Ya'll Done Karked Up [CIS Invasion of Barab I vs Black Suns]

[Domino]

A new pair of blips appeared on the projected space map, less than a second later they were flashed as hostile reds. Moments later each spawned out another six dots, smaller than the others. Domino watched them with interest, they were too far out to be missiles... New telemetry appeared next to them as sensors identified the pods, the nukes might take them out but, "Re-prioritize the anti-air, target those drop pods. And get Scout Recon out to where they might land. Any of them make it and they hit 'em with rockets." Scout Recon, some of the toughest guys (and lizards) around, they'd know what to do. Of course, the problem with @[member="Nocturno "]'s plan, one Domino hadn't seen yet, was that by dropping the pods on the targets, he was also dropping them right by their defenses. The same ones that would turn around and blast the pods before their slow unloading rate made them a problem.

"This keeps up and we wont even have to try reason with them." Domino joked to @[member="Hacker"] while she returned her attention to the nukes arcing through the air above the map table.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

Spinning a full circle, without an ignited lightsabre, at close range, was generally not considered good for one's health -- it was an Ataru affectation. Rather than try to do something with her blade's edge against his armor, Ashin opted to use that time by bringing the sword up into a two-handed grip, aiming to intercept whatever he was going to throw her way when he came out of the spin. That was the other problem with a spin like that: It limited angles of attack, no matter how much momentum it built.

So when his gold blade came around, clutched in his off hand, it met a solid double-handed block from her strong, rooted stance, a block that shoved it back and caught the silver blade as well. Her hips twisted left, her back foot came in, and while both his blades skittered and snarled against Winterlight, she lashed out with a Force-enhanced side kick. Some side kicks were meant to shove, some to stun, some to drive deep; this one had a very specific purpose.

To shatter his cortosis armor over his gut, and drive the pieces into his flesh. Hit or miss, that foot would then return to the ground (and, ideally, his nearest foot) with the same stomping kick that had shattered permacrete and dented starship armor.

Her right hand left the sword in the aftershocks of the twin lightsabre blows, and she smashed out a hammerfist for Josiah's right cheek or neck, an instant after the kick. Her upraised sword still warded away his blades, but only for this split second. Her moves took their place in the fight's series of transitions.

 

[Jason Sisk]

Jason prepared for the invasion, the first one he'd be a part of. Making sure he has his lightsaber at his belt, his armor under his robes, and his mask, he felt he was ready. He went for the transport that held his master, he opened the doors and entered, taking seat by himself with his hood firmly over his head.

"So, who are we aiming for again?" While not necessarily forgetting why they we're aiming for a sith, he forgot who it was. He looked towards his master, wondering if he knew.

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

The Archmaster honestly thought that he was doing well against his opponent, but that opinion came to a screeching halt when the golden blade of his left hand was shoved into the silver blade of his right. Although this was not too large of a setback, it did encourage him to take a step back...but it was not far back enough to evade the kick which was subsequently launched. Her boot collided against the Cortosis armor upon his stomach and cracked the metal under its might. If not for the presence of the hardened armorweave underneath, Josiah would have been in one hell of a predicament; but instead he would live. When she retracted her foot, some of the shards of Cortosis fell to the ground, while others imbedded into the armorweave. Some penetrated through, into his skin; not too deep, but enough to cause the Archmaster to nearly gape from the sudden pain.

This was his queue to back the kark up, and so he did, jogging back a step in order to narrowly avoid the hammerfist of his opponent. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to double over in pain, but he resisted and shut out the throbbing which characterized his abdomin. From there, he called upon the might of the Force, focusing it in order to manifest the skill which he was counted as his signature: telekinesis. Both hands flung forward, conjuring a wall of telekinetic force. This tsunami of invisible, telekinetic might was much akin to an avalanche crashing down the side of a mountain; and could easily pluck a Graug, garbed from head to toe in heavy armor, clean off its feet and send it skidding across the floor. For a woman who weighed considerably less than a Graug...and wore significantly less armor...the effect would be all the more devastating.

