="Adron Malvern"] and spoke in a quick voice
adron eres reports of artys firing likely on our position I advise we get people hunkered down no-
She was cut off, a round struck nearby sending debris and sand up into the air then another as she ran back inside and yelled
GET DOWN! ARTILLERY!
She said as he'll rained down onto the earth the pounding of artillery shaking the ground around her as troops ran to get into something that could count for cover. Explosions rocked all around till anya heard what she only described as a death whistle heading right for them. She instinctively grabbed her sister and covered her as a explosion hit throwing her away...she only hoped her sister was safe....and her husband as well
Objective: Protect ground units and defend control over space
Allies: CIS
Galven’s fleet was on the opposite side of @Qymaen sil Jural’s fleet and saw that they were getting pincered between two Imperial fleets. Acting as fast as he could Galven put all of his fleets on high alert, “All ships swing around to face the opposing fleet. Put our backs to Qymaen’s, same fleet stance. Lucrehulks stay back to protect yourselves; Providence destroyers flank me at the front. Weapons ensign, has the ion pulse cannon charged?”
“Yes sir, just finished charging,”
“Good, get us alongside the fleet and get ready to fire the cannon. Hevesfs 1-6 move to the outsides to support the Recusants in flanking the enemy,” the fleet moved effortlessly, the droids working in perfect harmony with the supporting organic staff. With [member="Kainan Wolfe"]’s fleet giving supporting fire they were quickly on their way into their positions; however, right before the far line was in position another fleet exited hyperspace and collided with the fleet in a large explosion reminiscent of a fireworks display, ending with a huge explosion as an enemy cruiser and Munificent collided, destroying the Munificint. Suddenly the bridge was silent, as all watched the brilliant display, the fire lighting their faces like the warmth of a fire, except this was the destruction of ships, and many lives. Galven quickly regained his composure and yell out, “Commanders, I need damage reports, ships lost, send fighter squadrons over there to harass those ships and get Hevesf’s 1-3 and 7 to use their J-1s.”
“Sir, hevesf’s 1,2 and 7 have been destroyed, along with Munificent 3.”
“Enemy losses?”
“Unknown, we’re not sure how many there was, but it was a significant portion of their fleet.”
“Who is it, another Imperial fleet?”
“Negative, readings are showing them as First Order ships.”
Another faction joins the fray, “What is the damage on our remaining ships?”
“ Recusant’s 1 and 2 received the brunt of the damage,” a young woman recounted, “1 is at 30% shields and has a damaged engine, 2 is at 45% and relatively unscathed otherwise. Munificent 1 took a hit to its left armor wing but all weapons are functional. Providence carrier 1’s hanger has been hit and cannot be used, we lost 10 squadrons of vultures and 4 Tri-fighters.”
“Get Munificent 1 and 2 targeting the heaviest ships as they escape, cruisers and larger ships do not break formation, frigates and fighters are free to attack within half a kilometer of the formation,” the crew started working, a few glancing back at the destruction and fire of the battlefield. Many of them looked afraid, a few hands shaking and tears shed, “Remember people,” Galven said in a soft voice, “we haven’t lost everyone, and as long as we focus and help each other, no other friends have to die today, so relax, we’re all okay.”
Action Summary:
Moved battleline to face fleet opposite Qymaen’s. Was hit by [member="Orin Valk"]’s fleet and subsequently sent ships to take down as many remaining ships as they could before they retreated to safe territory. Started putting Subjugator II perpendicular to rest of fleet to use ion pulse cannon.
Fleet:
Subjugator II battlecruiser (1)
Lucrehulk II battleship (2)
Providence II carrier/destroyer (3)
Recusant II star destroyer (4)
Providence II assault carrier (5)
HMC Light Shipping Cruiser Heavy Cruiser refit (5)
Munificent Cruiser (6)
Hevesf (7)
Tags:
[member="Esoryuko Tobruk"]
[member="Azrik"]
[member="BX-72967"]
[member="Aedan Miles"]
[member="Ephraim Tarkin"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Chūichi Haasa"]
[member="Aram Kalast"]
@anyone else I should have tagged but forgot
As soon as Confederate forces had made it to the ground, Reaper Squadron was in the air. A standard multirole 12 XG-2 Starwings squadron. Their helmets fed them countless information as different reports of the forming battle came through. Those that did not directly affect them were filtered by the integrated imperial communication system.
:: They're coming in like a swarm. :: Reaper Five remarked through the comms.
:: Scared, Five? :: Reapear Three replied with clear snark in his voice.
:: Not one bit, Three. I am ready to die for the Empire in any moment in my life. Are you? :: Five retorted.
:: Silence. Orders are coming through. :: Actual cut them all coldly with his authoritarian voice. :: Confederates are setting up FOB a few clicks from base. Objective is to harass them persistently. Clear? ::
:: Positive, Sir. ::
:: Affirmative. ::
:: Hold on, I am getting bogies on my sensors. :: Atticus, also known as Reaper Four, stated.
:: That's real bogies. :: Six added. :: K-wings, going by what I am seeing on my sensors. ::
:: Now that's a hard hitter. :: Three confirmed.
