Diplomacy Valor on Vulpter (High Republic and the Alliance)

[Republic Engineering]

Vulpter Surface // Commercial District // Hpaq Sewer System
Sigma Squad - Half-Strength - Republic Commandos
Unit Commander: Lieutenant Gideon Raith.​

​

The Commando offered nothing more than the briefest gesture of acknowledgement, as the green-skinned woman gave voice to her gratitude. He would’ve responded, saying you’re welcome or anytime, but it just wasn’t in his character. There was also a moment when the man thought of making a joke at the woman’s expense, boasting that he only saved her from embarrassment. She could’ve spilled over the crates and would’ve likely landed face-first into the ever-deepening stream of wastewater. If that happened? Well, suffice to say, Gala wouldn’t have been happy. She seemed like the type to spit expletives at the top of her lungs whenever something went wrong.

But, Gideon kept that all to himself. It wouldn’t have bode well for their unit cohesion if he teased his newfound comrade. Dynamo would’ve been the one to follow through with such jests, however. His sense of humour was unfathomable, unlike their Commander - who seemingly remained stoic and taciturn regardless of the situation. In many ways, Null - as he was colloquially known to his Squadmates - was nothing but the sturdy foundation that formed the core of Sigma Squad.

Yet, as Dynamo once mentioned - that stoicism and the stern aura he gave off made him boring. He wouldn’t make many friends with that sombre disposition, and in a way - that’s how Gideon liked it. Fewer chances of forming a connection to someone that might die within moments of touching down in an active warzone, leaving nothing but a depthless void behind that could never be filled.

Drawing his thoughts back into the present, the Commando brushed past Gala after offering the gesture of acknowledgement. With his rifle shouldered, Gideon advanced slowly through the liquid pooling around his armoured boots. His eyes, and weapon, darted towards every alcove that they approached, before suddenly snapping forward. Out of the corner of his eye, He saw their synthetic companion raised a clenched, metallic fist - signalling the unit to stop in their tracks.

Without hesitation, the Commando complied - taking a knee.​

His eyes once again scanned their surroundings, double-checking to make sure there weren't any assailants hidden away in the shadows. As the Droid made mention of a hostile presence being confirmed, only to offer the alternative of this disturbance being civilians instead, Gideon let out an inaudible sigh. There was a part of him that wanted to lecture the Droid on military protocol, but that would’ve been a waste of time. Perhaps, when this mission was complete, they’d have words. Until then, however, their ad-hoc unit had a job to do.

“We don’t need to get close,” Gideon whispered through their personal comms-channel in response to Gala's words. “I have just the thing for this.”

Twisting his torso about, the Commando dove into one of the many pouches that were affixed to his armoured bulk. Within seconds, the man withdrew a small visor and offered it to the green-skinned blades-woman by tapping a folded armature against the back of her hand - which currently hovered above a scabbard lashed to her waist.

“Put these on.”

Without waiting for Gala to accept his offer, Gideon began patching the visor into his Helmet’s feed - which would allow her to see a portion of what the Commando saw. As the connection rune shimmered green, the man proceeded to extend a digital invitation to both Dak and Hatchet as well. When they accepted - the point of view would shift from Gideon’s perspective to a smaller one that lingered over the man’s shoulder. The Commando’s recon probe roused itself from its mechanical hibernation and slowly rose from whence it slumbered. After it was freed from artificial bondage, the ebony-hewn droid skirted forward on whispering repulsors - transmitting it’s feed all the while.

It cycled through several vision filters until settling on one that picked up infrared radiation, which in turn revealed the supposed hostile presence ahead.

Seven, squat creatures were moving crates about in order to create a makeshift barricade - one that would offer them the salvation of cover, whilst leaving their enemies out in the open. The droid couldn’t make out the finer details of their attire, but Gideon assumed that they were wearing civilian clothing with ramshackle armour fitted over top. Normally, that would’ve given him pause - essentially confirming the alternative option that Dak brought up mere moments ago. However, when he saw the outline of holstered weapons, and rifles leaning against their makeshift barricade - Gideon smiled.

“Hostile presence confirmed,” the man reiterated. “Seven Insurgents, heavily armed and armoured, barricading the central junction. They’ll spot us if we advance, and we don’t have time to flank them. Advising direct engagement.”

“Once we go loud,” Gideon added. “We’ll lose our element of surprise and need to move quickly. Who knows what else is down here, or if these Curs will be missed.”

| Dak | Gala Geert | P Placeholder 018 |​

 

[Spirit of Hope]

Across Hpaq, the combined forces of the High Republic and Core Alliance have prepared for every contingency, or so they thought! Saber-Squadron has come under fire as ships pilfered by the Nationalist Vulptereen Front ascend to engage them. Other ships have set out to attack the dropships escorting the wounded from the sites of their earlier bombings. The headquarter's of the radicals have become an open battlefield as Captain Climshedis's men have opened fire on the enemy, pinning them down to ensure they are unable to push further in the city. Within the structure, Jedi Knights Ryv Karis and Amos Orno have freed a group of hostages, learning of a most heinous plan put into action by the radicals. Fortunately, Sigma and their allies are en route to rescue the Corellian Senator and High Admiral alike.