What's more, the upside of dueling in close proximity meant that there was not much room to leap, roll, or otherwise "uncanny" dodge out of the way of such a sudden, explosive tactic. The Archmaster sincerely hoped that his technique would have the desired effect, and send the former Sith Empress flying back, so that he might take a moment to regroup.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

Her blade fell to point at the ground as she squared herself against the oncoming blast. Her bare feet dug into the scorched, barren earth and found rock.

And she grounded herself.

There was more to it, of course. Physical enhancement at the very highest levels was required to keep her spine from shattering, her skull from bruising her brain, her eyes bursting from overpressure. But visually, though what she was doing was fairly complex and required a good deal of power, the whole mess of it could be summed up with the word immovable. As an immense cloud of parched dust roared up behind her, courtesy of Josiah's blast, Ashin filled her lungs with clear air and roared.

So as to properly and politely return the favor.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

The earth tore up around Josiah, stones ripping free, soil eroding from under his feet. The Force Bellow rippled up and out from her as a hemispherical shockwave. Few enough were her Force powers at range, and she preferred those techniques with good close-range applications. Force Bellow was a favorite, her lungs strengthened by her physical ehancement skills and then used as means of focus for an overt power, like a hand being used to focus a Push. Between the grounding and the Bellow, she was exerting a lot of power, and that would catch up with her in time, maybe tire her.

But for now, she'd just hit the whole area in front of her with an overpressure shockwave sufficient to tear sheet metal and pulp organs.

 

[Darth Metus]

The Archmaster found himself immensely surprised by this turn of events. He had, more or less, hit her with a telekinetic brick wall; but she remained rooted on the spot. To see such a feat caused a slight chill to run down the man's spine, but he quickly shook it off and placed his focus right back upon the fight. What he needed to do was create a little bit more distance between the two of them; then stick to his strengths in order to tip the scales of battle in his favor...and the perfect opportunity to do that came in the form of a Roar. Damn near spontaneous in creation, the former Sith Empress let loose a howl that exploded with an ocean of pressure and manifested as a wild shockwave. However, just as the tactic began, the Archmaster did something unexpected.

For as his saying went: "When Trouble's on the Rise? Improvise."

With such a chaotic shockwave shoving against Josiah, all he had to do was gently lean forward on his feet and bounce himself off the ground by a total of just under two inches. Whilst he did this meager, seemingly pointless act; he wrapped the Force about him and focused, creating a barrier to the best of his ability. Of course, it was not impregnable, nor was it fully formed when the Bellow struck. However, he maintained its form and allowed his improvisation to work its magic: the Force Bellow picked him up off the ground and sent him hurtling back. The Barrier shielded him from the worst effects of both the Bellow and the subsequent landing several feet back, where Josiah landed on his feet and skidded to a rough halt. Sure, some shrapnel kicked up from the shockwave had caused a few cuts to appear on the armorweave of his armor; and on his cheek.

However, the worst of the damage was simply the jarring of the shards embedded in his flesh, which caused ripples of fresh pain raging through his body. The Archmaster didn't allow himself the time to dwell upon the pain. Instead, he assumed a ready stance...and began to reach out with the Force in preparation. The injury which characterized his abdomin had inspired yet another genius maneuver on his part, but it would require a little bit of leg work. First, he began to step backwards, creating additional space, whilst his "grasp" began to wash over the very ground he tread upon. There was something nasty brewing in Josiah's kitchen, and the former Sith Empress was soon going to find out what.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien's drop-ships slowly exited the hanger. careful to avoid the blacksun toys. As they neared the ground Lucien stood up "I wan't no survivors, If you can't kill them let the sun do it". The drop ship clattered into the ground, those things had never been any good at landing. The doors fell open and Lucien walked out. He pressed the acrid earth mainly to test it's existence then walked on. He was quite near to the landing site of Ashins ship She was fighting and he would not interrupt her. He would find a toy of his own. The soldiers who had come down with him began the march off each fulfilling their own orders His fist would stay with him until such time as a suitable opponent could be found, then they would stop interference. Lucien looked up into the night to see the rough shape of a transport. There would be a force user on that transport.