:: Change of plans, Reapers. Full throttle to those K-wings. :: Actual's commanding voice came through and the objective on everyone's HUDs changed to mimic what he had just said. :: We need to eliminate the airborne threat on our garrison. Conf. arty will wait until we deal with those K-wings. ::
In complete synchronization, the roaring starfighters turned to the side readjusting their course towards the 'school' of K-wings assaulting the garrison. Upon closer range, they would disperse into different chaotic vectors aiming to intercept and eliminate the K-wings.
:: Hang on tight, rookie, and don't get hit. :: Three's words came through directed at Atticus himself. The newest addition to the team.
A cold shiver ran down the young Ensign's spine at the what the man said.
AFFILIATION: C.I.S. LOCATION: Abandoned warehouse, Bestine, Tatooine MISSION: Secure [member="Lyla Quinn"], secure allegiance of [member="Tytos Ardik"] POST COUNT:3
Was that a serious question she'd asked?
Fidelis wasn't one to question his commanding officer's orders. Bend them as needed, break them if absolutely necessary, but by and large Captain Quinn had led her crew well thus far. Even if he'd had the instinct, the former Stormtrooper had no reason to believe that she'd gotten involved in this mess for good reasons. Not reasons he'd agreed with. Not reasons he particularly cared for. But they made sense, and in the end that was all that really mattered. Captain Quinn, unlike the vicious men and women that held rank in the First Order, seemed to genuinely care about her crew. Further, she seemed to genuinely care about people, and - further still - the mission statement of the Confederacy. It didn't matter if her faith had been shaken during this meeting - something in that dossier had obviously set her off - the soldier's loyalty was to her and her crew. Not to the Umbaran. Not to their little criminal enterprise. And absolutely not to the Confederacy of Independent Systems.
If pulling Captain Quinn's bloodied body back to the Areta meant letting this entire mission fail, so be it. Fidelis was not about to debrief her crew as to why he'd failed at the one task he'd been assigned.
There were a slew of tactical questions he'd thought to ask - geography, sniper placement, contingencies for Imperial entanglements, contingencies for their contingencies, evac strategy, and so on - but he held his tongue. As much as he disliked their Umbaran contact, the man at least seemed to have his Sithspit together. Fidelis didn't like to assume, but everyone in the room knew they were playing a high-stakes game. Precautions had to be taken, and if the Umbaran was as old and as assured in the game they played as he appeared, then he must be at least half-good at it.
"No, ma'am," Fidelis said after a longer-than-usual pause, "I'll be where I'm best at."
Location: Mos Eisley, Tatooine Objective: Pursue Task Force Windstorm ([member="BX-25233"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Akabane"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Rapax"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Dalton Kenway"], @whoever else I missed) Allegiance: The Galactic Empire
Esmond snarled at [member="Digam Merith"]'s comment. It seemed he would have to spell out each step for them, at least in his own mind. He glared at Merith and [member="Koenrad Neistov"],
"I have no doubts that the Confederate force north of our positions is fielding an entire division, if not army to protect whatever they are carrying. We are only surveilling them to figure out what they are doing, then try and disable it to the best of our abilities. Two civilian land speeders won't tag too much attention, so as long as we keep our distance. A small fighting vessel will be shot down immediately, because there is no way the Confederates wouldn't be able to detect it. We'll be flying slow and far, just inside electro-binocular range to see whats going on. Even then there is a chance they will detect us, so we'll be splitting up as well. Now shut your traps, and get in the landspeeders."
His nose flared as he waited for Merith and [member="Anse Tahvo"] to get in their speeder, so that they could leave the stain that was Mos Eisley and get on with their mission.
Location: Main competents of Task Force Unicorn at the flank of the CIS Storm Fleet, Blastoise Cruisers in orbit above enemy and ally locations with Starfighter screen in low orbit
Objective: don't die, resist and defeat the Empire, oh ... don't die
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Enemies: Galactic Empire
And thus it began. And yet as Muad waited for the briefest of moments events began to unfold that caused the entire peaceful setting implode as if a dream that disappears after awakening and drifting from remembrance.
Several hostile fleets arrived as well as a friendly. Using skills honed from years of battle the Mad Man breathed in slowly and felt everything slow as his focus expanded to his responsibilities. Task Force Unicorn.
His glowing eyes followed the two portions of his force while keeping a wary eye on [member="Aram Kalast"] and his fleet that were still at long range distance. He did not wish to engage and begin the battle. It wasn't that he feared death or that he was inexperienced but rather if he could spare his force from the conflict and save the inevitable deaths of his people that were the end result of war, he would. But he wouldn't shirk his responsibilities nor would he balk at giving orders that would send his forces into harms way.
As [member="Ephraim Tarkin"] arrived with his force Muad spared some of his attention from the silent standoff he was currently engaged in. The fleet began attacking yhe other CIS and just as he turned away he noticed a small contingent of Imperial ships headed toward Tatooine. Eyes narrowed as he nodded in the direction of Lieutenant Ames.
