What're You Doing In My Swamp? | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Dagobah Hex

[Progflaw99]

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Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah System​

LAAT/i Gunship (Wreckage/Crash Zone) | Combat​

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Enemies:​

The Galactic Alliance​

[ Directly | [member="Stephanie Swail"] | Engaging ]​

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[member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]​

[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] | [member="Jak Sandrow"] | [member="Ever Dawnracer"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"]​

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Allies:​

The First Order | The Galactic Empire​

[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]​

[member="Kayrce"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Therran Graush"]​

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The scene was no clearer now than it was a moment ago, a flurry of action broken by brief pause before another action. Such was the cycle, but as the Colonel's eyes fell upon the two figures crouched there, he could see the familiar form of death take hold. There was no place for circumstance upon the battlefield, no glorious or honored moment of peace to part with the dead. Rain had begun to fall, matting down Rolf's hair as the lightning above once more flashed with ferocity. *This is nothing like Dosuun.* he thought silently as he gripped the weapon in his hands. The rain, the lightning above, the cacophony of weapons fire erupting around them - and then a more subtle sound as sparks began to fly off the gunship. *Suppressed rounds?* He couldn't immediately identify their source, and while he wasn't concerned about them causing much damage to the fully armored troopers, both he and his compatriots were without helmets.

As he crouched, hidden in the undergrowth, he saw a bright blue sheen reflecting to his left along the edge of the small copse. A woman. Two others, at least. He couldn't make out much but that blue light was telling. *Jedi.* Rolf didn't have anything against the Jedi, generally speaking they seemed to be decent people who were just a bit self enthralled, perhaps a bit on the religious side. What he did know however, was their penchant for warmongering. It seemed the Alliance was run by the likes of them, their not so subtle use of 'The Force' guiding them to the tops of the power ladder. Regardless, they were deadly when provoked and given the unfolding situation it wouldn't likely be long before he was discovered. He took action instead.

Seeing the newly arrived raise a hand towards the hull of the LAAT, he watched for only a moment, arm snaking up as he pointed the weapon. The Colonel was an excellent shot, years of practice and practical application on the battlefield honing his skills. The weapon raised, he squinted carefully as he readied his hands. *Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.* The mantra replayed silently in his head, index finger slowly and surely squeezing the trigger. Eyes lining up the sights on center mass, the weapon discharged. The sound of it was far from the only noise filling the air around him but with his ears unprotected sent a shiver down his spine. A second follow up shot was sent on its way only milliseconds later - a quick double tap. With any luck, the Imperials behind him had taken his lead. They might have been from different governments and trained in their own ways, but among the special forces community there were several universally known procedures. No words were necessary and as his shots left the weapon Rolf was already on the move, darting to his left and deeper into the foliage as he pressed forward.

*Speed. Surprise. Violence of action.* These were the hallmarks of the Storm Commandos and many other special operations forces across the galaxy, and Rolf practiced each as he vaulted over the rotting remains of a downed tree. Water splashed across his boots as he came down in a puddle, he was hardly there long enough for the mud to stick before he was again darting towards a lumpy berm of moss and upturned soil. It must have been an impact crater from some form of ordinance unleashed by the Empire during their assault, chunks of metal sticking strangely out of the ground near the edges. Pressing his shoulder up against the dirt, he prepared to survey the results of his initial attack.

 

[Zef Halo]

Objective: Exfil invaluable FOSB asset | Kill 'Asharad' (Take hold of the corruption)​

Location: Near the Cave of Evil [Dropship crash wreckage] ​

Allies: First Order, Galactic Empire, [member="Varas Kyrel"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Emilia Ravel"], [member="The Major"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Kayrce"]​

Enemies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Ever Dawnracer"], [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] , [member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"], [member="Jak Sandrow"], [member="Tanaski Yumi"], [member="Stephanie Swail"], @whoeverismissing​

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Graush ignored the rumbling sound of an incoming electrical storm, he could barely register it with his whole attention fixated on his target (Coren). Dead lied all around the battlefield before him. Ravel too. A valuable asset but as every other thing - expandable. The arrival of the Major took his attention only for a moment before once more gazing at the one he saw as his cousin.

Controlled rage rushed through his veins as he noticed one of the soldiers pointing straight at him. How had they seen through his hidden spot remained an unasked question and one of little importance.

The corruption grew. His strength increasing at the same rate of the dark side consuming him and twisting him. Multiple different characters entered the fray. Friends and foes alike. Therran could not bother, he saw them all the same but one person - the one who had stopped the dropship from crushing him and the rest of the rabble. The same one he saw as his cousin Asharad Graush.

The desire to slay 'Asharad' overtook everything. He finally saw his future, that on the helm of House Graush with his foot over his cousin's dead body. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else ever mattered.

He stepped out of the foliage revealing his dark cloaked figure with a wicked grimace on his face and dropping his control of the dropship. No lightsaber in hand, no secret gadgets even visible. He didn't need any. He had the Dark Side and he was fighting on home turf. Dagobah was no place for the Light, it would never be. Therran couldn't care less if the Jedi understood that or did not. They would very soon understand.

His right hand jerked forward clenching his fist brutally, feeling his nails dig into his skin. A mountain of pressure would follow at the one with the barrier, grasping savagely at the insides of the man with the intent of crushing vital organs.

Today Therran would finally eliminate his cousin and complete his ascent to power.

Today he would claim his rightful spot.

 

[Darren Torran]

Location: Dagobah Jungles
Allies: Galactic Alliance & Allies | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Draven Dursden"]
Enemies: First Order & Allies | [member="FN-2826"] | [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]
Objective: Pew Pew at the enemy.

Darren's men jumped behind the trees as Colonel Tempest alerted them to his presence, quickly swinging around and aiming their rippers towards the direction that the sound had came from.

"A stormtrooper - First Order. So it's those buggers who are invading. Nothing like kicking a man while he's down, huh? On my count, give them all you got boys." Darren said, while his men threw some thermo-detonators amongst the fog. "3... 2... 1... Fire!"

Hoping to catch them by surprise, the entirety of Darren's squadron shot blindly into the fog as the grenades detonated. In theory, although they were shooting blindly, the squadron had the advantage over the enemy. In theory...

 

[Tryp West]

Location: Middle of Nowhere
Objective: Take 'em Down
Allies: Sammy and Alex RIP (GA)
Enemies: [member="Khonsu Amon"] Fo Sho! (FO)
Bang Bang

Shoot. Move. Shoot. Move.

It became a mantra. A moment of spiritual necessity. The words overcame everything else- the smell of ozone in the air, the mud drying and stiffening her boots and pants, the rapidly cooling bodies of Sammy and Alex. She didn't think of Jack, of her family, of Samson. Gloved hands moved, hips shifted, feet pivoted, ducking, dodging, jumping.

