You'll Sleep When I Say So [First Order Invasion of Outer Rim Coalition [Hex K-53] Skor II]

Griet van Vliet · Aug 10, 2018

Location: Orbit
Objective: ~~Destroy landing pods to attempt to halt the enemy advance~~ Furball fight
Allies: ORC [member="Dano Dil"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] [member="Roth Tillian"]
Enemies: First Order [member="Cynthia Alucard"]
Directly engaging: [member="The Private"]

"Poodoo! Debris is flying everywhere" Dividend commented, while the enemy was forming up to regroup.

"Let's dance: remember your training and you'll make it"

The various explosions of ships in the space battle changed its landscape so that they could briefly use said debris for cover before moving in to attack the opposing fighters once again. The lead craft turning 45 degrees forced her to make some adjustments all right, but she had to be quick in making those adjustments while debris were flying everywhere. Evading these debris forced her to re-think her approach on the spot. In doing so, she performed a barrel roll in the opposite direction from the lead craft's turning direction in an attempt to adopt a different vector to fire heavy repeaters at her opponent's radiator panels, in hopes of hitting the topside or underside. Griet also remained mindful of leading the target as appropriate and taking into account their respective trajectories, while firing a volley of those heavy repeaters, aimed at the aft quarter of that craft. As much as a split-second could make the difference between life and death, it held true regardless of the pilot's allegiance. Meanwhile, the remaining craft in the squadron split up and engaged in maneuvers such as the barrel roll, and variations on it, or even a loop, to fire, once again, at their radiator panels, from the flanks, since on ordinary TIEs, they presented the largest targets if a pilot could flank one.

Fiscal Terminator - Griet's PC craft
11 Lyulka-class elite fighters (endurance configuration)

Kyrel Ren · Aug 10, 2018

Location: Metrobig City
Allies: [member="Seto Du Couteau"]/First Order/Allies
Enemies: Alliance in Exile/Outer Rim Colliation/Allies
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilant, Vader's Bane Lightsaber
Objective: Pacify the Rebels/ Provide Reinforcements to the Palace.
Nearby: [member="Tiland Kortun"] @Itzala

https://youtu.be/U2Z04NAa65w

Kyrel ventured slowly towards the edge of the city, squads of stormtroopers accompanying them. They had moved with haste, trying to quickly make it. The Steward of the Ren's main priority was to end the insignificant rebellion that plagued the city. He would enforce the curfew personally, more dropships coming in little by little. Not far from the city, AT-STs and stormtroopers dropped. The Alliance, nothing more than a band of Rebels, and War Criminals. They were like disobedient children in need of discipline, and with the Outer Rim Collection, which had been smart not to interfere with the expansion of the First Order. They had only made things worse, first by allowing these disobedient children into their space. Offering what little remained shelter and refuge when they clearly needed to stand trial and face punishment. No matter, with the reclamation of Skor II, they would all learn the price of disobedience with one single strike of a mailed fist.

The newly dropped AT-STs marched, as Kyrel kept his approach with the Disciple of Ren. Seto thus far was proving his worth to the First Order. Proving his worth as a former Inquisitor, now a Disciple of Ren. He couldn't help but feel more pleased with the boy, as they marched. "Make no mistake, we do not wish to rule a galaxy of the dead. Civilians and that includes the Rebels. Set your weapons for stun only! Do not use lethal fire under any circumstances. Our objective is to gain control, not to have the natives hate us only to rise against us." Of course, he should know that all too well. Remembering the blunder that was the first battle of Skor II, how he was there to see the uncontrollable VX gas being used. While the First Order would take pride in developing new ways to wage war, it was proven that such a weapon did more harm than good, hence why it was banned, to begin with. No, in order to win a different method was required, the stick was tried now it was time for the carrot.

Upon entering the city slowly, a disturbance was felt quickly as a man appeared as if a shadow, quickly taking out two of the Stormtroopers, The former Inquisitor said nothing only giving him a nod. To which Kyrel returned in kind further responding pridefully. "I leave this to you then Seto.. Do not fail." He said giving him one last look, before entering the city. The walkers spread out, the entire city was in Chaos. Then it suddenly hit him, stopping his trek slowly, bowing his masked head down he muttered slowly. "I-I have felt someone I haven't felt since..." He paused as if in deep thought, his eyes snapping wide with a surprise under his mask. "Sieger!" He exclaimed joyfully. He knew that his theory held weight, and couldn't help but grin as he felt a new power coursing through his veins, the darkness as if it was liquid courage. Made him only want more. Embracing the darkness that was given him, he pushed forward, the forces that were sent to enforce the curfew following shortly behind.

The city was in chaos, The Squibs reacting violently, attacking everything in sight. The Rebels were starting to break. Others stood in fear, Kyrel drank it in he spoke a single word a feral smile spreading across his lips. "Better." The stormtroopers moved in, blaring from the walkers as they pointed their guns at the civilians in a move of intimidation, a single order coming from the speakers. "By order of the Supreme Leader, cease and desist immediately! Return to your homes, or you will be fired upon!!" Some of the civilians looked in fear and rushed immediately away from the city streets. The stormtroopers moving in slowly, targeting the Rebels blinded by rage. Kyrel had no intention of hurting the Squibs, no this time that mistake would be rectified. The troopers shot blue bolts, weapons on stun mode, knocking out the armed Squibs left and right, too caught in a blind rage to even focus. It was working to the advantage of the Order. The curfew was slowly being placed into effect. With troopers coming in from all over the outskirts of the city, the pacification was slow. With the troopers easily able to push through the outer limits, but finding it a rough grind as they cleared neighborhoods slowly, street by street block by block. It would take time but soon the First Imperials would make it and stamp out the rebels in the inner city.

He noticed a group of Rebels, who had been attacking an AT-ST, he moved quickly. Not even once activating his saber. Feeling that for now, it was largely unnecessary and hardly warranted. Stretching a gloved hand, reaching out with the newly found power provided by the Supreme Leader, instead of outright attacking them, he forced his will upon the minds of the Squibs, speaking to them in a commanding tone. "You will drop your weapons, cease and desist." Minds such as these were feeble, no match for the dark side, no match for his will. They dropped their weapons, and slowly followed along with the process. The Uprising slowly being pacified, troopers marching in file formations into the shields, taking to the ghettos and the rougher streets. Squibs retreating to find cover and putting up a light resistance One by one or being stunned by the troopers moving in slowly. The AT-STs patrolling the streets in a seek and destroy protocol for any Alliance trooper they saw along with their criminal friends. Seeing the Palace in his sights. He pressed forward slowly, transmitting across all frequencies. "Kyrel here, The uprising is slowly being pacified, the Rebels are too disorganized. We are pushing through the city." Leading the troops in the way towards the palace, taking care of those still lost within a rage, quickly stunning them. The uprising with the help of Sieger Ren was hardly a threat and only made it easy for the Order to start taking the city. As more forces dropped in outside the city.

Through the Force, he could sense that his fellow Imperials and even the Ren were in danger. He needed to arrive quickly with the reinforcements and to aid them. Most of all enforce First Imperial might on the enemies of the First Order, sensing a familiar Jedi he encountered on Lothal. He frowned as he knew, that the Jedi had a hand in orchestrating this Rebellion. All the more to see them wiped from the face of the galaxy. Focusing on the Force signature, he projected waves of darkness. The aura of the dark side canceling out the spark of light that dared ignite the civilians with the hopeless and foolish effort of fighting against those that wished no harm. The light slowly being engulfed into the dark abyss. He only spoke a single message as he projected the waves of fear into the being. "I am coming for you all!" His eyes dead set on the palace as he slowly combed through the streets, pulling his saber out.

Vestille Thumahra · Aug 10, 2018

Vestille Thumahra

Skor II, Royal Palace

Objective III: Fight To The Death

Friendly Assets: First Order ([member="Omari Vyken"], [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Varas Ren"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"]) | Nowhere nearby

Opposing Force: ORC ([member="Julius Sedaire"], [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Mishka Larraq"], [member="Jaius Sovv"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Mishel Noren"]) | Directly Engaging [member="Krenis Skirata"]

The enemy sprung himself forward. Good.

The fight that had been reduced from one against many to a simple single warrior against single warrior created a sensation akin to a bubble around the Colonel and his opponent; keeping all focus on the Commando and only him. Whilst the blade of war had carved itself deep into the surface of Skor II, sending a wave across the crust of the planet that started a blazing inferno as attackers threw themselves at defenders and their fortifications with a sole desire of conquest removing any doubt or requirement of preservation that may have lingered within their heads. War, propaganda and indoctrination to an ideal blended together to create an efficent fighting machine and, with what Vestille had seen of the First Order, their sheer will and dedication to the Supreme Leader struck cords of similarity in accordance with the banner that he himself marched under albeit the Colonel's loyalties were perhaps slightly more complicated than that. He thrived upon the battlefield like a parasite, time and time again he threw himself into conflict and allowed the smoke and the stench of death sate his desires like a drug; a monster wrapped in the guise of a professional soldier, ready to do his duty and achieve his objectives or die trying.