"Open the channel to the Captains of the Blastoise Cruisers. Cease firing on the Imp's hypervelocity canons on the ground. You have a hostile force moving toward coordinates that will give them a line of sight of some our ground forces. Engage and destroy them. You have superior fire power and armor as well as training and spirit. Hit those carriers before their starfighters launch."
Nodding once more the commander of Task Force Unicorn spoke to Lieutenant Ames.
"Order three squadrons of E-25s and nine squadrons of Dread fighters to return for a star fighter screen for the Cruisers."
As he finished speaking the proximity klaxon sounded and another Imperial fleet appeared under the command of [member="Chūichi Haasa"] which drew Muad's attention immediately. From their arrival into the fray if they had begun firing immediately Muad's force would not have had time to react. Thankfully with their commander listening to their forces on Tatooine first, then Admiral Tarkin afterwards, the commander of Task Force Unicorn had a narrow window to react. A snap of his fingers at the comm officer as he stepped forward.
"Open the channel to the Gambler's Fate and our force. Captain Sven, copy our maneuver. Place yourself between that fleet and our support craft. Reinforce those shields. Get us target acquisition and share the telemetry. On Captain Sven's mark nest carriers and starfighters fire a staggered volley."
The destroyer began moving before Muad had finished speaking. Just as it slid into position, portside facing the enemy fleet and using a combination of sensors and visual coordinates to relay targeting acquisition, the Imperials fired intending to obliterate the Facade carriers.
A frown was etched on Muad's face as he watched the Gambler's Fate take the brunt of attack. Shields held until the power of the attack made them falter allowing several barrages tear into the armored ship with explosive results. But even as he watched he heard Captain Sven over their Task Force frequency.
"Fire in staggered volleys."
A wave of two hundred and eighty eight concussion missiles lanced out in coordinated and simultaneous attack from the starfighters popping just above the horizon of the destroyer. A second later another volley lanced toward the imperial fleet. Three hundred and twenty proton torpedos fired. Between Task Force Unicorn and the other CIS fleets the four nest carriers fired their first volley of eighty missiles directed to the side of the same Imperial force.
During the attack Captain Sven ordered the Gambler's Fate to rotate so , once the maneuver was complete, their undamaged starboard side would be facing the enemy.
Fleet Actions:
x16 Blastoise cruisers orient toward the task force sent by Admiral Tarkin to engage the ground forces from orbit .
144 starfighters called from low orbit to join the Blastoise Cruisers.
Acknowledgment of new imperial fleet that was a direct threat.
The Gambler's Fate places herself between herself and the suppprt ships while transferring auxilary power to shields and acquiring targeting data through a combination of sensors and visual.
The Gambler's Fate takes fire and damage.
Captain Sven gives the order for starfighters and nest carriers to fire in concert in two staggered volleys into the enemy fleet.
Commanding Officer: General "Ser" @Aya Clarke of the "Iron Crusade"
Wearing: Knightly Armor (in sig)
Carrying: Knightly Sword, Gifted Lightsaber (both in sig)
Allegiance: CIS
Currently: On the Surface of Tattooine (Imperial Garrison)
Post: 4
Travel was, slow. AAT's and MTT's were ungodly slow sometimes it felt, at least with the adrenaline of war running through the Knight's veins and under the twin suns. Time was like a slow crawl, and despite being prepared for it, the shelling she had expected never came. That, was almost worse than what she had anticipated. The biggest surprise was when a communication from the Vicelord came over the coms, giving her the order to charge ahead. The order she was already intending to follow, but it was nice to be given the official go ahead. It meant she was technically not the one to call the shot. And it meant she had reinforcements eventually, which considering she had lost a fifth her fighting force, was appreciated.
So, rather calmly, she sat incorrectly atop the AAT at the head of her army, until she saw artillery at last, artillery not aimed at her, but the outpost itself. Metus. The Vicelord really didn't want his General to get cut down did he? She smiled and shook her head, as the army of transports continued their journey underneath the thrum of Metus's long range artillery. Right up until finally, finally her droid assistant alerted her to their proximity to the Garrison. At this point, she ordered the army to halt, and got out and off the tank. The hatch sealed shut, as the metal armored figure began to shout her orders (though the droids heard her perfectly fine, it was for her own benefit really).
"Begin unloading the transports and preparing to march, we are now at ground zero. Standard formation, by the books. Frontline AAT's begin the siege of the garrison, see if we can't get ourselves a big enough door to walk in through. If not, we'll just knock until they let us in. Keep the firing line scattered, we've no idea what defenses they have installed. Let's get this going people, it's rude to keep a lady waiting."
With that, the first row of tanks, roughly two hundred or so, began to move into firing positions. The tank commanders began to fan out somewhat, before leveling their primary blaster cannons, the really big ones on top, at the Garrison's walled front they could see. With the loud thrum, the blasts of energy would sail off, to impact on dirt, stone, wall, whatever the 'shell' managed to find in its path first. Certainly blaster fire like this wasn't enough to knock down a wall of this size instantaneously, but Aya expected a retaliation. Best to poke the sleeping dragon from its slumber, see what it had to offer.