Mud speckled her goggles. Something sliced past her shoulder, parting the fabric of her jacket, the smell of burning leather filling her nose, but not reaching deeper- luck. Part of the fact that she was still moving was luck. But part was also skill and speed and sheer stubborn refusal to lay down and die.

Shoot. Move. Shoot. Move.

The enhanced sensors in her goggles caught the movement out of the corner of her eye as one of them came around the far edge of the ship. She turned and fired, sending red skittering across his shielding and sending him back again- but for how long?

Only three or four more shots she estimated, having lost count. Two? At least one surely.

The turn toward the first man meant she had to take her attention away from the other direction. The other soldier had stepped into view a heartbeat after the first, but she was already firing in that direction. She started to turn back, to check her back-

Tryp cried out as a quarrel sheered through the hand canon. The shot didn't hit her hand directly, but she let the weapon drop, super heated air and plasma burning through the glove of her left hand that had been steadying the barrel. The gun, attached to a strap, swung around her body from the force, drawing a line of fire from the ruined, melted metal around her thigh as it arced at the limit of the strap.

Left hand burned, curling in toward her body, she drew one of her slug throwers, sending off a shot but the golden armored man had already dodged back again. She didn't look down at her hand- she could feel the burn- didn't have time to inspect it now to see how bad it was. She hissed in air through her teeth in pain. Quickly she drew the ruined gun over her head, getting the still cherry red metal away from her skin- a line of charred fabric and flesh in a parabola along her thigh. Discarded in the mud she was running out of options.

Down to a pair of slug throwers and a carbine she couldn't accurately aim one handed (but could be fired in a pinch) she knew they'd keep coming. If they were smart (and she didn't doubt they were) they'd repeat what they'd just tried. She couldn't look in both directions at the same time. She jump from where she was perched on the side of the ship and hit one of the more solid bits of ground. Her burned leg tried to buckle, but she dove, dropping into a shoulder roll behind the downed tree truck. It kept her cover, and gave her the room she needed to be able to watch a wider arc from either side of the ship.

But she knew it pinned her down.

And she knew they'd know it too.

She didn't stop, but was more careful now, only taking shots with the slug throwers into momentarily empty air, giving them the smallest possible target.

But they were coming, and she couldn't stop them.

What she could do was make it expensive for them.

 

[Kip Hollaran]

Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Sol Stazi"], [member="Lyra Sunfell"], [member="Nuuc Lapt"]
Enemies: The First Order, [member="FN-6767"], [member="Luther Ando"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="The Major"]
Location: Swamp
Equipment: Knife
Objective: Survive

Everything was hazy, even as his vision returned and pain shot through him, Kip's senses remained dull. He could barely make out T'rago opening up the hatch into the swamp, only to come face to face with a muddy and battered stormtrooper, rifle level with the Master Sergeant's chest. In an instant, the maser cracked and his leader fell dead.

Adrenaline kicked in.

Hollaran shot forwards, deaf to the shouting around him as he dove towards the trooper, who prepared to blast Kip point blank and extinguish his life from the galaxy. Instead, Greig threw himself in front of Hollaran, to Togruta's blood painting the young soldier as his closes friend was split open in front of him. Suddenly his senses came back to him, sharpened by raw anger.

The gunner threw himself onto the trooper, taking the man down into the mud as he screamed. Wrangling the rifle away from the soldier of the First Order, Hollaran yanked free his combat knife and drove it into the gap underneath the chestplate of the trooper twice before a gauntleted fist caught him upside the head, knocking him into the muck as the stormtrooper retaliated.

The man bellowed at Hollaran and charged with his own knife drawn. On instinct Kip shot out a leg, kicking the man squarely in the stomach and trying to roll back onto his feet. Kip got to his knees before the enemy soldier charged and drove him into the mud, blade plunging for Hollaran's neck, only to be stopped inches away. Raw fury and pure adrenaline gave Kip the strength to hold away the blade.

His family gone, his friends dead, the boy would be damned if he let them go unavenged. Out of the corner of his eye, the man of nineteen saw Greig lying at the edge of the smoldering U-Wing, blood dripping into the swamp, and his hatred surged. His knife slipped under the trooper's guard and into his stomach. Again and again he savagely stabbed the trooper and as the man fell back, Kip drove himself ontop of the soldier.

Alone and surrounded by the dead, Kip Hollaran stabbed the trooper every where he could, roaring out with anger so raw it could be sensed all around. War had twisted his soul, and now all he wanted was death.

 

[Mazik Stazi]

Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] (Admiral Nai) | [member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Lokthra Dawning"] | [member="Tristram Vos"] | [member="NPCs by Corey"]​

Enemies: First Order, [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Charlotte Reed"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Hogrum Veed"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"]​

Objective: Close the Trap​

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Command Deck // ANS Hereafter
Alliance Rearguard // High Orbit

More ships bearing First Order transponders had been trickling onto their sensors. Farther out into the Dagobah system, it was difficult to obtain accurate readings, but with the data shared between Defense Fleet vessels and those of their allies Mazik and his bridge officers had a pretty good idea as to the disposition of First Imperial forces currently threatening their control over the planet's orbit. Studying a holoprojected tactical map, he stroked an azure chin while he considered his next options carefully.

"Should we recall our squadrons?" Bashir asked, referring to the starfighters they had dispatched towards Dagobah's atmosphere to hunt down straggling assault craft and drop pods.

"No, keep them there in case the Imps send a second wave," the Commodore replied. If this fight drew them farther out of orbit, those squadrons would be critical in reinforcing their Daoba orbital platforms. If necessary, they could also be dispatched to assist the forces in atmosphere under the command of [member="Lokthra Dawning"], "We'll fight at half strength for now."

"Admiral Nai is moving into position," his Mon Cal executive commented, but Stazi was already gazing at the display with rapt attention. Along with Admiral [member="Cathul Thuku"], they both executed micro-jump maneuvers bringing them onto the aft flank of the First Order's general position. Their orders had been to remain behind and hold their ground in orbit, make sure none of the Imperial ships took advantage of the others' maneuver away from the planet. Even [member="Gir Quee"], commander of the allied Directorate forces, had perform a slingshot maneuver to bring his contingent around onto their flank.

"Anomalous gravimetric signature detected!"

"Are we sure it isn't just interference from the nearby debris field?" Mazik asked, wanting to get all the facts first.

"Can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure those are grav-mines, Commodore," Bashir scrutinized a nearby sensor station carefully, before turning back to give his final assessment, "Its in line with their tactical responses to our microjumps in past engagements."

After considering carefully, the grizzled duros officer declared, "We will seize upon this opportunity."