It was with this zeal, this desire to live through the death of others that pushed his physical form to even greater heights and above and beyond limits, limits that had been altered and uplifted through the augmentations provided by the Death Trooper program during the existence of the Galactic Empire, a home that no longer existed, his role in its demise was something he had buried deep and never spoke of but alas, its parting gift was something that turned an impressionable boy into a machine of death and conflict. It was this and the sheer devotion and zeal that Vestille pledged toward the Sith Empire and their allies as well as the doctrine that had been implanted and mutated over his journey across the galaxy that made him a force to be reckoned with; there was no empathy, no sense of morality, simply a desire to carry out his duty and bring death to his enemies until only the forces of the Dark Side prevailed.

And now one was leaping right for him.

The blaster fire had been almost without end, the cover that had been useful for a few seconds at most was now at the end of its assistance what with the numerous charred holes within the wooden structure itself. Any shots that came afterwards were sure to find their target with no real difficulty thanks to the fact that what was once solid was now shot quite literally to pieces yet rather than a barrage of blaster fire, the Commando instead decided to close the gap. As the man charged towards the ruined and burning cover, he released a stream of blaster fire from his pistols at point blank range which, considering the limited time to react, a majority of the bolts found their mark upon the Colonel's chestplate and rendered the protective armor ineffective in quite a broad area of its surface. The pain was intensified by this, Vestille hissing and feeling the bite of pain sink into his flesh and the nerves beneath, leaving a series of burning holes that if not treated soon would bring even him down to his knees, unable to fight off the killing blow to send him drifting into the void.

It was with this that spurned on a desire to hold nothing back and to fight until he or the Commando were nothing more than pieces upon the floor. Rather than trying to level the playing field between the two combatants that fought among the smoking ruins of luxury, it was clear to Vestille that an advantage had to be pressed and pressed hard before another blow could be struck against him. As the Commando burned his way through the wooden furniture to charge and perhaps pin the Colonel down into a prone position, Vestille had instead taken the momentary period to move to the side as his opponent barreled his way through into melee range; the intent being to avoid being taken to the floor and instead reach his arms out to grapple the Commando and send him towards the floor in an attempt to wind him and gain the advantage, if only for a few seconds. His plan? Disarm the Commando and defuse any possible attempts to utilize a ranged weapon in close quarters; creating an environment to fight where it would only be man against man utilizing their fists, blades and desire to live.

And only one man would leave that hallway alive.

Armand Temi · Aug 10, 2018

Location: Squib King's Palace
Objective: Engage [member="Cale Gunderson"] eventually
Allies: [member="Primat Ren"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"]
Enemies: [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Jaius Sovv"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Srina Talon"] @Assorted ORC and AIE
Armor: Power armor, Lightsaber, standard blaster

I know I heard something over here, Varas thought. As the the three stormtroopers swept room to room in this area of the Palace - a location which appeared to be a smaller kitchen and pantry of some kind, likely not the main one, the Knight of Ren crept over to the door where she thought the noise was coming from.

All of her senses heightened by the Force, she scraped her lightsaber against the the lock on the entrance and it hissed open. Four pairs of squib eyes blinked back at her, their owners lit up by the glow of her blade. It was clear by the way they were dressed that they were just staff and quite terrified.

Sighing, Varas took her eyes off of them for just a moment to see where the stormtroopers were. She knew what her father would have ordered her to do.

Slaughter them. Show no mercy.

But she often had a crisis of conscious spurred on by the sight of unabashed weakness, in antithesis to what she’d been taught about the darkside.

“Come on, hurry,” the brunette clone whispered, ushering them out of their hiding place and towards what Varas thought was an exit. One of the troopers caught sight of the squib escaping and pointed his blaster down the corridor asking, “Why aren’t you shooting them?”

She held her saber in one hand, fumbling with the blaster in the other and fired off a few terribly aimed shots as the squib family squealed and skittered down the hallway. Watching them evade the Ren and trooper, she passed by the stormie, muttering, “I have bad aim. What can I say?”

Reaching out to Primat with the Force, she lead the trio of soldiers back around to his location.

Rexus Wenck · Aug 10, 2018

Rexus' Gear:

G-12A Blaster Rifle [x]
DARKSABER VII Combat Armour [x]
Blackwing Electrosword [x]
14x Thermal Detonators
851 Launcher [x]
Lightsaber

Twigg's Gear:

DARKSABER VII Combat Armour
Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon [x]
Blackwing Electrosword
2x G6E Light Blaster [x]
8x Thermal Detonators

The two Death Troopers pressed forward through the halls of the palace. Well this was a little more exciting than he'd hoped. Rexus privately wondered if the group had some form of escape plan when Omicron confirmed it. "Gotcha!" Rexus barked, "Roll on Remus, you get rid of that thing!" Wenck snapped bitterly, before taking cover behind a pillar. He reloaded his rifle, and prepped it for the next wave of hostiles. Rexus peaked out of cover, and watched as Twigg barrelled through and down the hallway. Rexus, stood tall and put his rifle to his hip, before walking backwards, ready to spray any unwary hostiles.

However, something caught his eye. A flash out the corner, "Grenade!" Rexus bellowed. Before falling backwards. But no great impact came. There was no form of explosion. He waited five. Hell, he waited ten seconds. But nothing. No delay. The Death Trooper picked himself up, and now began to feel it. What was this? Some kind of chemical grenade? A distraction? Flashbang even? Whatever it was, it made him feel woozy. Tired even. Now he shambled, until he found the corner where Omicron was holding point. Twigg stood at the end working on the window. With one final zap, Rexus implants shut down, and the trooper's eyes closed.

Darkness enveloped Rexus' body as he slowly opened his eyes. A shallow mist had descended upon him, as he lay on the ground. He slowly began to pick himself up. The pungent odour of VX wafted through his nose, causing the Death Trooper to recoil. He tried to take account of his surroundings, but saw nothing but a deep shadow with no end. One which spread in every direction. “Rexus….” a voice echoed, it was a cold, ghostly groan which carried in the slightly on the wind. “Rexus….” it echoed again.

Wenck felt his body shudder, and the same cold sweat he had felt before, begin to permeate. His mouth went dry and he tried to find the voices source in the pitch black. Nothing. “H-hello?!” The ex-stormtrooper called out. He waited a few seconds. Nothing. Wenck’s bottom jaw and top lip met in Union. Clenched together. He tried to reach for his rifle, but found nothing. That’s when he heard the first sound of movement. A distinct thud.

“Hello?!” Rexus called into the darkness. No response. But more thuds. Increasing in pace and speed. Now he could see something. A wall of movement, the shimmering of shadows upon the ground. And it was gaining, fast. Wenck felt paralysed, he began to slowly back away, but they seemed to be gaining.

“Rexus…..” the echo called out, now more powerful than ever. It was no longer one voice. But a chorus, “You killed us Rexus….You killed ussssss…..” the melodic tone turned to a venomous hiss at the end. And Rexus’ stoic resolve didn’t hold against it. He had seen a great many things in his time as a stormtrooper, and as a special forces operator, and was keen to not find a source for the voices which plagued him.

“I-I didn’t do nothing!” The ALPHA stammered into the shadows. His muscles seemed to give way. He no longer felt the inner, primal strength which fuelled him. “I-I-I-!” A cold, clammy hand clasped down upon the Death Trooper’s shoulder. It gripped him tightly, a cold, rancid breathe now washing upon the nape of his neck.

“‘Ello boss….” a dreary voice called into his ear. Rexus broke from the grasp and pulled away. What greeted him was a sight, which caused the Death Trooper to gag. Flesh, hanging from his head, a pale shade of green. Eyes cold, and hollow, glassed over. His body, attired in the armour of a stormtrooper. But there was some recognition in those features.

“Zamel, is-is that you?” Rexus stammered, clambering back. The figure grinned, his teeth rotted and brown, maggots trailing from his mouth, as he took more steps towards him. The distant thuds, now but a memory before this menacing figure. But sure as it was, that was Sergeant First Class, Zamel Gerda. Seventh platoon of the White Wolves, a Gundark Gunner.

The figure nodded, “Been too long chief…” He drawled slowly, advancing as Rexus retreated. “Been far too long….” He continued. His words carried a weight to them. “Bet you haven’t seen us for a long time LT….”

Wenck’s face shrivelled at Gerda’s implication, “U-us?” He inquired, pointing to his chest. Gerda nodded slowly, and Rexus' arms fell to his sides, fists clenching. His heart raced a thousand miles a minute. His breathes became hitched and shorter as he watched Zamel continue.