Without losing the most valuable of sticks.
Meanwhile, behind the legions of tanks, the MTT's began the lengthy process of unloading their troops. Racks upon racks of battledroids began to be spread out, and slowly maneuvered into position. The sheer scope was magnitudes higher than what an organic army might muster, though of course they were more, fragile. Especially now, as retalitory fire would be quite capable of destroying quite a few droids, especially higher caliber weaponry. Still, their assumption the Lucrehulks would be optimal targets, rather than the droids, would be a useful tool for Aya. Why would the CIS of today repeat their ancient counter part's mistakes?
The woman reached to unsheath her sword, pausing for a moment, before grabbing the lightsaber hilt resting beside it. She did not activate it, but she would when she began the charge proper. And to charge, she'd need at least some measure of an entry point anyways. Plus, she wanted to physically lead the charge, which meant at least trying to make a hole first. Trying.
Action Summary:
Arrived at the Garrison commanded by Adron Malvern
Begun unloading all 112,000 B1 Mk 2 droids and 12,000 B2 Mk 2 droids
Moved the first 200 AAT's into siege formation
Begun the assault by firing the main blaster cannons in the Garrison's general direction
Allies: Confederacy and allies
Enemies: Galactic Empire and allies
Objective: Secure Task Force Windstorm on Sandcrawler and secure a Sand Skiff
Location: North of Mos Eisley
Relevant NPCs: Shadow Furiae
Not five minutes into her time on the surface of the desert planet, free from the protection of the landing craft against the blistering heat and kicked up sand, and the young brunette was already fed up with the conditions. Resisting the urge to gag at the subsequent lack of moisture in the air as she drew a breath, she made her way towards the sandcrawler and began to prep it for the rest of the teams entry. A task that would have gone otherwise smooth if she didn't hear the chime of the youngest member of their team pipe in with a complaint about their method of transportation.
Rolling her eyes, continuing away at the panel before her, the agent took a step back and turned to see not only the child but her special ops team making their way over. Giving a nod to one of the Shadow Furies she allowed them to pass her, go to work on the panel and grant her the time to deal with the small moment of technical clarity on the part of [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. She wasn't sure she wanted to intimidate the young girl, but she wasn't overly happy with the inference that the girl was making, she only knew that the mission needed tending and questions weren't going to move the sandcrawler.
"Is that all?" The woman asked as she stopped just feet from the girl, making sure to tilt her head and give her the most apathetic look she could muster. Which wasn't overly difficult for someone who'd learned that it was often better to keep others at arms length than to try and bring them into arms length at ease. "Because my team's already prepared the sandcrawler and the sooner you're on it the sooner I can get my team to their part in this mission.
And, besides, they'd have to knock us into an pitted inferno for something like that to be a problem," she continued as she addressed the matter at hand and watched as her operatives began to make their way towards a set of sand skiffs stored some yards away. Tilting her head a bit, glancing over at [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], the brunette turned and followed the Furiae mid sentence. "And I don't see that happening because it's my job to make sure it doesn't. So, let me do my job."
Her voice silencing with the conclusion of her thought, the agitation with curiosity passed like a flow of wind, the brunette quietly went back to her work. She needed only to prep the sand skiff and take up position, a report coming through her comms from Fury Two that the C-9979 support of Windstorm having landed stealing her attention momentarily a moderate concern. The mission was going smoothly, the resources were in place and only her mission needed to graduate to it's next step. And so, making her way towards where the Furiae began to set up, the brunette eyed the deploying MTTs and AATs with a small smirk.
If there was a phase two, she was ready for it to commence.
Feeling the solid ground beneath her feet was not the relief it should have been. Breathable air, real, and dry, was not a comfort. Her body remained in a constant state of alertness as she fell back on her training from Larinkáoi and slowly but surely she settled into the proper frame of mind. She hadn’t liked that [member="Aryn Teth"] had chosen not to dead drop to Tatooine with them. She liked it even less, when psychic echoes of a vicious explosion raked her senses through hot coals, despite the fact that she was quite some distance from the Supreme Commander.
Concern and anger flowed in equal amounts. Were it not for the anchoring bond that she shared with her Master she feared, most embarrassingly, that she might have forgotten her objective. This was why she kept Aryn Teth, for the most part, in a controlled space in her mind. His Force Bond was manipulative and consuming. And he got hurt far too often. It liked letting her know. Briefly, in her mind's eye, she saw a metal door blow away from its ruined lodgings.
‘Did you forget the part where I ordered you not to get hurt?’
The small tirade that she might have gone on was ended abruptly when the Darth Metus called both for her and his dark-haired progeny. There was still something off about [member="Anastasia Verd"] but the pale apprentice could not dwell on it now. Instead, her footsteps matched her Master’s in the sand, and she nodded to the orders that he gave her. Even if he couldn’t see it, he would know it.