"We've been ordered to hold orbit," his first officer reminded him, blinking bulbous Mon Cal eyes in mild alarm.

"And yet we have the chance to entrap at least some of their ships between us."

As he tersely explained his logic, Commodore Stazi stalked towards Bashir until he was standing inches away from the amphibian's face, his eyes daring the young man to challenge his command again.

"Your orders, sir?" the Mon Cal practically shouted, eyes straight ahead in a display of apparent deference.

"We'll push forward, and engage this strike group here," he jabbed violently at the controls that would highlight his desired targets on the tactical display, "The supposed mine layers."

"Aye, sir."

Mazik ordered his senior officers to divide their remaining squadrons into two screens, each would deploy ahead of the slower capital ships to cut off the Imperial strike group's avenue of escape, hopefully leaving [member="Charlotte Reed"] no choice but to advance and engage them directly or risk being driven back into across their minefield into main weapons range of his fellow flag officers. After communicating directly with their captains, both his Dreadnought-class escorts were dispatched to close on the FIV Lochaber while they held back at extreme weapons range and targeted the FIV Daring with the Hereafter's long range batteries.

"Show them no quarter," he growled, as much to himself as to those around them, "Fire!"

Galactic Alliance 5th Fleet, Patrol Group Light's Hammer

Spoiler

ANS Hereafter | Citadel-class Star Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Advancing to extreme weapons range on the FIV Daring and firing with long range batteries.

ANS Defiant | Dreadnought-class Mk. III Escort Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Advancing at full sublight on the FIV Lochaber in an attack posture.

ANS Blood of Eriadu | Dreadnought-class Mk. III Escort Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Advancing at full sublight on the FIV Lochaber in an attack posture.

Summary of Actions

Spoiler

Remaining squadrons closing on either flank of Task Force 910.
Patrol Group advancing to position the task force between them and flanking Alliance ships.
ANS Hereafter fires on FIV Daring with long range batteries while both escort cruisers advance on the FIV Lochaber at full sublight.

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Airi Tobec"]

Enemies: The First Order, [member="FN-6767"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="The Major"]

Location: The Swamp

Approaching [member="Kip Hollaran"]

Objective: Link up with Alliance assets at U-wing crash site



He managed to keep his boots on despite every attempt by the swamp to take them.

They were definitely needed, as Nuuc hated the thought of trudging through this muck in socks alone. Every step was a battle, though, but not nearly as brutal of one as the sight ahead of him.

Nuuc had finally reached the U-wing crash site, following the smell of scorched metal over the natural scents of swampland, and owing to his natural Sullustan sense of direction. As he approached, he could hear the primal shouts of anger as a man in Alliance gear ravaged a trooper with just a knife, blood flying every time he withdrew the blade.

"Green Leader we're on your beacon, thirty seconds out."

The call came over his comm unit loud enough for the Alliance soldier to hear, if he were paying attention. And if he hadn't, he surely would have heard Nuuc's response to them, giving instructions to set down behind the crashed U-wing. It had cleared room for the dropship to at least hover low enough for them to hop out, even if it couldn't set down.

Nuuc pushed through the tree line, approaching slowly so as to avoid incurring the wrath he was clearly capable of putting out.

"Are you from the U-wing?" he asked, taking slow steps with his hands out to the sides. "I'm with the Alliance, I'm here to help. I've got some men coming to reinforce us. What's your mission?"

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

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Hex M, 50 GSM // Dagobah System​

Enemies:
The Galactic Alliance
[Directly Engaging: [member="Stephanie Swail"] ]

[member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] | [member="Jak Sandrow"] | [member="Ever Dawnracer"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"]

Allies:
The First Order | The Galactic Empire
[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] (RIP) | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
[member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Therran Graush"]

The first sound had been a given whistle of something being fired nearby, it had been quiet though yet noted by the First Order Commando who had taken to a crouch within the Undergrowth. Rhun, her so far lone Inferno survivor had also taken to cover, potentially unseen near a tree and log that were entwined within each other in a loving embrace or deathly reminder of how nature ruled on this swamp world. Then she, the Commander and potentially highest ranking remaining Imperial on the planet, was down in the bog, prone after the shot where she could be quiet and closed off to the world around her. Above them the skies had opened, clearing the mist as rain became heavy and lit the world up with sounds not heard over the war currently taking the attention of all sentient life on the planet.

The smell of the water had began to enter her nose, it was after all directly beneath her face that was led close to the floor she led on, or in she thought as the wet bog moved beneath her body. Nearby the First Order Commando had raised his weapon, Kayrce following its direction until she saw, like he must have the shadowy silhouettes within the edges of the copses and tree groupings. Her head turned, slowly as to avoid any form of quick movement that could be picked up by those unaware of the trio, she indicated towards the group to Rhun, who raised his own weapon and nodded in turn, taking aim.

She had to breathe deep through her nose as her rifle was pulled to her eye, her mouth sinking into the puddle of bog she was led in to get the perfect firing position. Her heart rate lowered, her breathing stagnated to allow her to be as still as she could, allowing her to take aim and as she heard the double tap of Rolf, followed quickly by Rhun’s own double tap. Then it was her turn, her finger tapping. One. Two. the blaster releasing fire upon their target.

Rolf moved fast, vaulting. Kayrce just as quick, she rolled and lifted to a knee, releasing another series of shots to keep the attention away from Rhun who had broken the tree line and was heading with speed towards where the attention of their targets had been, and Rolf who had faded into a mist on their right. Several shots more and she was on her feet, running to slide behind a broken down log and took cover. Her eyes glanced down, meeting the dead eyes of a Stormtrooper, an Imperial whose helmet had been blown clean in half. She felt nothing however, no mourning, no loss of faith. It only increased her need to kill who she could to make the Empire’s efforts worth it in the long run.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

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Mishel had the pleasure of watching [member="Margaret the Grey"] let her insides go outside.

"Man, you're messed up nine ways to the Netherworld on a Prime Day."

The teenager flopped onto the ground before getting to her feet, she looked over at the person who was covered in everything. Everything. Mud, swamp, vomit, and whatever else was around here, "yeah... whooooooo." Mishel waved at the air from the smell, "yeah you stay way over there, man is this what I smelled like after that bar crawl? Ashira have mercy, Samka was a damn saint, well..." She shifted her gaze and put her hands on her hips, "so you stay there, stay.... stay... good lightsider."

"Gotta make a call right quick."

Mishel knew that Samka had let her go, she also knew that Ara and the Cute Blonde™ were sent scurrying to do whatever dark deed their Father had sent them on. Tools. She thought to herself as she wretched the fancy comm device from where she had put it. "Noren to Nemo, I need a heavy airstrike at the following coordinates,"she then proceeded to give the coordinates, "keep it close on these coordinates," and a few more, "and wide spread here and here, in fact - can you just make a crater? A big crater, or just everywhere actually, the place is already a pisshole, don't worry. I'm sure you can fill it in later... with a parking lot and Mando Burger."