“Yes…..” Gerda then lifted the stump of a right arm, cut short by the sabre of Supreme Commander Graush had cut him down to size, “Us….” The stump then gestured behind him, and Rexus turned. It was then, the thudding stopped. In parade formation, dozens sat. All attired in the same armour as Gerda. All, in similar states of being. The same palid green, denoting their decomposition. And all familiar faces. Zooms, Shiney, Rox, Herry, Louis….. All smited beneath the First Order’s fury after Skor. Killed by Central Commands hunger for an answer to their failure. “We all died Rexus…. Because of you…..”

“Because of you….” The crowd chanted, “Because of you….” It was deafening. Rexus felt his head pulse. He clutched it, feeling his brain pulse up and against the roar of the crowd. The roar of the dead. Wenck stumbled forwards, and to the ground. Kneeling beneath his comrades. The weight of their words hanging upon his neck.

Gerda lifted his other arm, the armour here was non existent, exposing his bony, shrivelled left arm, encased in withered skin. “We lived, and died by your orders LT….And yet you’re not with your men….Your comrades in arms!” Gerda hoarsely snapped. “We all died, when they said we went too far…...But the man who gave the order...;.The man who killed us all, lives!” He hissed.

Wenck turned and looked back, into Gerda’s beady, little eyes. For all the fire and passion in his voice, his eyes were dead. “I-I didn’t mean to….” He pleaded, “I didn’t think it’d be like that, I-I-!” A chorus of jeers erupted from the Gunners now. The dead had no patience for the excuses of the living. They were beings of vengeance.

“We died!” Gerda barked back, “We died for you Rexus! We died not fighting, but kicked to deaths like dogs in the street!” The sergeant then leered down, and yanked Rexus up by his cybernetic arm, the sergeant lifted Rexus up by his arm, leaving his body dangling by the prosthetic. “And now you serve the monster who murdered us!”

The Death Trooper struggled and squirmed, before stopping, and making eye contact with Gerda. He could not keep the staring contest up. He could not match the gaze of those whom he let down. Rexus wilted, and looked away shamefully, “We could’ve built a future boss…” Gerda whispered, the hate gone, “We could have had it good. Back on Dosuun, back on Avalonia. Home.” The stormtrooper threw the Death Trooper to the ground, leaving him sprawling. “But we’re dead…”

Rexus looked up at his comrade, “Zamel, I’ll make this up to you! I swear!” Wenck protested, “I’ll make it up to you!” He then turned to his sallow faced comrades, “All of you!” He frantically turned back to the crowd of his comrades. Rexus could feel tears welling in his eyes, “All of you! I failed you once, I won’t again!” He deliriously howled into the wind.

Gerda then turned his back, as did the others, “Then prove it.” Gerda hissed, his head turning back to match Wenck's gaze. A great mist now descended upon them. The footsteps fell away into the shadows. “Win.”

Rexus woke suddenly, and startled. He felt his body quiver, and buzz as the electrical shock exited his system. "Come on arseface!" Twigg grunted, he had torn the window shutter off of its hinges, peeling it back with nothing but the brute strength afforded to himself and his armour. "We're leaving." Rexus picked himself up off of the floor, and hauled his rifle up. He turned around, ensuring no one saw what had happened. He couldn't be sure, but he was shaken. What was that? Was that even real? It was surreal at least. He could hear the distant ignition of a lightsaber. They didn't have long.

"Alright boys, we have our opening, lets hoof it!"

He would not fail. Not again. Not ever.

No. Half. Measures.

Jorus Merrill · Aug 10, 2018

[SIZE=11pt]LOCATION: Edge of the battlefield[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]OBJECTIVE: Survive[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]ENEMIES: FO, directly engaged with [member="Karl Von Strauss"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]ALLIES: ORC, AiE, attn: [member="Jada Raxis"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]FORCES: Howlrunner Fleet[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Command ship: S.S. Gossamer (1500m, shields low)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]2x assorted generic rusty Star Destroyers (4000m total) - Jacquelle (destroyed), Termagant[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]4x assorted generic rusty heavy cruisers (3500m total) - Montes, Rousse, Volte (crippled), Diderre[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]6x assorted generic rusty corvettes (900m total) - Ravenous (destroyed), Mortain (destroyed), Vnukk, Tojarra (destroyed), Sedic (destroyed), Bluett[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Fighter/interceptor/bomber complement: Average and balanced and rusty and somewhat hurting[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Total length: 9900m before losses[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I couldn’t take much pleasure in watching the Jacquelle’s bits flay the guns off that Star Destroyer. Get moving fast enough, doesn’t matter if it’s durasteel or a body, and the few folks left on the Jacquelle had been moving plenty fast. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Wasn’t too long after that when the Gossamer came alongside that same Star Destroyer, close enough to read FIV WHITE on the side. Then we slid behind’em, broadside towards their engines, right in their blind spot. This position wouldn’t last, and it wasn’t like we could hit’em too hard: the Gossamer’s got great shields but she’s real poor in the big guns department. Hanging here would make us a sitting duck for the other two destroyers -- or any other big First Order ships that came knocking. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Yeah, not tenable, but it was never meant to be, y’follow?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The next set of orders choked me up, not ‘cause of emotion but because the First Order brought the BIG BOAT. I’ve seen some serious ships in my time, even commanded the five-k-by-five-k Spirit of Druckenwell before she got that name, but I’ve never seen anything like that one. Telesponder called her the Wrath and I believed it. I didn’t envy the main battle, nosirree. I mean, I hadn’t envied’em since I’d seen Thuku’s flagship turn into a fireball, but yeah. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Big picture, we were outnumbered, no two ways about it. But the big picture wasn’t my job. My job was a knife fight, little fleet to little fleet. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Time for a sucker punch.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I gave the order. The lot of us watched a couple dozen gray dots move between my starboard flank and the White’s hindparts. All them holes meant the particle shields -- or the particle component of the deflector shields, whichever they had -- were in bad shape and then some. And the thing with Star Destroyers is, they don’t have crap for rear coverage. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Bottom line, I was expecting those [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]boarding droids[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] to get onboard no sweat. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Yeah, things weren’t looking too bad, right up until the White did something you’d have to see to believe. What a great stunt. Buddy got rammed in the ventral prow, just out of our line of sight, and started flipping up like a pancake. Hooboy were we gonna get hurt, because yeah, you can turn the big guns backwards and sort of fire back up along the dorsal slope if you tilt far enough. I’ve pulled that myself, minus the ram thing. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Yup, no way around it, we were gonna get hurt. So I figured I’d throw things off a bit -- you know, share the pain.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Gossamer’s not much of a warship. She’s a bulk cruiser, proper speaking: half a fighter, half a freighter. She’s got all kinds of reinforced repulsors for heavy-G landing, she’s got tensor fields, she can deal with stress. She’s also maneuverable as balls.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]We rolled ninety degrees to port, put our belly right up toward the White’s hind end, and slammed those gigantic repulsors into overdrive.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The goal wasn’t to move us. The goal was to move the White, all physics-like. See, a repulsor’ll push equal-and-opposite; the Mandos use’em in gloves to fake a Force push. The White’s center of mass got moving, and its rotational velocity did too. If the ventral ram stunt had turned it into a slow-motion pinwheel, our repulsor blast had just hammered the aft dorsal end to speed that pinwheel up. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Here came the pain. The White did her stunt, and some bombers did their thing too. That barrage took our shields down to just north of twenty percent, which ain’t much fun when you’re tied up like that. But the poor old White kept on flipping like a coin, one hundred percent pitch. Objects in motion stay in motion, right? I wondered what that sucker would run into. Maybe those Sabers protecting it, just for starters. Maybe her ventral stern had just crashed into the ship that shoved her in the first place.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Anyways, the Gossamer got a little distance out of the bounce, so it wasn’t gonna be us. But the White’s scarred-up front end came down and missed us by the hair off a gnat’s butt. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The rest of the fight was real blobular. The Termagant didn’t have cover from the Jacquelle anymore, and it got to close-range slugging against the smaller but newer FIV Belle. She’d do fine. The Volte was hurting -- couldn’t move, couldn’t evade the flagship’s big guns. A couple more corvettes popped like balloons, maybe his, maybe mine. I couldn’t tell, and without comms, I wasn’t gonna get the update anytime soon. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But here came the bright side. The Montes, the Rousse, and the Diderre, all of’em hurting, but all of’em serious heavy cruisers. They swarmed the Belle, concentrating fire with the Termagant and trying to take some pressure off’er. [/SIZE]

Julius Sedaire · Aug 10, 2018

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBYKdmgB2Ro

Gear:

"Cyar'ika..."