Setting her comm to the proper, however, tweaked frequency, she reached out first to [member="Mythos"] and [member="The Matador"]. [member="Kainan Wolfe"] was also of the Ancient Eye but his mission involved General Grievous versus the inner workings of the ground assault. “This is Talon with the Confederacy. We have landed, intact, and will soon require your strength. We made it to the designated staging area and our forces are unloading as we speak. How far out are you from our position?”
The white-haired woman then sought out [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] and [member="Katria Vekarr"]. Windstorm should have been less of a target than Hurricane. It was smaller, less disruptive, and should seem entirely inconsequential considering artillery they had aimed at the Imperial Garrison. She could only hope that their re-entry went smoother than theirs had but they were landing initially a little closer to Mos Eisley. It was a calculated risk. “Windstorm—Update? Any casualties? Are you on the move?”
Srina did not need to ask Aryn Teth what happened. She could feel it. “Master…The Supreme Commander suffered heavy losses. He is making his way toward us with his remaining men.”, she paused, silvery eyes searching for something, before the information she needed made itself known. “He has at least two U-Wings left with full squads.”
The Sith Apprentice kept her comm lines clear as she kept pace with Darth Metus. They would be moving out, sooner than later, and she didn’t want to cause any delay. There were a few things that she needed to see to, such as, making sure that their message was spliced across all local channels on Tatooine, in every city, and every hovel. It hadn’t been easy, or cheap, but eventually, every available transmission would be converted to the following missive. The people that lived in the dust bowl would no doubt be panicking, frightened, or even angered by the sight of such an army. The Confederacy was not on Tatooine to punish its citizens or to call for an end to their way of life. They had one goal.
‘Citizens of Tatooine…The Confederacy of Independent Systems has arrived to deal with the Empire and the Empire alone. For your own safety, we urge you to remain inside your homes, and out of the line of fire. Your moisture farms, cantinas, and businesses are not our goal. We have no wish to harm any denizen of this planet, however, be fully aware, that we intend to purge the Imperial presence from this world. Please. Stay inside.’
Once she was certain the message was looping Srina could return her focus to the encounter to come. She turned, only to find her path blocked, by the large Basilisk War Droid that her Master seemed to be so fond of. Darth Metus got in the saddle and Srina could feel a soft sense of nostalgia. Did he really miss the war this much? The threat of battle? The possibility of death? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. The closer the countdown came the more she began looking forward to it. Echani embraced combat. Fully.
Metus called for her, in his own way, and the Apprentice found herself using the Force to boost her jump so she could sit behind him. The droid-beast never slowed its pace and the young woman merely flowed into place, a pale hand momentarily on her Masters' shoulder, while she pulled her hood down so she could see. The heat was negligible. Instead, she looked around for [member="Kilia"], having lost sight of her.
“Kilia, stay close.”, she ordered the young Echani, nodding her head to the nearby personnel carriers. She also turned to address [member="Amaya Cardei"] for the first time, unintentionally forgetting, that it was Metus who knew her. Their Force Bond was just as strong, if not stronger, than the one she shared with Aryn Teth. “If you have any other reinforcements waiting in the wings Miss Cardei…Feel free to bring them in. Our Droid General would put any additional ships to good use.”
It was then, that she could feel the words rolling around Darth Metus’ mind, long before they were made real. Her eyes lingered on all of the Hailfire Droids, the J-1’s, and even the Defoliator Tanks…It was humbling to be in the presence of such an extreme artillery line. When the Sith Lord called for the true war to begin, with a single word, the response of their might was something she felt deep in her bones. For a moment, she could only see red, only hear her pulse beating in her ears.
Amidst all of the sudden chaos and destruction, she received an incoming transmission. She touched the HUD that was built into her gauntlet and the words of their Droid General began to run through her ears. Starfall Protocol. It had been her Master’s idea, a play on words, when compared with her armor, aptly named Starfire Protocol. The General had approved. A brief question, silent, and mostly unnecessary passed between herself and the dreadlocked man.
Her response to General Grievous was sharp, cold, and written in stone. There was no room for hesitation or indecision. The Confederacy had come for the Empire. It was time to show it. “General Jurai…”, she trailed off, knowing that she was one of the few to address him as such, through varying levels of trial and error.
“Do what must be done.”
[member="Kurenai Yumi"] made their way toward both herself and Metus, introducing herself with a formal bow, despite the fact that they had met before. Srina did not question the formality and nodded her head, dismissing any sort of delay, considering the circumstances. “I would say that you’re just in time.”
She did not mention her battle placement, because the Vicelord already had thoughts on it, and it would probably feel more official coming from him. Some people didn’t seem to care who gave them orders. Some really, really didn’t want to hear it from a pale-haired Echani a sixteenth of their age.
Her attention once again turned toward [member="Amaya Cardei"] as she briefly inspected the sable-skinned beauty. Darth Metus had given the young woman specific orders, easily, and the familiarity she felt could only mean that she was one of his. If it weren’t for the fact that @General Aya Clarke was on the front line, ready, and launching her first volley of attacks at Imperial walls she might have laughed. Darth Metus had so many children. It was hard to keep track.
Perhaps this one would not hate her.
