We Come For Booty (Dominion Dom of Chiloon Rift and Irn)

[Jessica Med-Beq]

OOC: By common accord between the Primeval and Dominion administrations, post #321 is to be considered non-canon. Nevertheless this post assumes that the Primeval actions in post #321 are still taken.

Location: Irnfall
Objective: Defend the city
Gear: Lightsaber, armor
Allies: Dominion [member="Grace Darkson"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Enemies: Primeval

With the enemy firing a heavy barrage of anti-aircraft missile fire at maximum range in a stern chase, whereby said maximum will be the lowest, it forced the bombers to enter evasive maneuvers, shifting all power to the engines, and delay their landing for a while until the enemy missiles' fuel reserves run out. In low atmosphere, it took about 5-7 km to do so in a stern chase, double that for head-on targets. The enemy brilliant missiles fired by the Primeval may have excellent tracking, but tracking can only do so much when confronted against the limits of the warheads' own fuel reserves; once they ran out of fuel, they explode in cornfields among the surrounding countryside, causing limited damage. But whereas the enemy was using the power plant's emergency shutdown process as a decoy in the previous volley, leveling everything in a two-block radius of the power plant, it finally located the squadron of missile-launching T3-Bs and, in a fiery display of explosions, an entire squadron of missile-launching tanks was destroyed while receiving a volley of 40 enemy tanks firing all they have, which also leveled everything within one city block of the squadron. Of course, the cover used by the missile troopers and the snipers brought in tow, as well as their escorting (above-ground!) infantry close to the enemy tank convoy was also reduced to molten slag, killing everyone that used it; they might have scored a few hits before they died, supported by friendly tanks firing at the convoy from 1-2 km away due to the long ranges necessary for firing from a hull-down position in a flat terrain. And yet, the enemy took out the communications tower while taking multiple hits: its molten remains bursts every which way, leaving holes in the city hall's roof.

"Communications equipment is offline, general" the communications officer reports.

"That's not good: I will have to rely on Force-communication"

Jessica knew that Force-communication would be unreliable because she knew most soldiers would not be able to make sense of the Force-messages. I guess, all units are now on their own, she thought. But Jessica could sense a disturbance in the Force while another enemy tank aiming at the comms tower at the top of the city hall used its rear anti-personnel turret to hit a soldier in a manhole at such short range that one may as well talk about a contact shot. The disturbance in the Force was caused by a chain reaction that was initiated by the enemy antipersonnel railgun hitting a grenade, detonating it and thereafter causing their own thermal detonators to explode, taking each of their neighbors down like a game of dominoes. Needless to say, such massive concentrations of explosive devices, with three per soldier, about four meters underneath the pavement and somewhat soft soil between the sewers and the pavement, caused plumbing problems underneath the enemy and the resulting explosions were even strong enough to cause the street to burst almost as if there were explosives directly underneath the pavement. Sure, the enemy tanks could elevate from the ground but the debris coming from underneath them caused trouble to the enemy faster than the enemy was able to raise the main battle tanks' above-ground altitude. As for the anti-aircraft vehicles, they were caught in the resulting explosions, and the street bursting along with the explosions all the same. That was the trap the enemy did not suspect.

Spoiler: Troop composition

Aircraft (over Irnfall):

31 TIE Advanced X1s
12 TIE Reavers

Anti-aircraft emplacements: 70 Kaeshana light hypervelocity cannons

Ground vehicles:

36 Zamboni minesweeping main battle tanks

Infantry:

1770 Dominion troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• RX-329 Blaster Rifle
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)
• V-1 thermal detonators (3 per trooper)
• Korriban heavy machineguns (3 for every 100 men)

335 armed citizenry
Gear: RX-329 Blaster Rifle

73 Dominion snipers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• Snips Sniper Blaster
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

75 missile troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• MiniMan PTL missile launchers
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

 

[Catalys Maijora]

The Acerbitas - Dark hallway

Lights out.

Streaks of stun blasts fired from each point in the hall, Catalys' squad took cover and their armour dampened some of the damage; but it still stung like a schutta.

If things couldn't get stickier, the sudden approach of a wrathful wookie did nothing to settle the situation. The forward commando rolled out of the way of the wookie's forceful strike, but was immediately hit by a well-placed blast which numbs his right arm. Catalys hoists the incapacitator with both hands and shot off a succession of two powerful energy cones towards the wookie.

He knew it wouldn't drop the big guy, but he hoped the pain and spasms would at least slow him down. Without seeing the success--or perhaps failure--of his actions, the Umbaran broke into a dead sprint down the hallway to his right. His modified biology gave him the strength and speed of supersoldier, perhaps akin to a wookie's in some degree; he wasn't exactly itching to find out.

"You're on your own, try to get out of there." He relayed to his unit on comms.