He set off walking to the approximate landing area of the aforementioned Transport. Stopping meters away he watched it's decent, He picked up something rather nice in that ship a knight. He watched and as it landed he began a slow walk towards it His soldiers stayed several paces behind. His saber ignited and his left hand was raised open, up in the air when his fist dropped his soldiers would open fire.
(@[member="Isley Verd"] You wanted me, you have me)

 

[Neskar A'toll]

@[member="Moira Skaldi"]

"Bloody hell," the Mandalorian uttered, grinning at the vast fireball erupting from the ground, a large column of smoke swiftly rising from the wreckage of the star-fighter. "I don't remember them being that explosive." The overall effect was as he expected, the star-fighter was destroyed, eliminating a potential escape route for his target, and even though she had the common sense to actually get out of the way of the attack, Neskar assumed that her armour may have been damaged in the explosion. The explosion would've forced ordinary men to shield their eyes, but the Mandalorian buy'ce on his head, and the classic "T"-shaped visor were tinted, not forcing him to tear his eyes away from the flames. He glanced down, seeing the fleeting figure spin out from the wreckage. Groaning, he smacked a few buttons on his gauntlets, and the thrusters on the jet-pack reared and roared and dropped him down through the air further. The flurry of bolts soared through the air at him, thankfully, the shots were inaccurate, he judged, considering the movement and spinning motion by the wielder of the bolters altering the trajectory of the grenade rounds. Still, as he dropped down, a large clunk and a thump, then a small eruption of pain came from his lower left thigh, as the round exploded against the beskar plate surrounding his thigh. He hadn't expected it to hurt that bad, but at least now he was aware of the dangers that could befall him.

As the mercenary's jet-pack allowed him to rapidly descend from the sky, he leant his body forward so he could strafe over that weird-looking cyborg thing and release a few good bursts of the slug-thrower in his hands. The last remaining thermal detonator and the Mandalorian beskad blade clinked and clanged against his beskar'gam, a constant reminder of their availability in the oncoming fight. His speed increased, and he must've been going at a blinding pace, but he didn't wait until he was directly above the cyborg to begin firing; in fact, he squeezed the trigger of the slug-thrower rifle from about ten metres away. The rifle shook violently in his hands as he soared over whilst firing, but his training and expertise enabled him to grip it well, and at least attempt to keep a steady aim. A thick flurry of heavy slugs erupted from the barrel of the rifle, hopefully peppering the ground - and his target - with reams of thick, heavy, dense metal. Neskar didn't expect to get a direct hit, merely to suppress her from firing further, and to keep her locked down so he could engage her on his own terms.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Neskar A'toll"]

As had been said previously, simply standing and being inert during a fight was foolish. Ergo it was something Moira would not be doing. The mercenary's jetpack might allow rapid evasions of hails of explosive rounds fired from two bolters, one of them being semiautomatic and both having area effect, and allow him to quickly hover above her, but she had super speed of her own. Hence she did not oblige him by just standing directly under him throughout the entire time. The pace at which he moved might be blinding for a human, but not for someone with her processing power.

She also noted the beskad blade and the thermal detonator, but no trace of emotion, no trace of anything crossed her stoic, placcid features, she looked indifferent. Fear was such a wasteful organic thing to feel. Thus as he came in her speed increased as well and she leapt high into the air, somersaulting backwards, the ground shaking beneath her as she came down onto the ground. All the while she was firing with both her bolters, the faster firing mark two aimed at blowing the jetpack to pieces, the mark one firing out a volley right at him. The shots were well aimed, range expertly calculated, though she did not expect to score a direct hit, there should at least be damage from shockwave and shrapnel. The Mandalorian fired his powerful slug thrower rifle and sprayed the area with dense metal, many of which peppered the ground.