​

Vulpter
Viper Tower, Hpaq

"Saber-Squadron, I've got two bogeys on me, and I can't shake em!" Hawk called out to the trio of starfighter pilots engaged above the city. The enemy ships came upon the pilot and his wounded cargo shortly after leaving the ground. Halfway across the city sat the nearest medical facility, too far for him to make under the rain of enemy fire. He cursed as his ship jolted and shook violently in the air. Peering back from the cockpit, he noted the jagged scrap of metal that was his ship's left-wing and struggled against the quaking machine. As Hawk wrestled with the stick, he craned his neck from left to right until he spotted a sufficiently empty lot a few blocks over.​

​

"This is Hawk; my bird's going down. I repeat we are going down," Hawk reported over the alliance frequency. "I've got a ship full of wounded, and I won't be able to get em where they need to go. I'm putting down in sector 4C," he veered the ship westward, doing his best to steer it in its rapid descent, barely scraping past the tip of a building. He activated the ship's distress beacon as it began to level out. It flew parallel with the street below for a hundred meters before finally slamming it down. The hull skidded forward, the sound of screeching metal echoing through the vacant lot as it tore through the asphalt beneath. Hawk kept his hands on the stick, directing its path up until an ion torpedo burst against the hull and sent it careening on its side into a building.​

​

"Hawk? Hawk! Do you read me? This is Captain Climshedis, we are sending help your way," Hawk's helmet buzzed softly as each word echoed within. The pilot lay unmoving, his head turned an awkward angle from the impact, body limp, and strewn about the cockpit.​

​

"Hawk?" Climshedis sought an answer from the pilot, cursing as nothing came back. "Anyone have eyes on where he went down?" ​

​

"No, sir, but I'm picking up a distress beacon in 4C. I can't investigate; it looks like their fighters are moving to engage the rest of us," Duke replied.​

​

"Get the wounded where they need to go," Climshedis ordered. "Outrider, hostile starfighters have engaged our ships carrying civilian personnel. My men are keeping them busy down here, and I've dispatched a squadron to investigate our downed escort, but we have no means of dealing with their fighters. Priority number one is protecting those ships. I repeat, protect the wounded."​

​

Captain Climshedis turned his attention to the battleground before him. Most of the civilians evacuated, leaving the streets barren. Blaster fire ripped through the air, as Alliance troopers laid down suppressing fire and pinned the nationalists where they hid. The captain considered his options before activating his commlink once more.​

​

"Ryv, this is Climshedis, come back to me."​

​

"I'm here, boss," Ryv responded, eyes locking with Amos's. "What can I do for you?"​

​

"Starfighter's have engaged the dropships, and their ground forces have opened fire on our own. You and Amos are clear to infiltrate the building and search for the High Admiral and Senator."​

​

Stealthy Boys: Republic Engineering | Gala Geert | Dak
Damsels in Distress: Maou | Cassius Callaesar
Air Support: Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Steve Holt
The Jedi Order: Ryv | Amos Orno
Open to all High Republic and Core Alliance writers interested!​

 

[Ryv]

"Uh, about that," Ryv began, sheepishly rubbing at his face. "I saw a group of radicals dragging some folks into a separate suite. I convinced Amos to follow me, and we engaged them. We took em down no problem, and we have the hostages free. They informed us of another group held in the same location as a series of armed bombs. Neither Amos or I can disarm bombs. What would you recommend, Captain?" Ryv inquired while pulling out his holodevice. With the click of a button, the building's schematics popped up before the two Jedi.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Captain Climshedis stated. "The team we have planetside is combing the city for other bombs. Plus, the headquarters is a battleground. You'll need to rescue the other hostages and evacuate before the bombs go off."

"Copy that. Can you provide evac on the southwestern landing platform located on the roof?" Ryv asked as he studied the blueprints of the building.

"I'll muster something," the Captain answered curtly. "Good luck."

Ryv looked to Amos with a frown as the commlink deactivated. The kiffar shifted his attention back to the hologram as he looked for an escape route for their recent acquisitions. Fortunately, the northern windows led to a fire escape. He moved towards the window before pushing it open, his attention turning back to the group looking helplessly between the two Jedi.

"Listen, the fighting is happening at the entrance to your building. Amos and I aren't gonna be able to lead you guys out of here. This fire escape leads to an alley at the base of the building you can use to flee across the street. I recommend putting as much distance between this building and you as possible. We're gonna get your friends out of here, but we won't be able to stop the bomb from going off. Just uh," Ryv paused as he looked over the group of terrified vulptereens. None of them could expect such an awful turn of events that laid claim to their place of work and friends. "I need you guys to be brave, okay? As long as you keep your heads down and pay attention, you'll be fine. We have troops holding a defensive perimeter about six blocks out, starting where the corporate district ends."

None of them moved at first, warily looking between the window and themselves. After a moment of stifling silence, the female translator shuffled over to the window. As she passed Amos, she stopped and took his hands.

"Thank you for your help, Master Jedi. We never gave up hope you would come for us," she smiled at the thyrsian, then the kiffar, and climbed out the window. They all followed suit, some offering words of thanks while others gave the duo nods of appreciation. Ryv moved back to Amos and reactivated his holodevice.