The goal of the call was to make life an ever living feth hole for the Ren, unless one of them suddenly became Mishel's mother Siobhan and started slinging starships around like toy trucks. In which case all bets were off and she'd crawl into the nearest cantina and drink herself to death by liver poisoning.

Switching off the communications, the teen bent her knees a bit and put her hands on top just so she could get a look at all what she was dealing with. "Right."

"Okay, so we're a bit far for a change of clothes but this swamp is littered with dead, pretty sure you can loot the bodies for new stuff that doesn't smell nearly as bad." Just don't mind the pock marks, holes and blood and you're alright. Mishel focused a moment centering herself, a hand outstretched as she felt the Force flow through her. "Right, this way, my brother and my niece are here. It's time to give them a rowdy Coalition hello."

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] [Fort Nemo/FOB Dagobah]

O P P O N E N T S:
[member="Varas Kyrel"] [Soon™]

 

[Robogeber]

Allies: [member="Charlotte Reed"] | [member="Hogrum Veed"]
Enemies: [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Gir Quee"] | @Lothkra Dawning | [member="Rick Kaloo"] | [member="Roth Tillian"] |
Objective: Regroup.

Carlyle's watched as the Alliance fleet leaped from before his vessels, now to his flank. His fists clenched, and plastered across the remainder of his faceplate, a look of contempt bloomed across cracked and shattered glass. The Alliance were not making this easy, and it would be difficult to hold out, particularly with the unrelenting assault they were rendering. But still, the response had been fragmented, and it was time to use the Alliance's own infrastructure against them.

"Belay the plan." Carlyle coldly informed his subordinates. This would be an improvised manoeuvre. One which would hopefully at least abate the attacks, and force the Alliance to rethink their approach, "Move towards those shipyards." He commanded, gesturing to the massive docks which sat in orbit. The Allegiance pressed ahead, it's still substantial shield capacity drawing fire while its compatriots moved to the shipyard, providing consistent barrages of anti-fighter fire as they did so.

As the Allegiance now moved to this new position, it began to deploy gravity mines, a deterrent against any further evasive and freakish hyperspace jumps. As it closed in on the station, the Predator-class destroyer turned a little, allowing its three mega-class turbolasers, a fresh new angle against the assembled and united force they now faced. The batteries bombarded the ANS Lothal, before disappearing into the laybrinth of construction and repair equipment. If the Alliance now wished to press their attack, they would be forced to endanger their own equipment.

Spoiler

Name: FIV Allegiance
Class; Predator-Class Star Destroyer
Shields: 42/100
Hull: 83/100
Firing at: ANS Lothal

Name: FIV Stamina
Class: Fortan-II Class Heavy Corvette
Shields: 68/100
Hull: 75/100
Firing At: Roth Tillians Fighters

Name: FIV Bravery
Class: Bolt-II Class Picket Corvette
Shields: 63/100
Hull: 56/100
Firing At: Roth Tillians Fighters

 

[Huxy]

Allies: Glorious First Order
Nearest Allies: [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance & Alliance Allies
Nearest Enemies: [member="Darren Torran"]
Aboard: N/A
Location: Wandering through Foggy Jungle
ST's under Command: Twenty-four (Excluding Tempest)
Objective: Survive the Firefight
Equipment:
"Deep Fryer" Rifle
P-23 Pistol
Ballistic Knife

Wounds:
Blaster Wound - 1 inch deep, right shoulder

The glow of blue laser-fire had come barreling through the thick fog like it were some wild, charging beast meant to make sport of the troopers. Some troopers were struck, one of which was killed in the blind laser-fire coming from the opposition which was now definitely confirmed to be of Alliance origin. Tempest didn't care if they were apart of the Alliance, Confederacy, or Silver Jedi...they were enemies, that's all they were...all they were supposed to be in the cold steel eyes of Tempest. A burning sensation stabbed through Tempest's shoulder, making the area of impact on the armor partially melted due to the superheated plasma ripping a hole through the flex-armor, right under the right shoulder-plate of Tempest's FO-O2 armor. His top lip fell to his bottom violently and in pain, drawing the warm taste of blood from his bottom lip as the pain coursed through his body. The area of impact burned cruely under the flex armor, it felt as though it was spider-webbing across Tempest's skin under his flex armor. A curse emitted from the mouth of Tempest, one which was under his breath as to not give away his location. He then began to speak into the comn, slowly and soflty with a painted tone in his voice. "Fan out, those to my right...go right, and the left goes left. M-move out"

Tempest stayed low to the ground as the blue blaster fire rained overhead, the stormtroopers along with Tempest delivering retaliation against whoever was currently firing upon them. As Tempest felt around and looked through the fog, he found the remains of a large tree trunk, staying crouched behind it so that he would be shielded from any more blaster fire. "Give them hell when you're in position...we d-don't want to give them an opportunity for counter-retaliation. Just keeping shooting till you can't do it anymore or until the blue blaster-fire stops." Tempest muttered into his comn as he delivered a few shots of super-heated plasma into the direction of the blue laser fire, hoping to strike one of the opposing enemies.

 

[The Major]

Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah
Over Dagobah ground | Present Time | Objective Blue
First Order Security Bureau Operations Task Force
Allies: [member="FN-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Ara Zambrano"] and The First Order
Enemies: [member="Nuuc Lapt"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Lokthra Dawning"] | [member="Airi Tobec"] | [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] and the Galactic Alliance
Besides the corpse of [member="Emilia Ravel"]

Walking in the swamp takes time. Of that much one can be certain. Interlopers abounded like the very embers flicking about before being smothered by rain, and in the phantasmagoria of murk, viscera, death throes and high pitched blaster fire nothing could really pierce this end. Guilt. Rational. Examination. All these things were far away, contrite. The War. The Alliance. Even the First Order. They were killing each other in the mud. Did they see that? Was it worth it? What did it produce? Irrelevance. The lot of it. Ranks, titles, prestige, credits, medals -all gutless faff for those looking to justify existence. Sybil had forsaken her teachings in her youth and now the results were painfully apparent. Greif racked her soul as the cosmos itself seemed to point, laugh, and say in singsong: I toooold you soooo!