Despite superior speed Moira did indeed take some hits from the area effect weapon, thick pieces of metal embedding themselves in her and striking her, one striking her right thigh. The Iron Skin armourweave was not designed to be effective against slugs and thus only offered limited protection. However, beneath her the armour and the synthetic, so very human like skin, Moira was made of heavy metal that meant pretty much every part of her body was armoured. She was programmed to press on even limbs had been severed and severe damage suffered, she could not feel pain. So she twitched somewhat as the hail of rounds was unleashed and shards hit her but it did not slow her down, she did not cease firing after she landed upon the ground, bolters roaring. Briefly she put aside the mark one and grabbed a thermal detonator of her own, tossing it through the air with great strength so it should land under the mercenary, the blast hopefully knocking him out of the sky, with her quickly the mark one.

 

[Neilo Ardik]

Neilo looked on as the battle in the skies raged on with a warm smile on his face. "Sir, we've got missiles launching from the planet's surface." a member of the crew reported. "Their signatures show that they are EMP warheads." Neilo looked over as the Anti-air guns focused on the drop pods being sent by Nocturno. "Send fighters to take down those missiles and I want the fleet focusing fire on the Anti-air while they're busy with Nocturno's drop pods." Neilo ordered.

About 2 squadrons of interceptors broke off to take care of the missiles before they could detonate. Their incredible speed was helpful in the destruction of said missiles before they were able to detonate. Meanwhile, the Sector I fleet began firing all guns at the apparent AA locations, raining destruction down upon them with ease. Their destruction would be inevitable. From Neilo's fleet, the entire force would be planetside by now, engaging black sun troops. "Now that the AA is finished, ensure they aren't able to fire another missile. Locate the silos and their headquarters and blow them to smithereens." Neilo ordered before taking his seat once again.

@[member="Domino"] | @[member="Hacker"]

 

[Djonas Vile]

LOC: Rendezvous point
OBJ: Meet up with the Grand Marshal

Djonas managed to cut through Black Sun soldiers quick enough to meet at the rendezvous point with @[member="Nocturno "]and his pods. Even better, he landed near some of the Black Suns defenses. If you could call two gun emplacement defenses. Djonas and his squad of knights managed to sneak behind the gunners and slay them where they stood before being able to fire upon the Grand Marshal and his forces. "Nocturno, this is Imperial Knight Djonas. You are cleared to land." the man said into his commlink. He jumped down from the now unmanned and soon to be destroyed defenses onto the ground where the GRand Marshal would be sure to land.

@Nocturno

 

[Shinju]

"Oh I've got a lovely bunch of heads here they are sitting in a row.... short ones bald ones, some as big as your head." Shinju had gotten to the ground with the commander and run off finding who and what she could for the chainsaw to eat up. In truth all she wanted to do was get that pat on the head and those shiny steak knives promised to the ones who did the best. That meant she had to find someone to play with and there was no one sparking her interest... They all seemed so common and feeding from the emotions she could feel was enough to keep her going while she searched for some more food. Lunch maybe.

@[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Few people ever dared to speak to him in such a manner, might be because they knew his reputation. Or might be something else entirely, point is Serock had not been expecting such language from a Hippy Healer such as herself. Part of him wished to throw a knife at her and see if she would be quick enough to snatch it with her voodoo magic, another part of him respected her attitude. His superior had been hit queen the moment he rolled into the military, not this woman though. It seemed she had things quite in hand, even her husband was seemingly whipped by her. Pain welled up in his chest as he thought back to ancient times, when he had been a husband himself. But that time was long since past and that man died with his love and children. He took another sip from his drink and then put it back in his jacket.

Casually he sat in one of the remaining seats and gave the woman one of his more attractive smiles. "Well then, Mrs Mason.. let us get on with it? I am sure both of us have more important things to do then measuring the lengths of our.. equipment." Then he revealed one of the many knifes that were on his person and started playing with it. This was going to be a long journey.