"We're here," Ryv stated while pointing at the suite they inhabited. Two red blips in the hologram supported his claim. "We're gonna need to get up here," the Jedi then pointed to the peak of the tower. It appeared to be the last floor before the roof. "I've got my grappling tool, so it shouldn't be an issue. I say we just scale the side of the building, breach one of the windows, and take em by surprise. Cool with you, Amos?"

This time around, the younger Jedi appeared did not rush off into the thick of it. The weight of so many lives rested squarely on their shoulders. His trust in the elder Jedi showed in spades.

Amos Orno ​

 

[Gala Geert]

Vulpter Surface // Commercial District // Hpaq Sewer System
Dak // Republic Engineering ​

Without question, Gala obliged to the Commando extending a piece of equipment to her. She rotated the visor once over in her hands to get a good feel for the accessory, before lifting it to her eyes and fastening it securely. Within seconds, her vision was filled with seven rainbow silhouettes. Their snouts were surprisingly cooler coloured than she'd expected.
It was clear they didn’t have the luxury to discuss options other than what the Republic Commando suggested. With the data shared, they all had the same amount of information and could arrange their attack based on that.

She was going to suggest the Republic Commando's probe offer a distraction to the short guardlings, but realized he may be precious about his equipment. Despite having so much of it.

"Copy that."

She reached up to modify a setting on the side of the visor, squinting forward despite herself. Based on what she was seeing, it looked like the sections between the armour were red in contrast to the black void of the plating. Anything that was covered by bulk didn’t show up as a warm colour.

The multicoloured figures in the distance were short things, probably coming up no higher than her hip. The vulptereens would have to compensate for that, and likely aim with a slight tilt up to make any sort of headshots when attacked. Likewise, the commandos would have to tilt down; which would give them an advantage. And her strikes would have to be a little lower than she was used to.

Gala picked her first target: One of the dastardly crew focused on navigating a hulking crate to stack on the barricade. When he stretched to stack, the Mirialin made a single fluid motion to extend her arm and snap her wrist. A smaller weapon --a dagger -- hurled with deadly precision through the darkness and pierced through the exposed chin (or what she assumed was the chin) of the squat guard who’d had to extend himself to make his reach work. He didn't have time to gasp before the force of the blade's pointed edge penetrated his yellow-ish throat and he dropped to his knees with a gurgle, the crate he’d been navigating quivering and falling on top of him.

Alarmed grumblings and shouts were exchanged among the remaining guards, the sound of them readying their weapons almost louder than their chatter. In the poor lighting, the only way for the Vulptereens to trace the invisible attacker was with their echolocation.

Meanwhile, Gala’s feet pounded to follow the trajectory of her thrown dagger. While her speed didn’t match that of the hurled weapon, her aerodynamics were close. As soon as she’d closed in enough (this visor was a life saver!), she lifted from the swampy ground to place a hand on a crate and leverage herself over -- both feet together to connect with someone on the other side and knock them down. She landed in a crouch over the round-bellied terrorist, both of her blades snapped into her hands and drew together and apart swiftly to decapitate the fellow beneath her. The motion wasn’t quite as speedy as she would have preferred, given the resistance from it’s thick leathery skin built up on it’s throat.

Now the Vulptereens’ attention was split between the intruder on their side of the barricade, and the thundering footsteps of those on the other side.

Their panic levels rose, coordination the first thing to go.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Vulpter // Atmosphere // x-01 Skyalker Class X-Wing
Maynard Treicolt // Steve Holt // Spirit of Hope ​

“I kind of pity those pilots.” Loske lamented backward to her astromech, who’d also flown in the Gala MkII fighter. They were nimble ships, but terrible shields and over extending in speed typically caused them to groan. It was a benefit to have been afforded the opportunity to experience the inner workings of the now enemy vessel.

Then the fighters took down a civilian transport, and her teeth clicked shut into a grit. Saber’s XO quickly remediated her former sentiment: “Nevermind.” The commands of Clamshedis to Outrider were broadcast through the entire squadron. The orders were as clear as the bogies in the atmosphere. And as dire as the grounded civilian transport. What was the point? What was the purpose of intercepting innocent people?

She shook her head, and juked to the right. The red flashing of her targeting coms stopped, now that she was out of range of the opposing fighter’s missile.

“The fighters are yours, Outrider. You need the kill count.” The smirk on her lips suffused into the statement, even over the disruptive interpretation of comms. He’d better incinerate those rotten two who’d taken down the transport. Repulsive.

“Holt, on me. Let’s engage this Corvette.” The rest of the Sabers were self-organizing, having experience with one another’s workflow and flight patterns over several mission. Holt was new, and Loske’d flown with him once before, so she felt some level of responsibility to pair up.

Green lasers from the corvette lanced up at her on the approach. It wasn’t subtle - the Corvette’d be able to detect the X-Wings intention from several klicks away. Frank made a basic astromech whining noise, but Loske dropped the fighter below the line of fire, or just above it, constantly forcing the gunners to adjust their sights up or down or side to side.

The range-to-target indicator on her console scrolled meters off by the hundreds as she lead the dive toward the largest dot on her radar.