Seeing her was a hammer to his gut that impacted about a second before the blaster bolt did. The words were out before he could stop them, by reflex almost. Reaction and danger sense had him reaching for his lightsaber, but the handle fell from suddenly numb fingertips as he fumbled, catching it barely. He had been so distracted by her he hadn't seen it coming, everything else had fallen away. Now he stood, having been jerked back into the opposite corridor by one of the Alliance men. The scorched armor and suit were obvious, as was the spreading stain of blood on his gut which he fought to act as if wasn't there. Eyes and face slipped into a practiced mask of cold and unfeeling. Sometimes love never really died, and other times you had to kill it yourself.

There was a snap and hiss of a violent green blade igniting in his hand. He knew all the mercenaries hired to be here, and he knew beyond a doubt she wasn't here to in any way help forces he was tied to. She was stubborn that way, mule-headed. But still, before personal matters existed, and the sudden presence of Coren coming to mind cause him to linger in eye-lock for a moment, before tearing his eyes away. Duty came before pain, and when he spoke, gesturing to the Judges, his voice was cold and dead, void of emotion.

"Bind her, but leave her to my care. Be sure to bind her ankles and her hands together, please"

Then, for a moment, his eyes softened as he met her gaze. Regret warred with pain there, but the mask came down again after speaking.

"Just accept it. We'll release you back to your Empire, unharmed, after all of this."

A hint of pleading traced his words. If she fought, it was clear by his stance and face that he wouldn't hesitate to strike her down. But Coren, who knew him best perhaps of anyone but Keira, could feel the pain and misery he had bottled inside of him as he watched the Judges move to bind his former wife.

"We need to get to the King, and evacuate. They may or may not be able to take the city, but even if they do, we can drag this out for months or years of guerrilla warfare. This planet is practically made for it. Hopefully, I have friends on the way to help us too..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere, on the outskirts of space, a single white vessel appeared. At the moment, it did not engage nor appear to be plotting to. It sat just outside of the battle, watching and waiting. The Monks of the Rift were known to be inscrutiable.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Kou'ha Escala"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Robogeber"] [member="Karl Von Strauss"] | [member="Gromm Cardan"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Val Kordova"] | @Cyrus Tregessar | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] |

Omari Ngao · Aug 10, 2018

Location: Palace of the Squib King, Third Floor.

Objective: Pending.

Allies: [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Tobias Wrynn"]

Enemies: [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], @Mshel Noren, [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Julius Sedaire"], [member="Mishka Larraq"]

Equipment: FO-X1 Infiltrator Armour, DE-39 Maser Rifle, A.P.D (Pouches), Vishnu Military Shield, Electro Chain-Whip.

Feth. I'm still alive, huh?

Omari's fists clenched as he rested on ground of the Palace floor. They had been so close to the Throne Room, and he had ended up being right. A trap. Still, they had walked right into it. Haunted for the rest of my life. Feth. But some part of him suspected that he wouldn't be alive much longer. Execution? Probably, it was a result he expected per all the orders of training he had received. Imprisonment in the Order was basically death. Not always in the literal sense, but death of the person you had thought yourself up as. A twisted image to fit the story the Bureau had set out for you.

His armoured glove dragged across the floor, up into his vision as he blinked his eyes open. The heads up display pinged movement on his peripheries, and without turning his head, his gaze locked on the too small form of the Armoured Ren in some side room. Vyken grunted, lifting his waist so he'd raise his body off of his maser rifle while his IFF identified and tagged them as a friendly. Little late for reinforcements. Were he not injured, there would've been actual emotion behind his thoughts, but now, it all added up to 'it is what it is.' He had helped the others, and now it was his time to help himself.

The glop grenade had gone off, working as it was intended; buying his team extra time to escape. Now it was time for him to help himself for once.

I ain't a Specialist for nothin', right?

"Let's get out of this dump," he declared to himself in the privacy of his own helmet. His hands rose, planting onto the floor and pushing himself up. His leg felt weak, but he persevered. Adrenaline, the armour working its magic to attempt healing him, his own mind saying enough was enough, it was time to move on. He reached out, catching hold onto a wall's tapestry again, pulling at it to gain some semblance of balance before he lurched forwards on unbalanced feet to press against the wall of the corridor. His comm line lit up with a recognizable voice, it was the Colonel's. Inside, he felt a surge of emotions ranging from anger, to annoyance, to relief, and then back to annoyance when he realized that the man was still inside the building.

The only reason he could feel the last one again, and feel himself heating up inside his suit, was because the Storm Commando was pinged in his helmet's display to just be a few metres away. "You better be here 'cause you got an exit," his tone suggested that he was definitely none too happy. Omari was ready to die on his own terms... And dying in this place? Wasn't them. The day would come, he knew, but if he could help it, it wasn't today. "Cover me," he said, and he pushed off the wall, forcing himself to take the needed steps to cross back over to the Colonel and the Death Troopers who weren't content with waiting at all. Like they were in a hurry or something. These guys got the awareness of Auxiliary troops.

T-3 · Aug 10, 2018

Tagge Survey Site
Objective: Disable Bestial Organics
Allies: ORC | AiE | [member="Alm"] | [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Cambria Zadira"] | [member="Sol Stazi"]
Enemies: FO | [member="Racosidae"] | [member="Castiel Moncrief"]| [member="Hatori Ikari"] | [member="Decima Fortan"] | [member="Rhun Trask"]

T-3 had little time to react to the Amazonian speaking to it.

The droid had not landed on top of the woman on purpose, and causing her harm had been an unfortunate side effect. Had it a voice to speak with T-3 might have apologized, though if that were the case they would never have fallen through the ceiling in the first place.

Either way the droid moved off the woman as quickly as it could, taking a single thunk of a step into the sandy ground. There was no time to breath or even get a scan of the area around the two of them however, mostly because as soon as it moved a bestial roar erupted from the left. One of the Graug had peeled it's way off the horde and rushed towards the two new arrivals, quickly followed by another of it's skin. The HUD within T-3's field of view blared red, and then the droid moved.

With reactions speed brought on by exacting programming T-3 ducked slow, dodging the crude blunt weapon held by the Graug.

Half a heartbeat later the droid swooped upward, it's phrik fingers raised upward as they quickly pierced through the underside of the monsters jaw and up into it's skull. The beast let out a squeal, blood spilled down T-3's arm, and then the droid retracted it's hand. Like a ragdoll the body fell onto the floor with a loud thud, giving the droid just enough time to draw it's blaster before another one of the bestial organics fell upon it.

T-3 didn't even notice the First Order Soldiers coming towards them until the bright purple blade of one of their force users pierced through the Graug that it was facing. In an instant the droid turned, raising it's weapon towards the new threat but hesitating.

Were they friend? Foe?

The droid dug into it's databanks but found no information on what it saw. Lost, T-3 looked at Alm for guidance.

Keira Priest · Aug 10, 2018

Location: Palace grounds; floor 3
Objective: 3; is heartbreak and objective?
Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Tobias Wrynn"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | FO
Enemies: [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Jaius Sovv"] | [member="Krenis Skirata"] | [member="Vaudin Miir"] | ORC
Music

"Of all the lies I have ever lived, my favorite was you and I."

It almost broke her entirely, hearing him speak those syllables in that imperfect accent that never failed to make her smile. Now it caused a thread of emotion to rise in the back of her throat and nearly choked the breath from her, tears stinging her eyes. An unsteady exhale preceded her words, the grip on her rifle unwavering, its presence the only thing keeping her grounded in whatever hell this was. "Don't ever call me that. You lost that right, dar'riduur." Keira spoke before any kind of thought as to what was being said, impulse taking over before any coherent thought as to how to deal with this crossed her mind. There was no coherent way to deal with this, no self-help book for what to do if you met your ex-husband on a battlefield, and opposite sides no less.

Despite her harsh words a flicker of concern flashed across her face at the sight of the blood that saturated his abdomen. She almost took an instinctive step forward before forcibly reminding herself that it wasn't her job to protect him anymore; quite the opposite, in fact, as if she could bring herself to hurt him. And that's what fueled her anger at the moment, the fact that she couldn't hurt him, because something about him still meant something when all it should have done is stirred apathy and a tense hatred. But it didn't. Some part of her still cared, still remembered his gentle touch and the quietly whispered 'I love yous' at night and the hoarsely murmured ones as they woke up. Her conscious mind had yet to catch up with what he'd done, still torn between the hurt and the comfort both that his presence offered.

Reality caught up with her all at once as those that accompanied him stepped forward towards her, and she shifted backwards, rifle raising once more. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your hands to yourself. If I wanted him dead we wouldn't be having this conversation." Her eyes shifted to him, and the harsh, emotionless gaze rendered her speechless for a beat. "You know me." She hated that was still true. "I go with you, it's on my terms. They touch me, they catch a bullet for their trouble." Her voice was deceptively even, but he would hear the emotions that crashed in turbulent waves just beneath the surface.