The dust from their initial attack had not yet cleared. She couldn’t quite see around the much taller Vicelord to see what sort of damage had been done. The Droid Army of the Confederacy would roll over the Outpost like a wave in a tsunami. She could see it, if she focused her Sight, and she knew, in that moment, that regardless of the pain or sacrifice of the day…They could not lose. They could not go backward—No matter the cost.
The vessel shook, she held out, waiting for it to calm and calm it did, the landing craft coming into a smooth landing despite the loses others around it did suffer. She remained still in her seat, opening her eyes after a moment and hooking her safety before stepping up, noticing Metus give motion for her to follow, and she moved towards him, keeping behind it to give her gear one final inspection as Dad interacted with the droid, her ear on the conversation through her face freined disinterest towards details. Isn't that what young people did? Her granddaughter Amelia tended to during her training.
Efficiency was low and information was low on the entirety of the team. Still, the droids listed several Mobius crafts that had successfully landed. The clone noted the information given before she heard the name she was given in this life and followed, exiting the craft after the Vicelord, her shoes hitting into the sand. He was already giving orders, his first to his apprentice. Her dark eyes looked back to the pale haired Echani, her expression blank before she looked back to the Metus again, her name called. Her task would be to ensure Mobius four being unloaded quickly as possible. Seven canons in total needed to be operational. The commend center, anti-aircraft capabilities, she recalled. "Yes, sir," the clone noted with her clean voice, her response becoming of a soldier and not a daughter, the accent in it was forever noticable. Lord Metus wouldn't know, he had never heard the voice of his daughter but Naha'va lived with the child's mind alongside her own, knew the whimpering child soft voice, somehow similiar to that of her Mother, when she could only listen and not respond.
She moved as soon as her response was given, a task commanded. Mobius Four was in close enough range to their own that her journey to it was brief. The droids within the craft had already began their task when she reached them. "Vicelord requires the Command Center operational," she commanded as she'd joined them, observing their progression. They were quick at preparing the Command Center, however, they were slightly behind on planet defendors. "You there!" She snapped after a moment at one of the droids overseeing, drawing his attention. The droid moved closer to her. "Begin preparing the Planet Defenders," she instructed. "All seven are to be ready as soon as possible." The droid stood in attention. "Roger, roger," the droid replied plainly and moved back, calling on additional droids and a team of them began preparing the droid defenders.
As Naha'va focused on the task given, she kept her senses and eyes on alert to what was happening around her though she continued to monitor droid progression. She would turn only when she heard the sign of fired weaponry, causing her to turn, observing the launched fire towards the Mos Eisley's garisson, dark eyes watching the fire progressed towards its destination. She would turn though, to ensure the droids were working as fast as they possibly could, setting up their own weapons. One canon after the other set up, they progressed according to their own capabilities. Though Naha'va had far more experience with stormtroopers than droids, based on what she could see, the canons would be ready for the second wave.
Through her communication device, voices came in and out, Anastasia recognizing some of them but more so the chatter that occured, giving her an idea of who was doing what, spotting another of their troops well on the way towards attack formation. The once Hand of the Emperor, wished to go forth herself, to make use of her lightsaber rather than ensuring the useful metalics were doing their job yet a command was a command, and she would see her task completed.
Sand rose as the result of the attack, particles of it spreading. Lifting her hood over her long hair, Anastasi sought to shield her eyes before it would return into her face, turning her body away from it. "Continue working," she barked at the droids. Sand had no business of stopping their work. Above her, Naha'va suspected the amongst the fleets was most likely beginning though she didn't focus too much. She'd witness enough that the Vicelord exerted loyalty among his men and women.
Inside her, an entirely different battle raged as the child inside her mind roared with her growing strength. The demon had marked her at her foolish decision to travel to Ryloth and for the first time since her creation beginning to fight the ghost that had possessed her. Yet, she was not strong enough yet...
Side: Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force windstorm (Team 3) Enemies: The Galactic Empire & Allies Post: 4
It wasn't Kat who answered her never ceasing barrage of questions. Instead, it was one of the droids. Unit BX-25233. Scherezade carefully stored his unit number into her mind, having a sense of feeling that she was going to have a reason to be able to repeat it again in the not too distant future.
The droid claimed that landing closer would've probably caused their shuttles to be blown out of the sky. And while Scherezade hadn't specifically been trained in Sithiness, the information that crowded her mind was the result of several generations of such. Whereas the Confederacy apparently (well not apparently, but obviously) wanted to conserve as many lives as possible, most of her ancestors would've easily thickened their army to make sure it included as many disposable lives as possible, let the enemy focus on them, and then sneak in whoever was important enough while others weren't noticing.
This, here, it was... Different. It was strange. She might've been young, but her sense of self preservation hinted at the fact that it was unwise to mention such tactics to any of those present right now. She could discuss this later, in private, with Kat. And for the first time since she was un-pebbled, Scherezade took small comfort in being the only one of her line to be awake. No doubt most of her family would've looked down at her willing participation in this operation. She didn't know yet whether there would be much of this in the future. Sooner or later, her possible baths would intertwine and she'd have to make a choice.