@[member="Keter"] @[member="Feena Mason"]​

 

[Feena]

Feena was about to order him out of the shuttle. She had no time or patience for such blatant disregard for her rules. if he could not be part of the team, then he could stay behind. But before she could even point a finger to the exit, they were taking off.
She glanced at her husband sitting next to her, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. No. Professional. She had to be a professional.

"Weapons away while en route. Safety reasons. You understand," she instructed, automatically reaching in her pouch for another dose of anxiety meds. She was going to need more than the recommended dose for this mission...

@[member="Serock Hoath"]
@[member="Keter"]

 

[Keter]

@[member="Feena Mason"]
@[member="Serock Hoath"]

The shuttle rattled slightly as it flew through the void. He stayed quiet and calm throughout, reaching out with the Force tentatively to comfort his wife. He could be professional, but that did not mean he had to be unsupportive. Relax Queen, he communicated to her, keeping his eyes fixed on the other man. Rough in appearance, but that was certainly intentional. The swagger, the confidence. He was projecting a very certain image to them. Curious. Keter wondered why. No one was truly that two dimensional in temrs of their attitude. There would be more to his story. He could always look into that later. Until then, he would keep his wife safe.

 

[Domino]

@EVERYONE
As high as the Admiral's ambitions were, it was simply too little, too late. The missiles had already been in flight for some time and they were very fast, faster than the interceptors that had to leave their holding position, fly to the planet and into its atmosphere before even targeting the missiles. And the nukes didn't have that far to go, just up and out a bit. Twin balls of nuclear light, each a miniature sun, blossomed in the mid-atmosphere sending out massive waves of electromagnetic energy. As night became brighter than day, ships began to fall from the sky alongside the remaining drop pods, un-shielded droids fried, and personal equipment malfunctioned. Of course the Black Sun's anti-air towers went down as well but fortunately for those that found themselves in duels Domino's orders had held true. They had remained protected from any EMP by distance and lucky terrain features. Then the main doors of the underground base opened and out poured the Sun's own legions of war droids. Mercy, fear, restraint, all were an alien language to the droids as hunter packs broke off from the main body and loped off into the night to find Confederacy survivors, and make them casualties.

And for the attack of @[member="Neilo Ardik"] he had a choice, obviously the already disabled AA guns were on it (he'd already assumed their destruction as a matter of fact) but by paying attention to the tactical information his people gave him, he'd know that he now had to choose where his remaining fire would go. Missile silos scattered throughout mountain ranges laying dormant, or an underground bunker built back into a mountain built next to his last choice, a small civilian city protected by a now vastly weakened and near-failing shield. Of course that same city and its shield were why the Confederacy leadership had decided to not make this a fleet based attack, but the high admiral was apparently marching to his own drum beat.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

@[member="Moira Skaldi"]

Neskar grinned at the effectiveness of the slug-thrower. He had judged that the slugs would pierce whatever personal armour was present, but he hadn't taken into account the cybernetic structure of his opponent. He doubted she would get tired, as he may, or damaged too badly that she couldn't move, as he may. This would be a good fight. However, he deemed it necessary not to become overzealous, nor overconfident. That would be his bane, if he allowed his guard to drop, and weakness to show through.

As he soared over her, he raised his eyebrows at her speed. It was impressive, but he had expected no less from a human computer, and so it began. As she leapt into the air, firing her bolts, the rounds strafed his jet-pack, shrapnel and similar paraphernalia had damaged his left-side thruster. He grunted, as the damage made to the left thruster had forced him off-course, curving to the left sharply. He still kept the speed up, but he managed to lower it via his gauntlet to avoid spinning in a circle or two. It wouldn't be good if he was dizzy, of course. And what was next? A thermal detonator, obviously. Neskar cursed his luck as the grenade exploded half a dozen or so metres away from him, the shockwave momentarily shutting the right thruster to his jet-pack, causing him to crash to the ground, sliding across the scorched earth. The explosion had encompassed almost half of his body, but the beskar'gam had shielded him from the worse of the damage. Of course, on the exterior, the armour must've looked damaged or scorched, but it was merely ash, and would come off easily. Perhaps a few dents had been worn in by his crash-landing, but that was it. His body ached, but he forced himself up onto his knees, where he spotted his slug thrower, merely a metre from where he had came down. Grunting, he clutched the rifle, and gripped the stock and brought the cross-hairs up to his visor, where he could see through the tinted glass, through the cross-hair. From his crouched position, he aimed towards the cyborg, and squeezed the trigger in short bursts. This regimented fire, as well as his static, crouched position, would aid his aim, and he hoped it would suppress her until he got at least some back-up. He was tired of doing things on his own.