From beneath the T-visor she traded looks with the Judges, refusing to back down. He might have broken her in places others couldn't hope to reach, but these others, the ones she only knew as the enemy? No, she wouldn't hesitate to fell every single one of them if they came close enough, because at least maybe that would provide release from the storm that had been brewing inside her for far too long. Begrudgingly her weapon returned to low-ready, but it didn't leave her grasp. Not yet, and not until they left the battlefield.

"I'll only ask once. And this comes with terms." She didn't - couldn't - wouldn't say his name again. But she couldn't quite manage to give him a moniker that would forcibly distance her. Dar'riduur hurt enough to actualize, and hearing that damn pet name again cut deeper than she would admit. Her peaceable deference was the only favor he'd get, and even then just barely.

Elena Lowe · Aug 11, 2018

Location: Skor II, Metrobig City Refugee Camp.
Objective: Try to get away.
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]
Equipment: SB-U01 Wrist Datapad | C-51 Charric Pistol

Relax? How was she supposed to relax when she'd been captured by hostile forces, one of which could use the Force to paralyse her? It was ridiculous, and it was clear that the woman knew she was in control. For the moment, the pair had power over her life and death. Only time would tell what her fate would be; Whether it would be a forgotten prison in an Outer Rim backwater, or pressed down on a chopping block as the plasma axe made its final descent.

The ethereal grip on her body ceased slightly, and though she found herself still immobile, Leah let out a small relieved sigh as her muscles once again took on the familiar weight of her flesh and bones. Grimly, the pink-skinned woman ordered her to be searched, and the man stepped forward to comply with her instructions. She looked ahead with a fixed gaze as her maser was removed and disabled, gritting her teeth as the life was taken from the weapon.

With gritted teeth and muscles tensed, she stood trapped as her searched her. Thankfully, he was quick and professional. As the blue-eyed man fiddled with the clasps on her wrist datapad she winced. It would be bad news for the camp.

When the man stepped forward, tying her arms, a glint of metal at the man's belt caught her eye. It's shape was instantly recognisable. They were both Jedi.

Looking straight into his eyes, she spoke.

"You shouldn't have done that. Taken the datapad I mean, are you stupid?"

She took in a deep breath. She didn't want trouble here, she really didn't. These people had been through enough already, without bringing the Order to this ragged camp amid a ruined section of city. But that's what was going to happen, the moment the datapad slid off her forearm she knew.

"I'm hooked up to the Order's communications system. When you took off the datapad, you severed my biometrics feed. They'll think I'm dead."

She paused a moment, seeing if they understood, then continued.

"Look, I'd say you have a few minutes at max before a fully armed recovery team lands at this position."

Leah pictured the AAL landing, and a dozen soldiers bursting into the camp. The panic, the inevitable resistance. The needless death. Perhaps it wouldn't happen like that, not exactly anyway. Long range comms were jammed shut, and local was patchy at best. Still, there was a high chance that any patrol teams in the vicinity would soon be here to recover her.

Hopefully her captors would do the right thing.

Kahne Porte · Aug 11, 2018

Location: Palace
Allies: [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Mishel Noren"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Enemies

Engaging) [member="Primat Ren"] [member="Varas Ren"] - [member="Sieger Ren"] (Indirectly)
Equipment:Armor(See Signature), Standard Lightsaber

The Jedi's attack with the force struck as he was hoping it would, however in retaliation one of Primat's soldiers opened fire against him. Kahne brandished his blade as the fire was deflected and the Jedi rolled to his side and prepared another attack that was when his opponent declared his intent face him on his own. Kahne stood up straight as he watched Primat slowly approach him. He entered into a defensive stance and then something happened to him that was indeed strange.

Within a brief seconds the scene around the Jedi Master shifted, and Kahne didn't realized it at first not until he heard some screams and shouts from close by. Smoke was rising from the surrounding area, and the Jedi's stance shifted. He glanced around for a brief moment and realized he was on Lothal. The Jedi Master stood steadfast, stopping suddenly in a particular direction when he caught glimpse of who was in front of him.

[member="Sieger Ren"]

Kahne narrowed his eyes towards him for a moment and realized this was just a vision, but he could sense his presence. Faint as it was, but Sieger Ren had indeed returned. The Jedi Master was sure that he perished on Lothal. Kahne focused his energy seeing through the visions finally, right at that moment Primat had closed in.

Mara D'Lessio Merrill · Aug 11, 2018

Location: Metrobig Interplanetary Blastport
Objective: Prevent massacre
Allies: ORC
Enemies: FO, engaged with [member="Azula Merr"]

One hundred fifty seconds, presuming honesty, and then a whole lot of people would die. One hundred fifty seconds to get in that room, assuming the voice’s owner was inside. Mara set the timer on her wrist chrono.

For about the hundredth time this week, she reached out to the Force and felt nothing of substance. The empathic senses she'd inherited told her that someone nearby felt powerful, maybe sadistic, maybe amused. The dead Squibs’ fear and pain faded away, giving Mara a slightly clearer sense of her enemy.

Enemy, singular. There could still be droids or Vong or some such, but she only felt the one mind nearby. Reasonable odds, if she'd had a weapon handy.

140.

What did she have to work with? Some tools, an ultra-durable micronized-beskar coat, a good pair of boots -- no, she knew all that. What else? A couple decades as a mechanic, an ORC-affiliated security block…

...and a familiar model of antipersonnel turret that wasn't currently keyed to shoot the unarmed.

130. Ten seconds to shutdown, presuming honesty. The distant, general mood of fear and anger grew heavy.

Out the door, sprint, insulated multitool flipping through configurations. Black cables strung through the joint.

121. Snip.

The turret -- only one in sight -- sagged on its mount. No shutdown signal received, no power coming through either. Mara switched her multitool config and started unscrewing the turret from its ceiling track.

That sense of fear and anger was growing stronger. Much stronger. Someone powerful was fuelling the Squibs’ rage. And some portion of them didn't take kindly to the ultimatum. People were going to get themselves killed.

As the claimed two-minute grace period started, Mara kept working on the dead turret's wires. What else could she do?

Other than wait for the potential tidal wave of supernaturally infuriated Squibs, of course. Talk about your mixed blessings.

Mazik Stazi · Aug 11, 2018

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3zvVGJrTP8[/youtube]

Command Deck

ANS Nemo's Revenge

Alliance Core Fleet

"Confirm effect on target!"

"She's still standing, Admiral," Commander Bashir blinked his amphibious eyes in mild amazement, "Can't be much fight left in her though."

Somehow the FIV Svalinn had managed to defy their broadside, heavy turbolasers and mass drivers scouring the First Order battle line and succeeding if only in throwing their enemies ranks into further disarray. The Imperials were scrambling now, but Fleet Admiral Stazi had but only a few scant moments to savor his triumph, before a bright flash off their port bow and dire reports from his bridge crew confirmed what the craggy old duros had already feared. They had arrived just moments too late.

"The Excubitor, sir...she's gone."

"Status report!" he demanded at once from his second in command, "All captains report in over lascom!"

"Looks like the Javelin and Aggressive Negotiations took the worst of it," Bashir relayed in a precise, unemotional tone, "Javelin is rallying, but the Negotiations' shields are out, damage control teams are busting humps to patch her keel. Should she fall back?"

"We can't afford the gap in our lines. Tell her captain to hold."

Mazik's crimson eyes rapidly scanned back and forth across the holographic spatial projection of Skor's orbit rising up before him, parsing each blip across his screen that signified a shift in both allied and enemy position. They had not been fast enough to save Admiral Thuku's command, and yet it was a pyyrhic victory for the Empire, for in finally vanquishing their most hated nemesis, Imperial forces had essentially bared their necks to him. He ordered their returning U-Wing transports to immediately begin search and recovery operations, experience had taught them all too well how the First Order Navy loved to target unarmed escape pods.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked himself as much as his executive.

"We appear to be...winning, sir."

An unusual sensation, to be sure. During the war, the First Order Navy had seemingly confounded them at every term, leveraging their military industrial complex to supply them with greater and greater numbers. No matter how many turbolaser barrages the Alliance had unleashed, their enemy simply shrugged them off and pressed in for the kill. Mazik could see already that Imperial shield systems were as resilient to heavy firepower as ever, yet this time it appeared as though the entire Outer Rim arrayed against them was finally proving enough to overcome that advantage with sheer grit and determination.

And then the FIV Invictus appeared out of empty void, lobbing a return barrage of turbolaser fire at Coalition and Alliance vessels all around them. Stazi turned to the Mon Cal, and glowered.

"That's...that's not my fault," Bashir managed weakly.

"Whatever you say, Commander Jinx," he snapped, "Reroute power to defensive systems! Bring us back around behind the Absolution."

"We're retreating, Admiral? Already?"

Mazik glowered once more at his second, "What do you think?"