One kilometer out from the target, Loske pulled her throttle back and revered the engines thrust. The Corvette’s laser batteries brought their beams together to burn her from the sky. The X-Wing dropped like a rock. The Corvette stopped shooting for a moment -- perhaps thinking it had success in gunning the oncoming fighter from the sky as it entered virtual free fall. It was the opening she needed to click her repulsor lift engines. Their whine drowned out Frank’s horrified bellow from the back, a screech which immediately turned into scolding. She was beneath the craft now, giving Steve space to arc in from the side, front, or wherever. The guns couldn’t track down a multi-pronged attack. She pulled the trigger on her flight stick, a single ion torpedo jetted out at the assault vehicle. The coruscating blue energy projectile pierced the bottom of the multi-angled corvette; melting through the immediate shield at this close range.

MOVE IT! Frank called from his helpless seat in the back, and Loske juked hard to the right to scale along bottom to resurface at the nose of the craft and twist back over it.

 

[Dak]

Vulpter // Hpaq // Sewer System
Gala Geert // Republic Engineering // P Placeholder 018
Maynard Treicolt // Steve Holt // Ryv ​

The probe's feed simply became one of many inputs the droid was simultaneously paying attention to. He scans over the images being presented by the scout, quickly noting the weapons and armour himself before the Lieutenant makes mention of them. Despite their adversaries receiving an early warning, the squad had managed to maintain an element of surprise in their engagement. Whether by luck or through the idiocy of their adversaries, it was an advantage the droid was thankful to have.

<<Affirmative,>> Dak acknowledges, cutting the feed to Gideon's droid. His primary sensor suite's movement indicators suddenly alert him as Gala moves for the attack, targeting her blade mid-air and lighting it up its trajectory as it glides silently through the air and in to the throat of the unsuspecting guard. An impressive throw, especially considering the conditions.

As the defenders spring into a reactionary frenzy, Dak rises back to his feet and presses forward into a jog, his carbine locked in a firm grasp. His targeting protocols kick into full gear, scanning his visual horizon for any feasible openings as the insurgents brace behind the cover of their barricade. When one finally pops up in an attempt to stop the Mirialan's advance, the barrel of the DAC's sabrewasp aligns in a snap movement and the target is quickly put down with a double-tap of the trigger.

Each micro-explosion from the projectiles light up the darkness, adding to the disorientation of the significantly ill-prepared defenders.

<<Covering your advance, Gladio,>> the iron soldier continues his unwavering advanced on the enemy position, even as a heavy return of blaster bolts start to streak by.

 

[Maou]

Kaito reveled in the Vulptereen's final cries for mercy. He was sure that even though they were terrorists they would have shown them much more mercy than he was willing to dole out. He was surprised when the admiral agreed with him, a hint of a smile touching his lips as he raised the blaster to the sputtering barrel-shaped alien. The blaster flashed once, then twice, the light illuminating Kaito's slightly yellowed eyes. He blinked, containing himself again and took in a deep, shaky breath to steady himself and played it off as if the scene had slightly disturbed him. Stepping over to one of the downed guards he kneeled down and plucked a com cylinder from its pocket, turning it around in his hand before grimacing at the blood slicked device. While he didn't speak the language he had briefly studdied the language before coming, hoping to catch at least some of the conversation.

He switched it on, a stream of Vulptereese chatter streaming through. He listened for a moment while he took the extra blaster pack and belt holster from the Vulptereen before standing and nodding in agreement with the Admiral.

"Good idea. They know we're out though. I think I remember there being a com room on the floor below us." He readied his blaster and looked over to the Admiral. "Now let's find us some stairs. Here's hoping we don't run into any more of them on the way," he said before heading off down the hallway at a brisk pace.

Cassius Callaesar

 

[Atsushi Ono]

Amos watched the captives flee through the fire escape before turning his attention to Ryv and the conversation occurring over their ear com. He didn't like it, but they had to do what they had to do. Folding his arms and looking over the holo schematic he frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. Was that really the fastest way up? Blasterfire was starting to sound off from around and within the building. If there was indeed a bomb as their last resort, he had a feeling they were going to use it soon. He nodded reluctantly.

"Let's do it. We need to get to as many people as possible here. If you think that's the fastest way then by the Force let it be so." Moments later the pair were scaling the wall, their Jedi training affording them speed that other spec ops teams could only dream of when climbing up a building for an operation. The skies were ablaze with starfighters and dropships fighting it out against the ragtag airforce the separatists had cobbled together and smoke rose from almost every direction. His heart hurt for the people down below and he hoped this confrontation would be the last they heard from these extremists.

Taking point on the climb, he was nearly at the window when it shattered above them, transparisteel raining down on them in small shards. For a moment the grapple wobbled and his stomach sank when he realized what they were doing. Planting the balls of his feet on the wall and leaning down, the cable gripped tightly in both of his hands, he called on the Force and leaped into the air for the remaining few meters. His lightsaber was in hand in a flash and he swiped at the window, cutting a deep furrow in the wall and bisecting the Vulptereen's arms. He screamed in pain and fell back but not before he'd done what Amos was afraid he'd been trying to do. He'd dislodged the grapple sending it and the rest of the cable falling to the ground.

Reaching out with the force again he brought the grapple back to his hand, but distracted by the stream of blaster fire coming into the windowsill he was crouched on he miscalculated, sending its barbs into his forearm drawing blood and dripping it down below. He shouted in pain but wrapped the cable around and held on for dear life. His face contorted in pain and sweat that he hadn't known was there began pouring down his brow and into his eyes. Through the Force he sent urgency to Ryv, hoping the young Jedi would climb or leap those last few meters so he could let go.