 

[Matreya]

Turning his head slowly as he stepped off the exit ramp, Zaiden smiled behind his helmet, Feenarah was here. He wondered how she was doing, last he had seen her she was pregnant. Reaching out with his mind he made a subtle connection to his sister that he flooded with love, Sister, I wish to see you on the field of peace. If I find a place free of battle can we speak? He hoped she still knew he would never harm her or any she loved, he simply felt to reassure with the promise of peace in place of battle.

During an invasion, peace was unheard of. He would change that long enough to hug his family once more.

"Ashin, I will take your command in a moment. My...sister is here." He said after pausing, he didn't want to reveal his familial weakness - even though Feena could handle her own, "If things change and you need me elsewhere, simply say so." As he spoke, he enfused the words to carry to the intended target, then turned and swiftly began making way towards his sister.

@[member="Feena Mason"] @[member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

THE SERENITY
OBJECTIVE: YEAH, OKAY, MAYBE NOT

The doors to the bridge slid open, and stretched before Hannibal was-

Holy FETH that is a whole lot of mooks.

A good number of the deckhands had sidearms as well. This was definitely not what Hannibal had been expecting. He stood there, frozen, suddenly a mook in bounty hunter's skin. Not a soul had actually seen him standing there with the doors open like that, too preoccupied with coordinating the battle and keeping watch over other technical-dohickey nonsense. Hannibal took a step back, enabling the doors to silently slide back shut. "Hey, this isn't the hangar..." He could imagine himself saying. Yeah. Easy mistake to make. With this rather large concentration of guards lurking around, Hannibal could scarcely make a case to continue his mission. It wasn't like his Fringe overlords actually knew he was here, anyway. He could probably slip out without anyone noticing. He just had to procure a hyperspace-capable ride.

There was bound to be one of those in one hangar or another. He could get out of here without having to fire a single shot, or deal with anyone really. Hannibal whirled around, briskly marching his way down the hall. He wasn't sticking around. Not for the Feds, not for the Fringe, not for the Sun, not for anyone. This whole thing smelled bad to Hannibal. It was time to bail. There was also the moral implication of slaughtering a bunch of unarmed technicians with a light machine gun, but damn it all if he was going to drop the facade of a tough-as-nails, cyborg bounty hunter to even think about that.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

@[member="Penumbra"]'s mental message whispered through the bond between Master and Hand; Ashin did not reply. Penumbra knew his business, and she had no doubt of his loyalty or his effectiveness.

Nor did she have time or focus to answer.

Whatever was coming, her gut told her she wouldn't be able to ride it out. His last push had been about as strong as she could make a telekinetic blow, and he'd done it on the spur of the moment. A telekinetic specialist, maybe. Certainly a man who focused on outward manifestations of the Force.

No, at a guess, she would go flying, or have something use her as a shockball, in about five seconds. She half-rose on the balls of her feet, and the cold hard anger within her unlocked a door she didn't often prefer to choose. A ribbon of incorporeal golden radiance connected her sword's point to Josiah's chest. She was no master of Force Drain, but she had learned from the best, and when her heart went cold she could let go of her ironclad self-discipline in that area and that area alone. Hunger roared out of her, seeking to devour not only the power which Josiah was allocating to whatever apex-level telekinetic feat he was preparing, but also to try gnawing away at his life energies.