"I think your rules of engagement stand," the Mon Cal reasoned out from his superior's reaction, "We fight em till we can't."

"There's hope for you yet, Jinx. Prepare to divert main power to the AIAS array."

Bashir nodded enthusiastically, comprehension finally dawning. Bracing for a barrage on their main lines at any moment, the admiral recalled all assault craft and attack wings. Ordering their massive starfighter contingent to harry any Imperial vessels from Imperator Command or Task Group Orion which might seek to seize upon this sudden opportunity of the Core Fleet's backsides, all other vessels under Mazik's direct command were reassigned to targets within the Invictus' support fleet.

Even the Revenge couldn't stand up for long in a prolonged engagement with these super star destroyers, but all they had to do was hold their ground for just a little while longer, and in doing so prevent a total collapse of the Alliance battle lines. Once the AIAS array was active, there would be time for them to breathe. Both Alliance and Coalition warships could regroup under its protective aegis, possibly even use the extremely resilient deflector bubble to whittle the First Order down piecemeal.

The Empire still measured success in terms of systems conquered, but Admiral Stazi and his Core Fleet were beyond that now. Mazik measured success in how badly he could make his enemy bleed. By his reckoning, win or lose the field, today was already looking like a very good day.

Alliance Core Fleet

ANS Nemo's Revenge | Modified MC85 Star Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Retreating back behind Core Fleet frontline. Powering up AIAS Shield Array.

ANS Absolution | Citadel-class Star Defender
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting firepower onto FIV Dragoon ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Faith Organa | Endurance II-class Fleet Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Javelin | Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser
Shields: 70%
Hull: 96%
Actions: Damage control operations from ANS Excubitor shrapnel.

ANS Beskad | Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting firepower onto FIV Dragoon ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Bulwark | Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting firepower onto FIV Dragoon ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Aggressive Negotiations | Dreadnought MK III Escort Cruiser
Shields: 0%
Hull: 85%
Actions: Defensive posture flanking ANS Javelin. Damage control operations from ANS Excubitor shrapnel.

ANS Timeless | Dreadnought MK III Escort Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Defensive posture flanking ANS Bulwark.

ANS Thyferran Dawn | MC42 Star Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on FIV Dragoon. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Mon Cala Forever | MC42 Star Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on FIV Dragoon. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Free Voss | MC42 Star Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on FIV Dragoon. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Byllurun | Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Slime Sea | Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Mount Keff | Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Dragon Guard | Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Remember Eriadu | CR-37 Corellian Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Bloodstripe | CR-37 Corellian Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Dulvoyinn Hymn | CR-37 Corellian Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Socorro Spirit | CR-37 Corellian Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Gus Talon | CR-37 Corellian Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Shifting along with main battle line.

ANS Rivers of Arbra | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Twilight Horizon | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Loth Cat | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Rancor Claw | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Deciever's End | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Lightkeeper | Nebulon-D Escort Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Imperator Command to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Cavalier | CR112 Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Shogun | CR112 Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Tantive IX | CR112 Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Goliath | Hammerhead Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Calypso | Hammerhead Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Titan | Hammerhead Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Spirit | Hammerhead Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

ANS Indomitable | Hammerhead Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Actions: Diverting course from Orion Task Group to fire on Vindicator escort cruiser 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

Intercept Aurek | Dirigible-class Corvettes x5
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
Actions: Disengaging from Orion Task Group, rerouting firepower towards Velox Gunship 'Aurek'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

Intercept Besh | Dirigible-class Corvettes x5
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
Actions: Disengaging from Orion Task Group, rerouting firepower towards Velox Gunship 'Besh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

Intercept Cresh | Dirigible-class Corvettes x5
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
Actions: Disengaging from Orion Task Group, rerouting firepower towards Velox Gunship 'Cresh'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

Intercept Dorn | Dirigible-class Corvettes x5
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
100 / 100
Actions: Disengaging from Orion Task Group, rerouting firepower towards Velox Gunship 'Dorn'. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])

Total Meterage: 20,090m

Starfighter Command

Attack Wing One
1 Squadron X-83 TwinTails
2 Squadrons Sprite X-Wings
4 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
1 Squadron Preybird Heavy Starfighters
2 Squadrons D-Wing Fast Bombers
3 Squadrons BB-2 Fighter Bombers
1 Squadron SF-17 Heavy Bombers
Actions: Aborting bomb run on Orion Task Group, forming into flanking screen to cover Core Fleet's tactical shift away from Imperator Command and Orion Task Group.

Attack Wing Two
1 Squadron X-83 TwinTails
2 Squadrons Sprite X-Wings
4 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
1 Squadron Preybird Heavy Starfighters
2 Squadrons D-Wing Fast Bombers
3 Squadrons BB-2 Fighter Bombers
1 Squadron SF-17 Heavy Bombers
Actions: Aborting bomb run on Imperator Command, forming into flanking screen to cover Core Fleet's tactical shift away from Imperator Command and Orion Task Group.

Attack Wing Three
1 Squadron X-83 TwinTails
2 Squadrons Sprite X-Wings
4 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
1 Squadron Preybird Heavy Starfighters
2 Squadrons D-Wing Fast Bombers
3 Squadrons BB-2 Fighter Bombers
1 Squadron SF-17 Heavy Bombers
Actions: Aborting bomb run on Imperator Command, forming into flanking screen to cover Core Fleet's tactical shift away from Imperator Command and Orion Task Group.

Attack Wing Four
1 Squadron X-83 TwinTails
1 Squadron Sprite X-Wings
3 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
1 Squadron Preybird Heavy Starfighters
2 Squadrons D-Wing Fast Bombers
3 Squadrons BB-2 Fighter Bombers
Actions: Continuing to harry Orion Task Group fighter screen, forming into flanking screen to cover Core Fleet's tactical shift away from Imperator Command and Orion Task Group.

Attack Wing Five
1 Squadron X-83 TwinTails
1 Squadron Sprite X-Wings
3 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
1 Squadron Preybird Heavy Starfighters
2 Squadrons D-Wing Fast Bombers
3 Squadrons BB-2 Fighter Bombers
1 Squadron SF-17 Heavy Bombers
Actions: Continuing to harry Imperator Command fighter screen, forming into flanking screen to cover Core Fleet's tactical shift away from Imperator Command and Orion Task Group.

Defense Wing One
5 Squadrons A-Wing Interceptors
3 Squadrons Preybird Heavy Starfighters
Actions: Shifting defensive screen to focus on incoming fighters from new arrivals.

Defense Wing Two
5 Squadrons A-Wing Interceptors
3 Squadrons Preybird Heavy Starfighters
Actions: Shifting defensive screen to focus on incoming fighters from new arrivals.

Dropship Wave
40 U-Wing Transports
12 U-Wing Gunships
2 Squadrons Sprite X-Wings
2 Squadrons CF10 Crossfires
Actions: Payload delivered, returning to outer orbit. Gunships remain behind, continue to patrol city limits for targets of opportunity.

Total Squadrons: 80 (960 craft)
Total Transports: 52

Summary of Actions

ANS Javelin and ANS Aggressive Negotiations take splash damage from exploding Excubitor on their flank.
Alliance Core Fleet calls back attack runs on Task Group Orion and Imperator Command, all fighter squadrons are retasked with covering this retreat.
Main battle line shifts to align with FIV Invictus and its support contingent.
Fast attack vessels dispatched to harry First Order counterparts flanking Invictus, main battle line targets FIV Dragoon. ([member="Gromm Cardan"])
ANS Nemo's Revenge pulls back behind frontline Scythes to the Absolution's rear flank, begins powering up AIAS Shield Array.

Vorhi Alestrani · Aug 11, 2018

Location: Shield generator
Objective: Time to go crazy
Enemies : [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Rexus Wenck"] [member="Tobias Wrynn"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Ren"] [member="Primat Ren"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Elian Keyes"]
Allies : [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Joza Perl"] [member="Darth Metus"] and everyone else, I've lost track

Vorhi gazed as yet another wave of emotion came down upon the planet. Hatred. The raw, wicked hate that empowered dark siders was now being funneled through the whole of city. Vorhi couldn't stop it. He couldn't steal it. He wasn't that good. This much power would overwhelm the entire city, unless it suddenly grew in population....

The blind monk grinned. Of fething course that was the right answer. He walked out of the arch, moving away form the shield generators for now. It was time to show them what he saw. It was time to put the curse of the Beast of Druckenwell to good use.

Force meditation was potent, and complex. Very few mastered it, and even fewer really controlled it. And truth be told, neither [member="Boda"] nor [member="Sieger Ren"] hadn't been all that concerned with the interaction of both their abilities, or maintaining control. Vorhi took out a small knife, avoiding any major veins, cutting his arm and drawing a small circle with blood. Primitive, derivative of a Dathomiri witch's circle. However, in an area of this much power, a simple ritual circle would be entirely enough, the monk thought as he sat down. He focused, sending one last directive to Tilund.