Flames traced downward, ineffective as the heavy rain smothered most of the package. After all, it was bullet —just a meager bullet. Only so much chemical could be packed into something so convenient. Sybil did not quiver or even notice her friend’s face lighting up in soft lights of orange hue. Maybe her head would have lit on fire or even worse might have happened, but luckily the hunters were ready to help. Acquainted with the trick parasol, the nearest of these deft lads sprung forth in a single leap; he grabbed the cherrywood handle, flipped it upwards in time, and unfurled the device. Covering his unit leader in this way, he perhaps pondered how mysterious the days could be. He imagined how ridiculous he looked: a death trooper in archaic style hat, tall and hostile, standing over comrades while it rained flecks of flame. The pink armorweave lace had become muddy and wet by the grace of Dagobah, and what little fire did manage to survive the trip burnt the fabric in spots but died quickly. Ironically. The embers died as quickly as Emilia did. And yet, before the finale a strange monk appeared. Were his intentions foul then he would have surely been fired upon by the hunters. They relented not out of weakness or fear; they were simply accustomed to the bizarre. Why harshly shoot at every single thing without warning. Something could be learned. Gleaned. Passed on. Besides, the swamp was full of prey to stalk. It was only a matter of minutes before the war enveloped them with lethal intent.

Sybil paid the elder one no mind. Heard no words. But she did know of the Force, and for Emilia’s final state of soon coming eternal peace rather than squabble or embrace ugliness she allowed the recluse to perform his spells. It was of course too late. Magic was no counter to the laws of the physics. They could be bent by the Force. Not broken. At least not tonight. Not in this den of life’s utmost arrogance and depravity. His energies did perhaps give the fallen just a few more moments to dream, and now the Fallanassi capitalized on the opportunity, banding and enhancing her own mind altering, invasive techniques to delve deep into the dying disaster, the Station Chief, and glorious friend’s now defenseless mind. She wanted to see —had to see what Officer Ravel was could not fathom to say in words. Was it depravity to commit to such an act? Would it provide absolution?

Sybil saw flashes, dreams. All shining all the more dimly as they played out faster and faster.

She saw a yellow flower, shimmering. It so perfectly encapsulated everything her friend represented: alone against the sunny blue sky.

The macabre woman wept.

The moment. Hush. Noise beat on unending as the swamp jiggled with raindrops. Mud splattered. Troopers fell dead. And yet another statistic for the war archives was accrued.

At some point Sybil realized the deed was done, and found her head cradled against the shoulder of a corpse.

She pulled back and laid the dead gingerly upon the mounds of soot. So affected, the Fallanassi didn't even realize that the fallen one’s blood had splotched all upon her face —making a ghastly paint that streamed down like tears if she was capable of shedding them. Chrome plated hands reached through the dead’s pockets and pulled a datapad which she then stowed in a hardcase. Her eyes met the elder’s once this was quickly done. They were like onyx orbs with only the tracest flecks of blue. Empty. Cold. She uttered, lying, “You have done a kindness.” The Major placed the helmet back on and clasped the latch to its secure setting. She would need the sturdiness in a few moments…

Slugs flew in, ambushing the clearing. One of the two hunters shuddered audibly as a lucky round lodged into the crook of his elbow, sending out a quick spurt of blood. Adept when facing such brutality, he first quick stepped backwards with the sudden momentum and propelled himself into a roll which allowed him to escape from the clearing. The second let the parasol drop and quickly brought his heavy blaster to bear in the general direction of the attack -instinctually reading the vector by spotting the angle in which his brother recoiled from. Suppressed rounds already had problems puncturing armorweave, never mind deathtrooper armor. A round or two pathetically pinged off or shattered against his breastplate, flying too far and not in sufficiently large enough caliber to cause much harm to the armor. Nevertheless, a stray bullet into a gap or the unarmored head would kill him rightly, and so while he wildly blind fired from one arm, the other tossed his entire complement of flash grenades just a few meters from their position. They cracked apart as designed just as the sudden violence caused the Major to corpse loot a G-11F blaster from the still cooling departed while ducking behind the monk. He could be on the Alliance side. Or a hermit living in seclusion in these accursed woods. It mattered not to the Fallanassi. His magic would most likely protect from an ambush. If the monk was felled, then perhaps his god could provide him divine compensation for his good deeds. Grabbing the parasol while also rolling in the mud. A dozen pinpoints of flashing brilliance boomed in the clearing somewhere to the huntress’ rear, and she was off at full sprint as the slugs continued to make a mess of the debris. Covered by slimy boulders and more crooked trees the trio could either make a circle around to flank their new attackers or retreat to a nearby collection of friendly IFF tags. They opted for the latter choice. On the battlefield only survival mattered.

Just above them the FIV Tirade was already retreating from the battle as yet another company of Imperial personnel were whisked aboard by continuously cycling gunship pickups. The Beat Siren picked up more speed and began weaving to avoid turbolaser blasts from space. Staying agile and using the foolish bloodthirstiness of the uncoordinated fire from Alliance fleets closing in, they encouraged their enemies into friendly fire incidents. Since apparently hitting them was so essential then they would exploit over aggressive tactics for as long as possible. Which admittedly was not long. The Hemwick took some hits since it was closest to the enemy in space but the shields held -only because they risked it all by diving and swooping as low to the canopy as any frigate ever has. It some cases they took more damage from scraping against jutting rocks or randomly catching shells or ground combatant rounds. Desperate, the officers aboard gave orders to break and run, but the commander aboard the Hemwick had something special in mind to repay his foes.

Meanwhile, above higher…

The Tortuga continued its cloaked motion. It had only been eight minutes since they engaged their move. A lot had happened everywhere, and they were completely oblivious to the circumstances. Soon, they would decloak....

Spoiler: OOC Info; Fleet Actions

Please note that all ships are IN MOTION at high speed. -accuracy of fire +evasion
FOSB Operations Task Force:
FIV Tortuga
Nightgaunt Class Stealth Corvette
Shields: 100/100
Hull: 100/100
Status: Cloaked

FIV Tirade
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 81/100
Hull: 71/100
Status: Routing

FIV Hemwick
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 62/100
Hull: 85/100
Status: Last Stand

FIV Carousel
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost

FIPV Beat Siren
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel
Shields: 79/100
Hull: 85/100
Status: Routing

FIPV Blackhole 3-3
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Nearby Ally : [member="FN-2826"] "Tempest" |
| Immediate Enemy : [member="Darren Torran"] |
| Location : Dagobah jungles |
| Objective : Survive |
| Status : Minimal injuries --
- Minor tinnitus
- Scrapes to face |
| Equipment:

Spoiler: ""

- Jungle fatigues
- Stormtrooper blast vest
- Medical backpack
- "Deep Fryer" rifle

†††


Blinding flashes, deafening cracks, and it was as if the fog itself had run away from the sudden violence. Instinct took over. Aes’ona threw herself to the ground, her new, sprawled-out position made somewhat awkward because she had been kneeling.

Even as the grenade smoke cleared, she felt herself behind hauled up. Up? Yes, it had to be up; she was in the mud. The doctor’s head had never been this unclear, as murky as the swamp’s water. Blaster fire from both sides was distorted in her ears, and what little sound came was periodically overprinted by a monstrous ringing...