Ryv

 

[Cassius Callaesar]

Cassius gives the Senator a nod and follows suit a few steps behind, glancing behind them every few seconds to cover their backs. The sounds of panicked voices as hurried steps echo from one of the branches behind them, prompting the Admiral to spin on his heels into a backward job with his pistol covering their rear. Fortunately for the two, the doorway to a stairwell would find them before the insurgents pursuing their escape.

Stepping through behind Kaito, Cassius turns to the control panel for the door and fires a single shot into it. The door hisses closed as the power to it fails. "They're far too distracted right now for us to be the only issue they're facing," he pauses, catching his breath as the pain starts to breach his adrenaline "if they were this disorganized we'd never have been captured in the first place. They must be focused on something else too."

He raises the Glie-44 to glance at the small bar of light displaying an ammunition count on the handle -- both the gas cartridge and power pack seemed to still be quite full. "It's entirely possible our forces are on the ground already," he steps over to peer down the center railing, looking for any sign of their captors coming up or down from other levels "that'd certainly explain their silence here."

Taking a hold of the 44 in both hands, Cassius begins to descend the flight of stairs leading them to the level below. As the duo make it the platform halfway between the two floors the door above them bursts. The Admiral spins around, throwing himself into the light cover offered by the railing as a series of squawks and hisses flood in from the level they had escaped.

"Kark, we have to move!" Cassius pops up from the rail, firing several shots up to stop the nationalists in their unimpeded advance. While the insurgents avoid stepping into the line of fire, a small probe droid continues into the open, dodging a near hit with a rapid maneuver. Cassius looks to Kaito and pushes himself out of cover to continue their flee, "Go!"

A fast bolt of green ejects from a light blaster mounted on the bottom of the droid's orb-shaped frame, connecting with the back of the Tepasi's left shoulder. Cassius lets out a loud groan before clenching his jaw to tough through the searing pain. "Son of a rancor," he growls behind closed teeth, reaching the bottom and firing several more shots in an attempt to force the droid to keep moving so that it can't align a shot.

Maou

 

[Ryv]

Ryv scaled the exterior of the building behind Amos, following the more experienced Jedi in silence. He peered down at the world below them and blanched, instantly reminded of the cliffside a group of nationalists kicked him from nearly a year prior. His gaze drifted from the ground to the starfighters racing through the sky, engaged with the vulptureens while trying to escort the dropships ferrying the wounded elsewhere in the city. Explosions flashed above the buildings and rained down debris on the planet below. He couldn't imagine fitting the bill on property damage and other expenses the two governments would have to cover, but it would hopefully be worth it. Wiping the extremist group from Vulpter and surroundings systems could only benefit the core worlds.

Amos's sudden action ripped Ryv's attention from the battle all around them. He watched the Jedi leap up and activate his weapon, slicing their attacker's arms free from his body. Ryv's eyes widened as he braced himself to leap, only to be a split-second too late and begin to fall. As the line went taut with Amos's efforts, Ryv slammed into the side of the building with a heavy grunt. The feeling of urgency washing over the kiffar pressed him forward. He took a deep breath, centering himself within the force, before leaping up. His gloved hand caught the ledge, followed by a second before he threw a leg up and over the side. He rolled further into the room and crawled behind cover as blaster fire rained over his head. Ryv looked to Amos and pulled a desk from an adjacent room. It slid between the thyrsian and the terrorists, covering him.

"Not gonna lie, man. This kinda sucks!" Ryv called out over the din of battle as he tugged his lightsaber from his side. "I'm gonna take these dudes on the left, you get the ones on the right!" he waited for his stalwart ally to ready himself before Ryv vaulted the smoking sofa he'd used to protect himself. The Blade of Ruusan snapped to life at his command. As a sense of calm washed over the Jedi Knight, he held the weapon closed to his body and utilized it to parry aside incoming fire. Nearing the first of them, he stepped to the side, putting the alien between him and the rest of his attackers, before sending the creature flying towards the closest of them via a wave of telekinetic energy. The trio of nationalists went down in a jumble. One's head crashed into a chair while another took the first's blaster to the mouth. The last attempted to stand, meeting Ryv's boot before dropping into unconsciousness.

"Alright, that's three," Ryv muttered while turning away another shot. His mind latched onto a chair, and with the force's aid, he sent it whipping through the air at another of them. The fourth dropped, leaving Ryv's half handled. He raced towards the hostages and pointed towards the set of stairs leading up to the landing pad. "Go!" he shouted at them and turned to check on Amos.

Amos Orno​

 

[Steve Holt]

Ship: sf-58-thunderbird-class-star-fighter
Missile supply: Vindicator_XM-15_"brilliant"_missile
Location: Among Saber Squadron
Objective: Take down enemy corvette
Known Relevant Allies Spirit of Hope , Maynard Treicolt , Loske Treicolt

Steve heard Maynard Treicolt 's comment on the ships, and especially personalized ones. "Heh, pretty much how I feel about my arm. I mean...first one was fine and all, but you should see the looks you get when you bend an elbow backwards to throw something before they realize it's not organic." he responded with a smile. More then once Holt's own arm had offered him a great deal of entertainment. He'd gotten used to the irregularities of its movements, he was the one who created them afterall. It wasn't meant to be like an organic arm, it was meant to be superior. It was just the same way as some people, like Maynard, were with their ships.