I must help them help themselves. This rage will not consume them—our opponents have overextended, and now I must react. However, I must live a little longer yet. Defend the shields, but do keep them off me for now, if it is possible.

The Squibs would not feel the simple rage of the dark side. Nor would they feel the innocent need of the Space Whales to further themselves, to perpetuate their species. No. These instincts would unite. The desire to sire a family, and the passion to protect it. The need to love, and the will to hold it close. The first step was not to try and endure or redirect the whole of either either spell, but to blend them, into one monsoon, like two storm fronts bending along the sea of emotion that was a war.

In a rough, backwater stage, made from impromptu supplies, a song would start to play, for reasons no one would know in years to come. An anthem to the Coalition. A voice, remembered would play out on the speakers of the city, reverberating through the shield generator's, ringing through the city.

[youtube]https://youtu.be/7DiWxcilWtU[/youtube]

~Meanwhile, at the Market~

Zef Halo would likely have already seen it. His kin, bloodied and bruised. However, Vorhi was not content to let this man watch such torture. Vorhi was no master of meditation or mentalism, but one single target, one finger on one scale, was enough. One technique that Vorhi knew well enough to do drunk and half-awake. One technique that Vorhi could happily focus on a man who's heart cried in response to this emotional torrent of filial piety.

Force body.

For one brief moment, Zef would get a spark of raw energy. It'd hurt like hell. It'd make him miserable the next day, because Force Body was hard on someone who wasn't used to it. Hell, it was hard on people who were. But for a moment, the strength of a Gundark would hit him—and it might be enough.

You're stronger than you know. So is she.

~Back to the city streets~

The wave was entwining in the minds of the allied forces, cloistering and focusing, creating heart and wisdom. The squibs were not retreating from a simple rout, as the First Order would be eager to assume. They were holing up. Blaster shots were fired from windows and alleyways. Grenades hit walkers. “They will not take our home,” the battle cries rang out, from homes and buildings and market stalls.

“For my wife!” A voice rang from the palace as a guard opened fire.

“For my children!” Came the cry from a gunner mounted on the roof of a bar in some clunky junker turret, popping off at falling drop pods.

“For Metrobig!” One of the city administrators bellowed as remoted-operated garbage barges rammed into troop transports.

Behind Kyrel Ren, so eager to charge forward into the palace, a voice would ring out. The accent would be Atrisian. The presence in the force would be wispy, weak, but dark--like a dying man. “You the best they got?” The voice would say, from sixty yards behind him. Smoking a long, thin pipe. A large man, with arms like a Gamorrean muscle man and a gut that'd impress a Hutt. 400 pounds if he was an ounce. “Why are you here?” He said calmly, unmoving, leaning against the arch.

~ Back at the Shield generator ~

Vorhi arched his back. Fething hell, the strain was a bit much. No wonder most of the guys who did this poodoo were hunched over old men. Even moving was an effort. Slowly, he reached for a small thing in his pack. A burnt-looking piece of bark. Those sensing in the force would sense it's energy and hunger, if they were focused on it. Alchemized, and emotionally charged with hate and fear and most of all, hunger. Hungry for power, and blood. This one piece of bark was dangerous, even for Vorhi to have. He slowly used it as most men would use charcoal on a road, and scribble a small symbol in front of him. A scholar of proper force traditions would see it as an improvised overlay, a symbol in Dathomir meaning "life" and a symbol in Sith meaning "teeth," encircle by the old Jedai'i word for "wood" He smiled, smudging his blood over it and gasping. A brief defense, but usable. Hopefully.

Lyra Sunfell · Aug 11, 2018

Location: 13km out from survey site

Allies: [member="Sol Stazi"] [member="Peyton Steele"] [member="T-3"] [member="Alm"]

Opponents: GRAUG?
Enemy of my Enemy is also my Enemy?: [member="Rhun Trask"] [member="Decima Fortan"] [member="Castiel Moncrief"] [member="Racosidae"]
Also: [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"] [member="Joza Perl"] [member="Leah Kaban"]

Lyra's knuckles were white as they locked onto the holographic display and her eyes studied what data they could manage to acquire through the garbled channels. Waiting for the Jedi's response, her mind was perched on the verge of decisions. All of which needed more information before committing to one or another. But then she got an answer she hadn't anticipated.

Overwatch, this is Dusk Actual. Come in Overwatch.

"We read, Dusk Actual," Lyra responded, frowning as she listened to the message. Beside her, communications officers were frantically adjusting calibrations to get as clear of a message as they could manage.

"Reinforcements from Core Fleet deployed!" A voice from outside called into the bridge and a cheer rose up inside the ship. Lyra let out a sigh of relief. She knew that if Core Fleet deployed even part of their full strength, it was enough to level the playing field and tilt it in their advantage. By taking so long to deploy ground forces, the First Order had hamstrung themselves. It gave the Alliance enough time to respond and push back. The familiar sound of U-Wings shook through the air as they sped across the ground. Once troops were deployed, gunships could provide heavy firepower.

As Sol began calling out the coordinates for the strike, Lyra nodded, and her command staff hurriedly wrote them down before presenting the finished location to Lyra. Lyra took it and studied the map. When she found the location, she placed a digital marker.

"Heavy fire in-bound," she replied to Sol. She gestured outside and an orderly ran from the bridge with coordinates in hand. They would be distributed and shared among the artillery crews who, upon receiving the target, would change the angle of the guns. Moments later, Lyra braced herself as the sound of the guns hurling large shells into the air rippled through the air. Shells whistled as they sped towards the coordinates designated.

And then they got the second message.

"We read you, Steel," Lyra replied, "This is Twilight Actual."

"Major! Further enemy forces deployed outside the shield!"

"Coordinates are Peth-qek-zero-nine-eight-zero-three eight degrees, two hundred meters. Move to support. Enemy forces landed outside the shield and marched to the city. Engage them as possible."

Outside, the second salvo of mortar shells began to hurl through the air, even before the first salvo had managed to hit the ground. They were getting close though. Any moment, they would come raining down around the targeted area and exploding with massive force.

"Get some of those Uies to land their teams at the refugee camp," Lyra called into the comms. Her officers patched into the broader fleet network and relayed the command. Within a few minutes, Joza and Arcanus would find an Alliance U-Wing landing with a team of Alliance soldiers and medics to assist them while one of the gunships circled a kilometer out, keeping an eye out for anything that might head that way.

"Area outside most recent landing point secured!"

Lyra nodded with satisfaction. Between the initially deployed infantry companies, a few companies of dedicated artillery and armor, they had cleared the perimeter outside the city of any enemy movements. Then again, that wasn't hard. There hadn't been any real enemy resistance. Their goal had been focused entirely on the city and the curfew.

"Broadcast all infantry companies to move in on the city. Armor and artillery, concentrate on the enemy landing zone. Cut them out from their escape. Once inside the shield, they're stuck."

Heads nodded as they sent out the coded messages and 13 kilometers from the city in a great city, Alliance soldiers began moving into the city, tightening the noose. While the precision strike had been a good plan for the First Order, at least to try and repair their image, they had placed their necks inside a noose, and it was tightening, even as more forces being deployed, but too little and too late.

Lyra grabbed her combat kit and slung it on her back before striding out of the ship. Those on watch at the boarding ramp saluted.

"Twilight!" Lyra bellowed. "Move out! Second platoon, guard the artillery. Rest of you, load up." With her field command crew, Lyra strode into a waiting TT-48 speeder, along with three squads in their heavy armor. Elsewhere, the pickets would load up onto TT-37s, but the heavier speeder had been kept back in reserve.

All across the ridgeline, these speeders would erupt from their hidden locations and speed down the ridge towards the city. First stop? The targets called in by Sol. Reinforce, secure, and neutralize the opponent. The two companies next to them would be converging on the same location while the rest moved in towards the city.

Tiland Kortun · Aug 11, 2018

Allies: [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] [member="Mara"] Merrill-Velkner [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Joza Perl"]

Opponents: Indirectly engaging [member="Kyrel Ren"] Not engaging [member="Azula Merr"] [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Rexus Wenck"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] @Marriskal Lati [member="Tobias Wrynn"]

Location: Shield Generator

Objective: Shield the Shield (and Vorhi)

===================================

Tiland paused as sensed the message from Vorhi. It concerned him that such drastic actions were being undertaken. For he had a sense of what Vorhi was doing and he could feel the adaptation of the two Force presences. It was small at first, but growing stronger with each heartbeat. For now, Vorhi would be safe. None had arrived at the generator yet nor was there any threat that he could really see ahead of him. In fact, all seemed peaceful here, despite the rapid increase in weapons-fire. He wasn't sure what the Ren was trying to do, but if he was trying to increase casualties amongst his forces, it sounded like that was what was happening.