The fog had since set back over the battlefield. Blue bolts shot from a white curtain hanging in between a threshold of yonder trees.

“…to co-er!” She barely registered that a trooper, her savior, behind her, was yelling at her, before she was dragged off to the left with a strong arm clamped around her waist.

The next thing the doctor knew, she was being thrown down and against a large boulder. “Stay here, doc,” the trooper barely had time to mutter over her comm before disappearing back into the firefight.

Aes’ona’s hand found her rifle again and set it over her lap; she then leaned her head back against the rock with a hefty sigh. There was not much time to think--what, with the loud tinnitus in her ears, and the flashing blue all around her--but she did:

She was here for a medevac, for kark’s sake. Did the Alliance (if these people were indeed that) and the First Order not, for all their fundamental differences that they fought ceaselessly over, carry more or less the same medical code? And now there was a good chance that she would have to trade her art of healing for the art of wounding. Not one bit. She did not like that reality one bit.

Honestly, though, she had not come here for that. She was not a stormtrooper but a doctor. And neither was she a defector, but she had another job to do.

Like that, she had made up her mind. With a raised hand, she tightened her right shoulder strap as more of an assurance than a necessity. She would be fine, right? The troopers were taking the fire. With any luck, she would be able to slip away in the fog. She lightly kissed the tips of her right middle and pointer fingers, and pressed them to the dirtied metal of the shield in the hollow of her neck. She’d be fine.

Aes’ona stood up shakily, her plan working so far, perhaps thanks to the weather cover. Slightly emboldened, she make a break for the underbrush to her left.

“Dammit!” the same trooper swore to herself as she saw Aes’ona moving towards the woods from her own current position behind cover. The soldier took a few, almost tentative steps after Doctor Terrani before running to catch up. As she did, she pressed in her helmet comm to report to Tempest, “Corp, going after Terrani. I think she’s bound for the capital ship.”

 

[Loto Afu]

Location: Debris Field from the first battle of Dagobah
Ship “Power of love” http://starwarsrp.net/topic/96464-gr-105-crusis-armed-transport
Primary mission: Crashing, to fething busy for missions!
Allied: I’m all alone
Dance partners: [member="Brennan Cabrol"]
#TeamAlliance

Music​

Warning light flashed and sirens waled as the First Order corvette exploded in front of them. The explosion ripped what little of the imperial sloop hull remained from the tow spars as the shock wave fit them. Systems sizzled, and exploded and the hull began to breach in multiple places.

"Captain, we are venting, we need to land!" the first officer screamed.

"I hear ya bro'da, changing course to take us to Dagobah." Loto replied.

As the power of love nosed over and began to descend critical systems began to fail left and right.

"Sublight just went down!" the first officer called out.

Loto continued to guide the ship down as vital systems continued to falter. Like a comet it was streaking across the sky, those in the swamp would notice the area getting suddenly brighter before it passed. All hands began to brace for impact as Loto counted down the seconds to earth.

"5...4...3...2...1... Wait is that Yoda's old place?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The transfer to the transports was smooth.

The transition between the transports in space and the surface of Dagobah was... rough. Out of a dozen landers, two made landfall, including Talbot and [member="Alec Sienar"]'s. The men forced the doors open roughly, having been shaken about like dice in a cup, from the dropship at the end of a long, angry slash that it had carved through the swamp, shot down by Alliance defense stations. Talbot's body ached; he was sure without his armor he would've been smashed flat. He shouldered the rifle and kicked the door out of the way, then carefully dropped onto the surface.

"Good lord, what is that smell?" asked Talbot as he turned over to see Alec disembarking the ship as well. "We're a klik and a half from the Imperial FOB. Let's go and scout it out, see if there's anything worth extracting." He slipped his helmet back on; the filters did help with the smell. "Stay low and slow; we'll get ourselves to the forward operating base and take a look. Be on the lookout for enemies. Scanners up." He set a proximity scanner and alarm on his HUD and set off, keeping to the trees as far as he could.

"What's your take on all this?" he asked over coms to [member="Alec Sienar"]. "Think we've got a shot to take the sector?"

 

[Luther Lewis]

​

​

Allies: [member="FN-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"].
Enemies: [member="Nuuc Lapt"], [member="Lyra Sunfell"], [member="Kip Hollaran"], [member="Sol Stazi"].
Location: Swamps of Dagobah - Aboard a speeder.
Luther's Equipment:

Spoiler

• DE-39 "Deep Fryer" Model Maser Rifle.
• Medical Backpack.
• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour. Tank-Trooper Variant embellished with medical symbol.

Vehicle Status:

Spoiler

Vehicle: LAVr FI-H8b 'Hussar' Command Speeder. Stripped sensor/targeting and command suites, retrofitting said areas for medical support.
Crew: Four members of the 11th Armoured Division.
Action: Enroute to Luther's positon.
Hull: 67%.
Mobility: 81%.
Crew Health: Injured.

​

Luther had everyone clear a space, so he could get a good look a Scar's leg. He crouched down beside her, removing his squelching helmet and breathing in the filtered air. "What do you mean? Of course, it is your fault. Didn't your CO tell you that, as soon as you stepped on the LAAT, you signed up to be shot at by Alliance scumbags" he joked, an uncharacteristic grin on his face.

In contrast to her earlier wounds, this leg wound didn't look nearly as bad. The problem was that the shrapnel had warped the leg-piece of the armour. It made it all that harder to get the piece out. He started up severing the straps that held the plate in place and then, using forceps, tried removing the metal shards. Gentle tugging produced no results, the shrapnel was wedged firmly in the plate. It didn't take him long to reach a decision. He had Scar's remove her helmet and then handed her a spare roll of bandages. "You're not going to use this in the conventional manner. I need you to stick that in your mouth, so you don't bite your tongue off". Not bothering to check that she was following orders, he grabbed the plate in two hands.

"The shrapnel in this armour plate is pretty well embedded in". After his stunt with the flares, he decided it was probably best to explain before he did anything rash. "So rather than take forever to remove them one by one, and risk you bleeding out, I'm going to remove this plate and all shards in one swoop". He took a deep breath. "I'm going to count back from ten, and when I hit zero I'll pull okay? Ready? Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four-" he pulled the plate up early, hoping to surprise her and remove some on the tension. He moved it relatively smoothly, not going too fast. As he hoped, most of the shrapnel went with the plate and the rest could be easily removed. He washed out the wounds with water and bacta, before binding it.