His smile drifted a little as he noticed the txs-vandal-class-corvette that Maynard mentioned. And the fighters with it. The fighters themselves were good, but if it was going to be a space battle that was dangerous, not unexpected. Maynard gave orders and Loske Treicolt called for him to join her in taking on the corvette. He gave a slightly smile, pressing his legs against the floorboard, not that it was necessary. He went to work quickly making everything prepped for battle. Sure he'd already done it, but you just can't be too careful sometimes. Especially with a ship like this.

He took after her, his ship was slower than the Skywalkers, but it was definitely still fast and plenty maneuverable. He didn't like the idea of killing, but in moments like this, there was a certain excitement of flying. At least, he chose to believe it was excitement and not fear. Steve watched Loske attract additional attention from the corvette, drawing fire and pulling a manuver putting her under the craft. So he'd take his advantage from that, aiming to fly where their point defense weapons would have to focus either on her or him, although he did do so from further to the side than her, so that the ship couldn't just try and keep their focus on one spot. Then began firing the solor ionization cannons at the ships Point Defense Lasers. His weapons were weaker than typical weapons of the same design, but they would get past shields and were aimed at the He then turned again, making sure the target was on, and then releasing a Vindicator_XM-15_"brilliant"_missile. 1 of four sent out, aimed to hit the generator. If they could take that down, then all they'd need to do is disable the weapons on one side, and they could lay waste to the ship at their leisure. However, he doubted one missile could take down the generator on its own. He'd probably have to go back in for another run. But he could pull off for now, the missiles were harder to stop than normal ones, having such an intelligent system. Unfortunately, the same worked in reverse. The corvette had them available as well, and fighters. Who naturally were coming for the fighters as well.

Steve took full advantage of his arm in moments like these. The metallic limb moving in ways a normal could not let him manipulate multiple parts of his ships systems at a much faster rate than normal, allowing him to take more evasive maneuvers as he started working to evade any oncoming weapons, or fire at others with the ion cannons to get past shields, or the rapid fire laser cannon.

 

[Atsushi Ono]

Amos didn't have to wait to confirm anything. As soon as Ryv had entered the fray he pushed himself the rest of the way through the windowsill, his boots crunching on broken transparisteel. The grapple was dug in deep and pain continued to radiate out of his arm. There wasn't time to worry about getting it out and it wasn't anything a few hours in bacta and a healing trance wouldn't fix, but it left his left arm essentially useless. Or did it? Batting blaster bolts away with one hand he called on all of his training in Soresu as he moved fluidly from reciting each step of the basic form with his body, he let the Force guide his movements.

When he was close enough he lashed out with his left arm, gripping the cable with the Force. It moved like a serpent through the air, wrapping around confused a Vulptereen's blaster arms and sending him crashing into the opposite wall with a tug from Amos. Dumbfounded the Vulptereens let out a stream of curses and they turned their fire on the fleeing civilians. Grunting loudly Amos leaped, spinning low to the ground to catch the bolts, sending them back to their respective blasters. They exploded with a sizzling pop one by one before the cable snaked its way around the remaining three stout aliens. In one quick motion Amos severed his connection to the cable with his lightsaber and used the Force to cinch the cable tightly around them.

Amos hissed as he depressed the release button on the grapple, releasing its durasteel teeth from the meat of his forearm. Blood splattered to the floor along with the hook as it clattered to the ground. He brought his left hand up, giving his hand a few experimental flexes, opening and closing his big hand into a fist several times.

"Clear," he grunted. "Let's get to the top of this building."

Ryv

 

[Republic Engineering]

Vulpter Surface // Commercial District // Hpaq Sewer System
Sigma Squad - Half-Strength - Republic Commandos
Unit Commander: Lieutenant Gideon Raith.​

​

As the connection with the Recon Droid was severed, Gideon’s vision returned to his surroundings. His extensive training made the sudden disorientation, and deprivation of colour slightly less severe. He felt nothing more than a minor ache behind his eyes when his visor swapped back to its low-light tactical settings - rather than leaving him momentarily dazed. When the pain faded, and his eyes adjusted, the Commando caught wind of Gala surging forth into the darkness. Although her darkened form vanished from his visuals, the man could still see a pale green outline moving in the distance.

Her movements were swift, and before he could even blink, one of their Vulptereen assailants were taken down by an expertly thrown dagger. Frankly, Gideon was impressed. Not only had Gala approached unseen, but she was already thinning the proverbial herd before the rest of the ad-hoc unit arrived. She earned that moment of unspoken praise, especially with every swirling flash of silver and crimson.

The second of their number to advance was the named automaton. Dak was utterly unphased by the wastewater lapping against his metallic flesh and shouldered his rifle with machined precision. Once his sensors identified a target peeking out of cover, the Droid discharged two plasmatic rounds in quick succession - killing the would-be assailant with relative ease. The unstable nature of the particle beam saw to the Vulptereen’s demise, no doubt coating their meagre surroundings in heaps of steaming viscera and gore.