But for now, this was a good place to practice. Providing, of course, that the so called enemy, the Galactic Empire, didn't kill her off first. Though really, if you thought about it, they had no reason to unless it was as part of collateral damage. No one knew who she was, that she was here, or well... Anything. Anonymity was one of the stronger cards her present held.
The droid also mentioned the odds of being cooked alive inside the sandcrawler was low. To that, she could agree. But "low" and "nonexistent" odds weren't quite the same thing. And everyone knew that things with odds of 1 in a million tended to happen 9 out of 10 times anyway.
After the droid, it was a woman she didn't know. Come to think of it, she didn't know most of the people here. At least, not by name. Uniforms and such helped in sorting out the hierarchies of those present, but then again... Not entirely. Still, she could gather by the tone that her questions had been unwelcome.
When the woman finished speaking, Scherezade's cheeks turned red.
She wasn't actually stopping anyone from doing their job, regardless of what their job was. She'd asked the person who brought her here a bunch of questions and others decided to answer for her. That was entirely not the same thing. If she'd actually wanted to bother jobs being done, there were much better ways to go about it than ask logical questions. And much more efficient ways too.
For now though, she said nothing. What was there to say? But if they were going to fry up inside that big ugly metal cage, she was totally going to enter the "I told you so" stance on everything.
Until the though, she'd just go with the flow. Not like taking a U-turn back to Ryloth was an option anyway.
Side:Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force Windstorm(Team 3) | [member="Rapax"] | [member="Darth Saethus"] | [member="Akabane"] | [member="Chalim Vern"] | [member="Amadi the Banished"] | [member="Riggs"] | [member="BX-25233"] Enemies: The Galactic Empire | [member="Esmond Morcus"] | [member="Digam Merith"] | [member="Koenrad Neistov"] | [member="Anse Tahvo"]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gE8yAZnxDVQ
The Force user known as [member="Daxton Bane"] provided a holo-view of the planet and their targeted area specifically, and then the Witch [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] had her say followed by the solider [member="Katria Vekarr"] – and before Dalton knew it, they had touched down onto the orange sand planet.
Dalton had been to Tatooine twice before passing through the Outer Rim and didn’t loathe it as others did due to the harsh, bland conditions, the lack of civilisation and a general feeling that life was as dry and devoid as the krayt dragon bones in the Dune Sea. It had character and it had history, much like his home world of Corellia, and that meant the planet was worth something and certainly worth liberating from the Imperial scum.
If Corellia was a casualty of war, then what would stop super-powers like the Empire doing the same thing to other planets if they suddenly got itchy trigger fingers?
The air was close and dry, but the sky was tranquil blue framed by the sandy landscape. Small shuttles could be seen leaving the atmosphere in the distance from outposts such as Mos Espa and Mos Eisley which was their destination, or rather the outskirts.
While the women vied for who knew the operation and locale better, including a rather flushed [member="Scherezade deWinter"] standing a little red-faced, Dalton kept one hand on his hilt and one on his rifle and walked past them, a forced smile on his face to counter their otherwise tense exchange.
"Shall we get a move on? We don’t want our Hut to dry out in the heat do we?"
Dalton walked through the sand gently blowing around their feet.
"May I remind you we are now sitting ducks and I suggest you take your safety’s off. If the Empire knows we’re here, we’re going to have company very soon."
Enemies: Confederacy of Independent Systems @Qymaen sil Jural | [member="Kainan Wolfe"] | [member="Darth Metus"] Allies and Members of the Confederacy
[header]
They had called for the Empire to lay down their arms, to lower their weapons and allow the Confederacy the freedom to sweep over them like rodents to a corpse, unfortunately for the CIS the Empire was no Silver Jedi, they were not a Republic or the Imperial Remnants that the galaxy had become so used to, no they were an Empire and it was not in their doctrine to stand down.
“Cease their communication.” Aram muttered, sick of hearing it already as his men continued their work on their monitors, scanning numbers, measuring angles and assuring that when the battle was joined it would be in their favour. “Have we got numbers yet?”
“No sir, we are still getting in the calculations, but they outnumber us.” He paused, tottering slightly on his heel. “Considerably. You never know, with their present numbers it may actually be a fair fight.” It was a small jab, yet a jab none the less. Clearly the Imperial’s didn’t think much of the rabble amassed at their doorstep.
“Let me answer their call.” Aram straightened his back, knowing that a miniature version of his torso would be projected to whatever ship had already tried to stand them down. It was time to look into the eyes of the being who thought himself worthy enough to question the rights of the true standing government in the reach. “This is Vice Admiral Kalast of the Galactic Empire. I am afraid your request for our surrender is to be declined. You have entered sovereign Imperial territory with an armada and the full intent to bring war to the people of this planet who we have pledged to defend under the divine right of Imperial Citizens.” He did not break his visage, a face that was full of fierce determination. “We will defend this planet until the very stars run red with your blood, we will offer no option of surrender, we will follow you into the very heart of your corrupt and benevolent territory and when we stand at the very end I want you to know it was this very moment that caused it all. Your poor choice, your intent of war. You have blood on your hands, I intend to make sure it mixes with your own.” With that he cut off comms and would answer no hails from anything but his own, the CIS had made their bed, now they had to sleep in it.