He did his rounds for the rest of the unit, but none were as bad as Scars. 'Those who got hit, got left behind' he thought grimly. Satisfied that, for the moment, all was calm, he entered the cockpit. Four of his crew were there. Brianna was driving, being navigated by Skye in the adjacent seat. Tia was elbow deep in one of the nearby consoles, the engineer swearing like a sailor, while Garreth whispered sweet nothings to a comms unit in a desperate attempt to get it working.

Seeing their commander approaching, Skye and Garreth gave a salute while Tia barrelled into him to give him a hug. "Easy, easy" he laughed. "I'm pretty sore after, you know, crash landing". He collapsed in a heap next to Garreth. "You'll get no sympathy from us, not after those laps you made me and Lee do back on the Rage. Skye quipped. Her tone was mirthful, but her eyes were concerned, as they were for the rest of the crew. It wasn't the first time they had lost crew members, but it would've been the first for a long while, had Luther not made it.

"Alright, alright, if you all see me as a hard-ass you might as well give me a report". Skye turned back to guide Brianna and Tia already had her head stuck back in a panel, so Luther turned to Garreth. "Well, when you didn't deploy the flares, the Cap'n made us go down anyway". The smaller man said. "We eyeballed the landing zone a bit, but it turns out we weren't so far off anyhow. We were only about four and a half klicks from the Empire forces, and we've been supporting them while you've been mucking around in the mud.” The comms officer smiled slightly. “We're headed there now". Luther nodded and moved back into the main cab of the speeder.

He approached Rexus but raised his voice so all could here. "We are back on track! We inbound to Galactic Empire forces, so ready up! Touch down is in 30!". With a deep sigh, he popped on his damp helmet and stretched, getting ready to depart.

 

[Kier Grey]

Cpl. FN-6767 "Scars"
Dagobah Surface, Repulsor Tank Interior.
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Luther Ando"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="[/COLOR]Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"]

Spoiler: Equipment

• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour (Tank Trooper Variant, one-color white passive camouflage)
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs
• T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine
• G-11F Blaster Rifle

Scars raises left seat's armrest up and pivots steadily slinging her legs carefully across it to give Ando better access to her right-thigh breathing through her teeth attempting to ignore the hot metal pieces lodged into her body, their searing touch penetrated much deeper than the pieces would suggest. Ando's jest earns her attention though she purposefully averts his gaze staring at the already dressed wounds and placing a hand over them applying significant pressure with palm, eye contact had a habit of making the battle-hardened albeit young Trooper more than a pinch anxious. Ironically this happened out of combat in calmer situations. "Haven't seen my Officer Commanding since the Blockade, ended up aboard an Alliance Battlecruiser neck-deep in swabbies and irate marines." The memory forces a wry chuckle from pursed lips marred with clay-like dry blood, gentle tugs at the metal give rise to a series of irritated pain-filled grunts from Scars. Out of the corner of her two simmering emerald cybernetic spheres behind visor does she notice Ando make some gesture offering some rolled bandages. Looking at them for a moment in silence confused behind Duraplast visage she asks. "What are those for?" Pausing she listens to his explanation before turning face away from Ando pressing cheek gently against cool leather seat before raising helmet over head before a brief hiss of hermetic seal prying away from around neck. Before stuffing the bandages between teeth with brunette bob obscuring the ubiquitous Scars carved into the side of visage. White straight teeth bite deeply into the pearl coloured bandages and waits tensely with eyes pursed gently for Ando to begin offering a nod to confirm understanding. Counting down towards the moment she winces slightly and releases a slight whimper with the moment, leg quivering as jaws clamp tightly around bandages, a short window passes where she feels the lukewarm feeling of sanguine lifeblood spirt lazily from skin over bodysuit before Ando swiftly offers the cool comforting relies of Bacta. Breathing a relieved sigh through nostrils she takes dressing previously held in maw and begins to tightly bind them around thigh being careful and mindful of hair's orientation keeping the shroud over cheeks.

Raising eyes searching for the large burly Trooper who she had earlier identified on her HUD as 'Twigg' she attempts to get his attention. "Trooper Twigg, grab me some zero-two thigh plates from the tank's storage locker." The order is conveyed with obvious pain in tone as Scars cringes, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together with jaw clenched tightly. Finishing binding the white bandages atop Ando's work she steadily pivots in leather seat back towards the hull, laying head gently against Hull wall with helmet rolling off of lap onto floor. Eyelids steadily crawl together shut as Scars becomes absent-minded drifting off into a land of dreams.

 

[Stephanie Swail]

LOCATION: Swamps outside Fort Nemo, Dagobah
OBJECTIVE: Repel the First Order – hold the line
ALLIES: The Galactic Alliance and allies in vicinity - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member=Marl] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"]
ENEMIES: The First Order and allies in vicinity - [member=Kayrce] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="The Major"]

Stephanie felt the weight tear at her arms, and so she had to move.

She grunted and twisted her body sharply, her left arm aimed lower but focused on supporting the energy below the drop –

CA-PING!

Her back felt like had been –

CA-PING!

And again!

A dull pain sent her sprawling forward as the loud crack of blaster fire ricocheted off her shield across her back. Stephanie crumpled and landed knees first, then arms, in the soggy bog. The wind knocked out of her and shaken by an attack that continued overhead – blaster fire cracking out from the murky swamp over her head.

"DOWN!" The Padawan shouted – near croaked.

Stephanie, coated in green and brown muck and gunk rolled over and over until she found a dip in the terrain and scrambled to slide the shield over her head and fixed onto her left arm. Brown hair thick with slime was matted to her head and her eyes were wide as the shots came. If she hadn’t shifted her weight at that moment, she would have been…dead.

She wiped some muck from her face and found her lightsaber hilt, coated with damp moss, by her side. Her hand gripped the hilt and she turned onto her stomach and crawled forward, the sight of [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] yards ahead.

"Yuroic LEAVE IT," she hissed and brought her arm up. "All Silvers at Ne - " a bug crawled along her wrist-com. With a grimace, she flicked it away. "All Silvers at Nemo get to our position quickly! Stormtroopers in-bound – and not the usual hap-hazard ones; these seem well trained! "

It was silent for a moment, and then more blaster fire at another angle. They were flanking. They were well-trained indeed. Stephanie ducked down instinctively, but saw the impact of a bolt on a thick tree above her. She turned her head in the approximate direction of fire.

With fingers tightening on the hilt, she took some slow breathes and shivered slightly. She was here to do her duty. To protect others. To lead the way. To help the Alliance. To be the Light. The muck was cold on her skin, but she thanked the Force she didn’t bother with her usual Hapan robes.

Dark eyes, complete with Dagobah-swamp war paint across her face, peered up as she knelt, then rose in a steady crouch position, and made her move.

She ignited the blue blade that glowed around the trees and held the shield across her body, the faded colours of the Galactic Republic visible as a sign of her origins. Stephanie started forward, focusing her Force energy around her, watching and listening and feeling with the Force and letting it empower and drive her, to manipulate and enhance her.