In response to the swift and sudden culling of their squat comrades, the Insurgents rallied with all the alacrity they could muster. Several of the remaining Vulptereen snatched their weapons or drew daggers in the hopes of staving off their newfound foes. Some were lucky to get shots off, as the encroaching darkness was banished in sudden flashes of coalesced crimson and ochre lightning. The rapid change in ambient lighting would’ve disoriented anyone caught without a polarizing visor, and that was made all the more evident as the Insurgents sprayed plasmatic bolts all over with little accuracy. There were times that shots would’ve connected, but they went wild as another of their number fired nearby- causing a moment of temporary blindness.

It was Chaos.​

Yet, the ad-hoc team advanced in an orderly fashion - swiftly dispatching the disgruntled natives with militant precision. Gideon and Hatchet covered Dak’s rear as the automaton advanced. Their rifles were shouldered, and in unison, unleashed their plasmatic payload, striking down two exposed Insurgents as they sought to withdraw behind cover. Hatchet broke away from his Commanding Officer as they reached the improvised barricade, vaulting over the stacked crates, and began dispatching targets of opportunity found in an adjacent tunnel to their immediate left.

Gideon, on the other hand, continued forward. He vaulted over the stacked crates like his subordinate but kept moving forward. Bodies dropped all about him, either taken out by the shimmering steel of Gala’s blades, or the plasmatic fury of Dak’s weapon. Those that weren’t subject to the ferocity of his newfound companions faced the measured wroth of the Republic Commando. His finger feathered the trigger each time its barrel connected with the central mass of their opposition, before snapping to another victim. He didn’t pause to think of the consequences. Nor did he stop to ponder the philosophy of murdering supposedly innocent creatures - who simply wanted their collective voice to be heard.

He had people to save, and these wretches were in his way.​

As the total of Insurgents in their immediate vicinity dwindled down to none, Gideon found himself clutching the last of their number. He discarded his primary weapon, allowing it to connect with the magnetized plating of his thigh. His gauntleted fingers dug deep into the Vulptereen’s covered flesh. Plates of armour bent under the Commando’s deadly embrace, before delving into the cloth and skin underneath. There were grunts of pain that soon turned into cries of agony as the pressure steadily built. It was over in a matter of seconds. As the Insurgent was lifted from the sewer floor, Gideon’s knuckle-bound vibroblade shot forward - piercing the creature’s chest, and it’s rapidly-beating heart thereafter.

The kill was clean, and the Commando held onto the squat creature as it was soon embraced by the cold hand of death. After the Vulpter stopped squirming, Gideon laid the creature down beside a fallen comrade - releasing the rent breastplate as he did so.

Hatchet’s voice filled his ears at the moment. :: Did you have to grab that one? ::

Gideon’s eyes shot towards his subordinate, shrouded by the visor obscuring his vision from the outside. :: I didn’t have a shot. He got too close. Had to finish him off with the blade. ::

The fellow Commando grunted, before nodding. It was likely that Hatchet would’ve done the same if their positions switched, but as the man only saw the aftermath… there was a lingering moment of suspicion that tainted his mind. He had seen his Commander’s brutality firsthand on many occasions, but this seemed almost… personal on some level. Hatchet couldn’t place it. His commanding officer seemed off ever since their mission on Alderaan failed. Perhaps that notion of failure was eating away at the Lieutenant? He couldn’t tell. The blasted karker was too taciturn for his liking.

With all hostiles swiftly dispatched, Gideon shook his gauntlet free of the cloying scent and viscera before turning to the shrouded portal above them.

:: Looks like this is our exit. :: ​

| Gala Geert | Dak | P Placeholder 018 |​

 

[Ryv]

"Right on," Ryv nodded as he turned from Amos and moved towards the room's exit. He stopped beside it and waved the Vulptureens through. "C'mon, let's go, guys!" he continued to herd them forward before nodding Amos through first. The injured Jedi Knight took priority to the relatively healthy kiffar. He chased up and after the Thyrsian as they cleared the two flights of stairs and broke onto the roof. All around them, starfighters engaged one another above the city, while below them, the tail firefight raged on. From their position above it all, Ryv couldn't quite tell who was winning the engagement, but he trusted the Alliance-Republic forces could handle a group of trigger-happy terrorists even on their worst day. He shifted his attention from the battle and looked towards the group of now-freed hostages.

Before Ryv or Amos could speak up to assure them everything would be fine, one of Captin Climshedis's dropships rose from below the building's roof and hovered close to the edge. Its ramp descended, so it propped itself along the railing of the roof. Ryv could only grimace as he could feel the panic rising within Vulptureens. With so much going on all around them, it was only natural for them to handle it as such. He pushed forward and motioned towards the ramp with a wave. They picked up his meaning, with one stepping up to ascend the sloped surface. A relief trooper reached out, took the Vulptureen's hand, and tugged them inside the ship. One by one, each of them was pulled aboard before only Ryv and Amos stood atop the roof.

Ryv looked back towards the stairs, longing to run back into the building and keep searching. He knew better than that. With so little information left, racing back in there would only make things more difficult. With a faint sigh, the kiffar turned and moved up the ramp and boarded the ship. He lifted his commlink to his lips, meeting Amos's gaze.

"Climshedis, Ryv reporting in," Ryv began, pausing almost immediately.

"Swift filled me in on the evac situation. Good to see you two made it out safe and sound. I'm having Swift drop you off at the forward command post before delivering the hostages to a medical center."