[member="Shorarri"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Location: Asteroid Field, Chiloon Rift
Allies: The Primeval - [member="Boethiah"]
Foes: The Dominion - [member="Bartic Myth'rand"] │ [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] │ [member="Dune Rhur"]

The ships he wrought to lay the Dominion to the blade began to swarm as they neared the Capital ships of their enemy, a proud and violent energy filling their minds as unknown number of communication outbursts were little more than warcries. Each of the pirates had experience, and brought it in full bear against their would be enemies; their entire demeanor something more akin to a wolf in the corner than a man flying in space. However, they were not where this would end.

With how long it took to close the hangers to the ships, and with the main fighter and bomber squadrons overwhelmed with the heavier armed pirates and nuisance miners with almost nothing worth of arms or armor, a clear opening was given to half the makeshift fleet. A large escort of black painted ships brought a series of transports to the forefront of the capital ships attention, they’d use their wall of human lives to allow a quick landing inside the hangars.

All three ships would experience this, an extremely well timed and practiced response to an otherwise impossible enemy. David versus Goliath personified in the asteroid field, they faced a heretical enemy that held little to no morality; and a jihadist behavior not known to Dominion. The Primeval came in force, and today they would feel it.

Mixed amongst them, The Slave and a second transport few to another of the ships. His lips curled wide as he felt a tinge of pleasure run down his spine. The enemy reacted just as he expected, if not better; a fool's game to send out two thirds of their forces against a heavily armed and shielded ship. Especially with their route back cut off by the rapidly expanding debris field, they were simply flies trapped in the spider's web.

In this case, The Slave and Boethiah were the spiders.

 

[Zef Halo]

QUADRANT B-41
PORT MENICHA
CHILOON RIFT

Before departing to Quadrant B-41, both the Givin and Vitor had blankly stared at Vanja's attempts to be a smartass. Avendahl could feel through the Force her impatience and stubbornness. The twi'lek may turn into a dangerous asset for this and he wondered why in the universe had Lord Fa brought her here.

Nonetheless, this was how one learned. If that was a lesson he had learned, he had learned it from the Thirriken.

Their voyage with a repulsor transport was over quickly and the two found themselves on a durasteel paved street, typical to space stations, that reeked of spice. Definitely, not one of the prettiest places on Port Menicha.

Various vagabonds stood leaning on walls and interacting while inspecting the newly arrived folks with unfamiliar faces. Avendahl did not flinch once in his search for the cantina.

Eventually, they had found Riko's by the numerous street fights going on in front of it.

As the duo were to enter the cantina, a patron exiting the establishment with his buds dared to become surprisingly direct with Vanja by slapping her backside and leaving a vocal 'procreative' remark.

In the split second that this all happened, Vitor just hoped that the twi'lek simply proceeded forward.

[member="Vanja Del'Vaan"] | [member="Tai Fa"]​

​

 

[Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift
Allies: [member="Judas Foster"]
Foes: The Primeval - [member="aria vale"], [member="Vaylin"]
Gear: Revan's Robes, Revans Lightsaber

Teresa was unsure if her lure would work. She'd had faced those with blood lust before. Thinking of nothing more than the satisfaction of the kill. Small taps and shuffles could just be heard as the other woman moved. It was enough to track a rough direction and work out it had shifted once the price of rubble had skittered across the floor. Teresa waited there for a moment holding the dopplegänger in place looking unnaturally still. Then there she was the zebrack had entered the rays of light creeping in through the hole.

The mirage would activate a purple blade that was just as hollow as the rest of the illusion. It would quickly swing it to meet the woman's blade. At the point of immanent contact teresa would use telekinesis to imitate the feeling of the blades clashing and jolting the woman's blade back shifting momentum. The mirage moved fast swinging the blade back towards the woman's neck stopping just a few centimeters. "Gotcha." She said from her own mouth before the fake proceeded to move it's blade through her neck causing no damage.

In that moment it dissapeared before vaylin's very eyes allowing Teresa to now move again. With a brisk walk and slight limp her grip extended around the woman's neck squeezing firmly and lifting her to the tips of her toes. There was a feeling of exhaustion having used up a lot of energy. She didn't want to go into the other state indulging the pure dark side from the robes for what else it caused. No she had to make do. This was her environment, her profession. She could finish this. Still the opponent wasn't her target. Just collateral. She had no need to die but then again having her run around would cause problems.

Her grip became more firm enough to start choaking vaylin. "You've done good to live this long. Now I'm going to give you a lesson. One you can't forget." The grip slacked once more letting the woman breath and reply if she could muster the words. "Everything, everyone is messed up illusion. The second you trust them to be real. Then they will cut through your throat a thousand times." Her words was soft sounding but teasing at the same time. She'd let her grip cease as Teresa now stood in front of the girl with the purple blade now ignighting. It was vaylin's move. If she submitted which was unlikely then Teresa would leave. If she chose to fight on. Then Teresa would stop at nothing till the girl was dead or unable to move any longer. Although she knew very well tables could always turn.