Then, she began to run in the direction of the blaster bolt, zig-zagging this way and that and she leaped forward over a small incline, shield aimed down, and slammed into the ground with all her might and a burst of Force telekinesis to send anyone, and anything, up and out of her way as she made her mark towards the unseen enemy.

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

Location: Dagobah, GA FOB

Allies: GA, SJO, CiS and allies
Enemies: FO and allies

Nearby: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"]
Engaging: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="[/FONT]Varas Kyrel"] | [member="[/FONT]Emilia Ravel"] | [member="[/FONT]Therran Graush"]

Spoiler: Gear

Armour:

Sasori Armoured Robes
Murr Earings

Weapon:

Asaraa's Lightsaber

Droids:

1 Pack of Pred-X - Deployed as scouts for the Silver Jedi Expeditionary Force
1 Pack of War-X - Deploying with the Silver Jedi Expeditionary Force

Asaraa could see her master standing in front of the First Order, the force swirling around him as he reached up to the vehicle, the First Order’s vehicle no less, holding it in place to allow the troops a chance to escape. Standing against him were the knights of Ren, she’d never met them before, but there was something about them, the slick darkness of the force that seemed to pulse around them that was so familiar.

Without thinking, with no conscious recourse to thought the young woman threw herself forward, booted feet barely touching the ground as she passed Yuroic’s side, coming to stop in a line next to Tanaski, mind reaching out to the force, pulling in the energy to buoy herself, as she brought one hand down to rest on the lightsaber by her side, blue eyes narrowing as she swept her gaze around the clearing. The three Ren stood out most clearly, drawing everyone’s gaze as the troops around them shifted, deploying themselves into a combat position as the world seemed to pause, freeze around the two sides. Without looking the young woman gestured to her side, the datapad which had been clipped to her belt rising, floating at her side for a moment. The Togruta let out a deep breath, gesturing with her hand as the datapad shot away from her side, flying through the air to hang next to Marl. “I think you might need this more than I do.”

The girl’s voice was soft, unworried as she twisted to smile at the man, “If you can handle the troopers then we’ll keep the Ren off your back.” She turned back to face the trio of force wielders across from them, “the droids should be able to help you.” That was all she managed to get out before the ship that Yuroic and Stephanie had been holding up came crashing down, its blunt nose driving into the wet dirt of the swamp, the impact almost driving the young woman from her feet. She staggered unsteadily, one hand touching down on the ground to stabilise herself as she glanced behind her, blue eyes wide open in shock at the sight behind her. "Yur...are you both ok?"

 

[Hogrum Veed]

[SIZE=10.5pt]DAGOBAH ORBIT[/SIZE]​

ALLIES [member="Robogeber"] [member="Charlotte Reed"]​

ENEMIES ADMIRAL NAI [member="Mazik Stazi"]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Orders in," said the ensign, and Hogrum nodded while he watched the graphics display showing the battle before them. It was tame at this very instant, but the Junior Captain suspected with the arrival of reinforcements, the battle would truly begin. The communications officer recited the orders back to him and the Imperial's thick brows sunk into furrows as he frowned. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Sacrificing more vessels and manpower for search and rescue? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Jaw locking, Hogrum's palm tightened around the armrest of the Captain's chair. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Disregard and break the Alliance's blockade.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Very well, open a line to the rest of the taskforce... Slow down our forward momentum, and deploy half of the taskforce's fighters."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]While the taskforce set about to their orders, Hogrum's eyes were glued to the information that the sensors brought up to him. Squinting, something popped up that didn't make sense. "What is that?" A blip popping up on the holographic display of the system and noted transponders. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Sir?" The voice of one of the other commanders inquired through the call, "We're not picking up anything."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]From the chair that he occupied, Veed slowly rose up from his chair in disbelief. The Alliance was learning, and in this newly livened rounds of battle, they had adapted quick to the Order's tactics. "Uh, stand by for coordinates..."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Erm... Enemy vessel, Sir, coming out from behind the wreck of the shipyards."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Veed's mind raced, this shouldn't have happened. [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]We have fallen, right into the Alliance's trap. This is where it ends for us.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“R-reverse!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Hogrum was certain it was already too late to act on impulse, not without sacrificing more of his own people’s lives than necessary. Watching the holographic display, he heard someone say, “Hyperdrives charging!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Shields were primed, weapons were armed, when [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"]’s gathering of vessels jumped into hyperspace and disappeared, the Junior Captain’s vessels had followed in the command of the Fleet Admiral. As [member="Robogeber"] had ordered the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Devastator [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Taskforce to follow behind him, there was a gap of space for the Alliance forces to slip through, that was human error, and when they manifested before Hogrum’s eyes and practically pointblank range, Hogrum only had one order for his battlegroup.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Fire everything we got at those ships! Give the Admiral time to come about!”[/SIZE]

[In regards to [member="Gir Quee"]'s post that I missed!]

The Machete while carrying out its task of jamming known Alliance frequencies, word was passed through the taskforce of a new hostile force coming in on one of their flanks. Typically, the reaction would've been to turn to the new threat, but the Machete maintained its position, point defense hardpoints firing upon the slugs, even as they broke apart to release hundreds of projectiles, the response seemed lax in the form of point defense batteries, until the missiles began closing in, and that's when the chaff defense system went off, soon followed by flares which gave cause for some Firelance torpedoes to veer off course and detonate prematurely, in the direction of the sandwiched enemy, being Admiral Nai.

Of course, due to the Directorate Commander's plan for all of the projectiles to strike at the same time, when the next step to the defense system activated, the missile deactivation transmitter sent out its signals, and when those concussion missiles neared, they crashed into the shields and hulls of the vessel, not detonating, but in some places it was evident they were cutting it close.

Unbeknownst to them however, were the plasma energy torpedoes, that while unguided didn't prove much of a threat, where many missed, when those that did struck detonated, the Machete's crew felt the sensation as if their ship was shaking, and there was contact on various levels, detonations throughout the ship, but blast doors and other systems worked to minimize the damage since they had already made their attempt at preventing it.

Spoiler: Devastator Taskforce

FIV Devastator - Victory - X Star Destroyer - Firing on ANS Say my Name
FIV Breaker - Stormcloud II, Assault Cruiser - Firing on ANS Say my Name
FIV Lender - Taskmaster, Escort Carrier - Deploying Half of its Fighter Complement, Defensive Screen
FIV Machete - Dagger II, Escort Frigate - Jamming Alliance Frequencies - Shield: 0% Hull: 88%
FIV Ssi-Ruuk Revenge - Raptor II, Assault Frigate - Firing on ANS Say my Name