"Understood, sir," Ryv replied. "Any news on Senator Kyoshi or High Admiral Cassius?"

"Unfortunately, no. Sigma's still dark. I am awaiting confirmation on their success before sending in an extraction team," Climshedis abruptly stopped speaking as a muffled voice called out to him. "I will have to cut this conversation short. Good work out there, gentleman. We are lucky to have the Jedi Order's help."

The transmission cut out after the short thanks. Ryv looked towards Amos and smiled.

"Good work out there, man. I haven't met many Jedi as competent as you are."

Amos Orno ​

 

[Dak]

Vulpter // Hpaq // Sewer System
Gala Geert // Republic Engineering
Maynard Treicolt // Steve Holt // Ryv ​

<<All targets eliminated,>> Dak confirms as his receptors widen from their combat focus. He turns and offers the small team a nod for their combined effort, then follows the Lieutenant's line of sight to the exit above them <<According to the distance and direction I've recorded, there is no doubt that this exit is directly below Viper Tower.>>

His arm swivels back to magnetically lock his carbine to his backplate, freeing the droid's hands to scale the ladder. <<Our actions here have likely been reported. We must move quickly if we are to rescue the Senator and High Admiral,>> soft clangs of metal accompany each step and grip of the ladder as Dak begins to scale it <<should we become bogged down, I suggest we split the team to keep some of us moving. We cannot afford to lose our momentum.>>

The security-protocol hybrid's sensors are quick to discern some details of what awaited them on the other side before reaching to unlatch the maintenance hatch in their way. Heavy vibrations and mostly ambient sounds -- likely generators and other machinery; an industrial level of the tower, perhaps even waste disposal given their current position. However, between the thick duracrete flooring and dense noise pollution, there was no hope of detecting any enemy positions above them.

<<Advancing,>> Dak announces, turning the heavy latch and pushing the metal panel out of its embedded position as quietly and gracefully as possible. An unavoidable heavy clunk still echoes from their position as it pops from its place, allowing Dak to shuffle it to the side with enough space for him to squeeze his rigid frame through.

The droid's receptors dim to be only faint glows, in an attempt to hide better in the darkness surrounding them. Fortunately, there were no signs of an active defensive position in sight, and his other sensory inputs were finding nothing of value either. Keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings as the team catches up, he speaks again via their closed channel <<This building is quite large and I don't think they have the personnel to defend it adequately. I suspect their defenses will be focused around key locations: entrances, vital systems, supply rooms and of course, their prisoners. If we are careful we may be able to avoid most engagements.>>

----------
​

As predicted, resistance had been minimal in the lower levels of the building. With focus on the perceived threat mounting outside and the news of the prisoners escaping their captivity, the Vulptereen terrorists were far too distracted to look inward at the threat emerging from the sewers below. Their desperate last stand was quickly deteriorating under their organization's own ineptitude.

Stepping around a bend, the droid snaps his weapon to the sight of a corpse outside of a doorway in the hall. A quick analysis from a distance reveals two blaster marks as the cause of death. <<There's something up ahead,>> Dak presses forward toward the scene <<someone else has been here.>>

Approaching the squat body the interior of the room next to it becomes visible, revealing the two chairs and pile of the chains that had previously bound their captives together <<This must be where they were kept. It appears they've managed to escape.>>

 

[Maou]

Kaito stopped when the admiral shouted in pain, his eyes wide with practiced fear and concern.

"Admiral!" But he didn't wait or have to be told twice to move. When the admiral turned around to fire potshots at the droid Kaito reached out with the Force and flicked his fingers subtly, sending the droid directly into the path of the admiral's blaster bolt. The droid exploded in a brilliant display of sparks leaving Kaito with a smirk. The door leading out of the stairwell hissed open, luckily with no terrorists on the other side. Taking one more look just to make sure and reaching out with the Force to try and sense any beings he moved on when he was satisfied. The hallway led directly to the communications room which was empty. A looming sense of danger and doom persisted though.

Pushing the feeling to the side he set the blaster on the console and began tapping at the keys trying to get hold of a GA or Republic signal.

"This is Senator Kiyoshi of Corellia," he said, "Admiral Callaesar has taken a hit from a blaster, we need help! 25th floor, communications room!"

Dak Loske Treicolt Republic Engineering Cassius Callaesar

 

[Gala Geert]

Vulpter Surface // Commercial District // Vulpter Tower
Dak // Republic Engineering //--> Maou // Cassius Callaesar
​

​

Running a cloth against the edge of her blade, Gala peered over the droid's shoulder at the empty space ahead of them. Coloured impressed, her lips twitched with a smirk. If they'd spent less time trying to understand how to go about the mission, they may have been closer to heroes now.

No matter. A voice filled her ears, speaking out from the projector in her suit's neckline. The voice belonged to Senator Kiyoshi who quickly confirmed that they had indeed broken free of the flash dance chairs and were now in the communications room. And the dear admiral was wounded!

"They move fast." She murmured almost enviously, tucking the drenched cloth to a clip on her hip. "Senator, secure and hold your position. We're en route to you."

One of us should secure and cover the exit. Dak you good to take point on that again?" She tilted her head in his direction while they approached the stairway opening. It wound around and around. This was going to be a lot of flights. "I like Gideon's floating ball of heat sensors for finding out what's ahead of us.

They're close."