“Issue the command. Advance the fleet.” Aram had fire in his eyes. “Have the Conquerers begin hitting those command ships, have everything else plough straight into their lines, pick a ship and get to where we can broadside them into oblivion.”
“Surely a pickett would be more suited sir?” Deesat hesitated slightly but already the stars had began to move as the orders were given. “Stop them from reinforcing the planetary assault.”
“Let Tarkin have his moment.” Aram said simply. “With the numbers they have they will find themselves hard pressed to draw clean avenues of fire against us if our entire attack is based within their own theatre of war. Now advance and open fire.”
The fleet surged forward, closing the lines fast as green laser began to beat against the CIS fleets massed before them.
Action Summary
Conqueror Class have taken target of Lucrehulk-Class Vessels, currently shielded on opposite flank. Imperial Fleet has began to advance with every intention on engaging point blank, within the CIS deployment. All craft have began to open fire at closing CIS fleet. No target in particular chosen.
Fleet
1x Allegiance IV-Class Heavy Star Destroyer 2000m INV Pruveil
Location: Outskirts of GE Outpost. Near Mos-Eisley
Objective: Long Range Marksmanship set up With [member="The Matador"] and Wampa
Allies: CIS and Buddies
Enemies: GE and buddies
"Pawpaw Specter, this is Alpha Wolf. I'm reassigning four TIE Reaper squadrons to your command. One of them has been instructed to perform reconnaissance flights around Mos Eisley. The enemy base should be located shortly,"
That was all Mythos needed down here, eyes in the sky to feed the CARGS systems and the Bellator Battlenet, once those birds were in his control Mythos was comfortable moving forward becoming the flanking element of the CIS main attack force. Mythos moved his small amount of forces to become the flank element above the mountains as the battle now raged and he was able to move more freely without the threat of imperial surveillance. One look at the matador and a smile at his comment let him know that it was show time... "I am smaller, that makes me faster too"
While the Matador was able to sling around the wampa with little to no effort Mythos took a considerable effort to bring his weapon to the vehicle and make command to become their point element. Using the speed now granted by his vehicles and the natural cover of the mountainous regions and vast desert landscape Mythos hit the gas and power to ride hard to where enemy presence was most concentrated. Normally the leader of a strike force, the commander, the captain or admiral was never point element... was never the tip of the spear. Mythos worked differently, he lead from the front. His vehicle was lead vehicle in the formation, if it could be called a formation being as how spread out and awkward the battle positions were set. His communication ear piece rang with a familiar voice.
Srina Talon said:
“This is Talon with the Confederacy. We have landed, intact, and will soon require your strength. We made it to the designated staging area and our forces are unloading as we speak. How far out are you from our position?”
One click and he responded. "Very Very far Talon, I'm sending you our grid location, we will provide flanking strength. I will call in for reinforcements from the ancient eye once we have secured a landing zone and get those anti air batteries out. Linking CARGS display and recon Intel. Over"
One flick of his wrist device as the off roader swerved to bank again behind a mountain crop and Sirina would get a full feed of the reconnaissance Mythos and the Matador had been tracing this whole time and access to the aerial reconnaissance that [member="Kainan Wolfe"] sent from the Invictus. When he had finished with the info link the vehicle and the support fireteams set up an apex behind the mountain, a rocky cliff in the middle of no where several miles from anything worth shooting. "Alright, let's get up there"
The mission now was to climb the small mountain and set up the two sniper rifles as the rest of the force set up their forces to begin taking out enemies of high priority that they may see in the battlefield.
Location: Imperial Outpost Objective: Defend the Imperial Outpost Allegiance: The Galactic Empire
It was all quiet on the western front. Was. The garrison of stormtroopers had stood uneasy at their fortifications, awaiting the Confederate attack. Rumors had been spread, stories had been shared, and prayers had been spoken. But when the unmistakable screech of missiles and artillery shells, all talking ceased, and was replaced by the screams of wounded. Detta did his best to hit the ground, and stay under the cover of his fortification, despite only being a wedged barricade. Stormtroopers flew through the air as they were lifted by the blasts of artillery, fortifications and battlements were torn and warped by the immense heat of their strikes, and officers shouting for stormtroopers to man their posts. Detta unhitched his sandtrooper back pack and threw it to the side, knowing that it would be no help to him in this battle situation. He looked over to Jax and the other trooper defending their fortification, it seemed they had survived the initial bombardment, but it didn't seem like it was going to stop. Detta glanced over the barricade to see if the Confederates in sight.
On the horizon, crossing the sand dudes towards Mos Eisley, marched a grand army of droids, no doubt ten times the size of the minuscule garrison. Over a hundred hover tanks loomed closer to the garrison, however small they might have seemed to Detta's naked eye. After a moment of looking, he ducked down under once more as teh artillery barrage continued, lucky he did not lose his head over it. Mentally, Detta prepared himself, for a battle he feared would be the end of him.