 

[Darth Eversor]

Location: Antherion's Stealth Interceptor
Objective: Guard Duty
Allies: [member="Antherion"] | [member="Catalys Maijora"] | [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]
Enemies: [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Atrina"]

Boredom.

Perhaps it wasn't truly boredom that Abraxas felt, but an impatience with his ally. To see how either of them could truly forge a steely truce was... debatable. Neither of the two Dark servants were thoroughly trustworthy in any sense. One sought power and the other craved it, a rather typical line of progression for Sith and those tainted by greed's influence.

The Dread Seed.

For all that Abraxas had been working for was now dashed and torn to shreds by the inconsolable hunger that groaned within him. A beast that now slumbers on the piles of corpses and remains of death's past gifts wrought upon many-a people, and many-a land. Its taste buds had now finally sampled a power that could not be ignored, one greater than any piece of rubbish that false idols collected with the claim of power written all over it. No, this artifact was true power. And the longing, fiendish nature of the darkly clad warrior only intensified under the veil of his very flesh.

But outright striking at the adept could lead to some unfavorable results. Including death from either side of the spectrum, as it were.

And then came a moment of silence. Abraxas let out a faint sigh as he checked the functionality of his only means of defense. Broken, but not incapable of keeping pests at a distance for a while. The Sith thought to himself that this predicament was, in a small way, degrading. This wasn't his proverbial cup of tea, and the longer he sat, the more usless he began to feel. The man felt entitled to a sense of belonging when it came to war, or any battles in general.

The very thoughts of possibly being able to ravage the Acerbitas causing a bit of a stir in Abraxas' mind. A madness that runs through the blood of all crazed warriors.

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift - Inside the outpost, lower level.
Objective: Fight.
Allies: Primeval - [member="Aria Vale"] [Nearby]
Enemies: Dominion - [member="Judas Foster"] [Nearby]
Engaging: [member="Teresa Shan"]
Gear: Lightsaber | Armor

The moment the two blades connected, Vaylin had felt something was off. The bloodlust that had been thrumming itself through her veins had gave way to a moment of insight. Even before she had reached out with her Force Sense, Vaylin could tell that whoever she was clashing didn't seem alive. And when she did, it became clear. The presence was there, but it was as if it were connected to something - like with a set of strings. But before she could realize what it was, Vaylin's blade was knocked aside allowing for the illusion to go for the killing blow.

When she heard the voice, Vaylin finally knew what had happened. The fact the woman in front of her didn't move her lips, and yet spoke all the same. Followed up by the purple blade not connecting, it all added up to one conclusion.

It's an illusi-

Vaylin's thoughts were cut off however as she felt her throat suddenly become increasingly tight. She gasped as she was slowly lifted off the ground, the tips of her boots just barely off the floor. Inwardly, Vaylin cursed at herself. She had let her overconfidence lead her into a trap. The intent to let the bloodlust and fury guide her hand did not work in this scenario, not like it had back on Dxun. But even then, she had five years of experience - to learn how exactly the creatures there fought. Fighting Teresa was a different matter entirely, one the Zabrak hadn't correctly anticipated. This was the first time she had gone straight up against another Force user aside from her Master.

Though Vaylin wasn't one to go out just like that, so she struggled. Her hands reached up - her lightsaber having been instinctively deactivated prior. But each time she tried to, her limbs just fell again, becoming heavier by the second. It didn't stop her however, Vaylin kept attempting it even as she grew weaker.

When Teresa had loosened her grip, Vaylin's fatigue was finally catching up with her. She just frowned at her opponent as she spoke, whatever 'lesson' it was she was trying to convey.

"That...that is a pitiful existence if that's what you go by." Vaylin wheezed the words out as best she could.

Once the woman's grip ceased, Vaylin crumbled to the floor landing squarely on her knees. She took several deep breaths to refill her lungs. As she gradually got things back under control, Vaylin began to chuckle.

Then it turned in a small laugh as she pushed past her fatigue and began drawing in on the dark side around her - combining it with the pain she was feeling.

"Here's my lesson for you...never corner a beast."

Vaylin feinted to go for a lightsaber strike, but instead swiftly swung out of her knelt position and slammed a leg into Teresa's - intending to sweep the woman off her feet. Then, with what energy she had left, Vaylin brought both hands close to her chest before expending the energy into a blast directed towards the armored woman.

She didn't miss a beat after that, Vaylin quickly stood up only to sway a bit from the exhaustion settling in. She needed to get away, either completely or enough so she could recoup something and return to the fight. With a wobble to her legs, Vaylin stumbled over to where the light was shining down, and with what little she could call upon from the Force, she leaped up through the hole.