He took his staff in hand as the wind fluttered his robes and beard behind him. His eyes locked onto the palace. He could just see the tops of more Imperial troops moving to try and secure the palace or reinforce their brethren enough that those who had already infiltrated might survive. There was no telling what it was exactly that the First Order was trying to accomplish here, except perhaps to erase their earlier failure.

That, like control, was an impossibility. Such things were permanent and could never be undone. No matter how hard they tried, the memory of the catastrophes they inflicted on the Squib people was already burned into the memory of the inhabitants and the galaxy at large. Even if the Coalition was driven off and the First Order moved in, there would never be peace on Skor II. Blood would run in rivers as the Squib strove to drive away their assailants, to avenge themselves for the atrocities, and the First Order would retaliate, fanning the flames further. The hope of controlling Skor II would fail before it even began. How did one fight an enemy that took the remnants of their last battle, whether victory or defeat, and turn them into even more weapons? Such was an impossibility.

Yet there was some things that he could do. He could sense a Ren, fairly powerful, within the city, exerting his will upon the Squib around him. From what Tiland could sense, he was moving with the recently arrived reinforcements.

Tiland wrapped himself in the Force once more and gathered the Light to surround him like a cloak. He could sense the conflict in the minds of the people as all these influences tried to manipulate them. Tiland could not guard the generator and Vorhi while countering them all, but he could burn away the mind-control. He focused his mind on that of the Ren and forced his presence into it, unaware of Vorhi's own influence on what was happening. At that, he sent a burst of the Light into the minds around them, severing its hold on the minds of the Squib resistance, aided, ironically, by Sieger Ren's inflammation of their anger and their hatred that drove them to fight.

Recognizing what had happened to them, the Squib dove for their weapons and opened fire with everything they had, desperate to overcome this indignity and humiliation, even if it meant death as they strove to cut down as many Imperials as they could manage. They threw everything at the marching soldiers and AT-STs. Explosives, blasters, disruptors, gravity manipulations.

Yet this was but one small cell of the Squib resistance. By First Order standards, they were disorganized, but they had their own organization structure. One built around guerilla tactics and strategies. Could they win in a straight up fight? No. Not even the Galactic Alliance had managed that. But they could do something else. Thousands of tiny cuts intended to bleed them out.

Heavy hunkered back beneath the cover he had used. He had felt the presence try and force his mind, but Heavy was stubborn. Far more stubborn than the Ren gave him credit for. So he had remained behind, with one his comrades pinned under his arm. Yet no return fire came. Moments later, a flash of Light echoed through his mind, and it was cleared.

Yet now they had been depleted and the stormtroopers moved on. The two Squib nodded, picked up the fallen weapons, and slipped into the building. Their assault had been foolish, and cost them dearly, but perhaps it would be worth it in the end.

As stormtroopers moved into the rougher areas of towns, they found themselves harried and attacked by swoop-gangs, smugglers, pirates, and all others who had no desire for a military occupation. Quick shots fired from windows, from beneath city-grates, rooftops, alleyways. Intersections marked with improvised anti-personnel mines. True, they did little to keep the stormtroopers from entering the city, but that was intentional. Outside the city, the advantage lay with the invaders. But inside the city, the defenders had the advantage, and they planned to leverage that with every thing they could. With every step further inside the city, that was one more step required to leave. And that was one more moment that they would find themselves under continuously sporadic fire. They all knew they would be fighting stormtroopers and had prepared accordingly. They used every possible weapon that they could scrounge, built, borrow, or steal, that was known to penetrate armor.

It was not an easy or cheap battle. Nor was it close to being pacified. No, it was just beginning in earnest.

All this Tiland saw as he pulled his presence back from the Force, where he could watch over his wards. Yet still, things here were quiet. Still, he would have to wait for them arrive, and like waiting for tea to brew, he had no problem with that.

Mittens · Aug 11, 2018

Location: Space: Orbiting Skorr Two, Surrounded by Space Junk
Allies: ORC ([member="Dano Dil"], [member="Jorus Merrill"], [member="Jada Raxis"], [member="Silara Varis"], [member="Rekha Kaarde"], [member="Kaine Australis"], [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Mazik Stazi"], [member="Roth Tillian"], [member="Griet van Vliet"])
Enemies: First Order ([member="Karl Von Strauss"], [member=Robogeber], [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="The Major"], [member="Kou'ha Escala"], [member=Morro], [member="Cynthia Alucard"], [member="Gromm Cardan"], [member="Cyrus Tregessar"])
Objective: Provide Covering / Suppression Fire at arriving fleets

An alert chimed on the bridge of the Squib Flagship and Mittens' ear twitched. Bright red lights burst into life on the holodisplay and his eyes narrowed at the offending blemishes. "And there it is." Mittens said as he stared at the screen. "There... there are so many!" Admiral Squibbikans proclaimed in disbelief as he took an involuntary step back, away from the sudden threat to his survival. "True." Mittens said as watched the initial movements of the newly arrived ships. "But we had anticipated this wave of reinforcements. The numbers are, to an extent, irrelevant." Mittens said as he scanned through telemetry data and AiE profiles for the ships that were recognizable. "Our... The Squib Reclamation Fleet cannot stand against a force of that magnitude!" The blue-haired admiral proclaimed. "We must retreat!"

"Oh poppykosh." Mittens said as the hair on his back stood reflexively. "Look at the screen, Admiral. We were about to stop firing anyway, all this does is prolong this fleet's usefulness to the battle by giving us a target rich environment."

"A target-" The Admiral started before scoffing at the idea. "That is certainly one way of looking at it."

"All ships, change targets. Focus fire on the center-left of the Imperial Reinforcements. Our right. And for the Battleships, begin launching the Type-S packages." Grand Admiral Mittens called out with a calm authority. "And the Needle Fighters?" Admiral Squibbikans asked. "With this much jamming on the field, they can hardly be expected to receive any commands we send them." Mittens said with a scowl that betrayed his desire to do otherwise. "They're programmed to engage hostile starfighters and keep enemy Corvettes from approaching the main Squib formation. For now... that should be enough."

On the holodisplay before them, the Imperial Reinforcements began to break formation and move forwards and, in some cases, outwards as they moved to engage the Coalition forces. Likewise, several of the more heavily damaged Imperial ships seemed to break rank and retreat into the shadow of the new Imperial Flagship. Among these movements, the entire formation of Whale-Ships turned suddenly and sharply, banking away from the Admonitor-class Super Star Destroyer. "What? Where are they going?" Admiral Squibbikans demanded. "We gave no such orders!"

"Actually, we did." Admiral Mittens said calmly. "Their orders were to identify the largest Imperial Ship... and throw the Summa-Verminoth at it."

"And they're turning away!" The Squib cried out.

"Because that ship is no longer the largest Imperial Ship." Mittens explained, his deep voice still projecting a calm reassurance to the concerned Squib. "Just watch. What happens next should be quite a sight."

In the black of space, the brace of cybernetic abominations turned gracefully away from the tangled mass of ships that fired upon one another. Instead, the beast now lined themselves up squarely with the newly arrived and incredibly more massive Imperial Wraith that now loomed over the battlefield. The creatures still roared through space at incredible speeds, the benefits of their previous slingshot maneuver hurling them alongside and then past the bulk of the ships. Arcs of electrical current burst into life around the superstructure that lined the backs of the Whale-ships as powerful electrical charges built within the structures. Arcing plasma and electrical current danced alone the cables that trailed behind the hellscape beasts, racing down the length of each before pouring into the still slumbering flesh that trailed behind. Once-limp tentacles and other strange appendages sprang to life with sudden movement, jerking and flailing and curling as a shrill scream rocked Subspace frequencies. The horror of the rift was awake, and the dread beast raged against the insult upon her slumber.

Massive tentacles moved forward, ready to embrace and bring justice upon the horrid things that had offended the sleeping one. As barbed limbs with shocking discharges reached for the lesser beings, the mooring cables connecting the five creatures to one another were detached. The great one's instigators fled from the dread mother's reach, accelerating away as the mother of monsters screamed in rage at the indignation. The scream drew to a close as the beast's eyes skipped past the horrid little things to see the dark shapes beyond. There in the void, with wings stretched wide, was a beast that rivaled the Lovecraftian horror in size and majesty. There was a beast. A mighty creature. Too large to be prey. It was, what it could only be. A rival to the void queen's territory. Competition for food and a threat to her supremacy.

It had to die.

The horrible one screamed again before it lurched forward on its own will, accelerating beyond the speeds the lesser creatures had left it drifting at. Her voice filled the void and the realms beyond. Her rage filled reality, the hyper and the sub and the other too echoing with her challenge to the silent black beast with the wings that blotted out stars. As she hurled towards the metal one, an energy surrounded the mighty beast. Not an energy of her own creation, but an energy all the same. From the planet it began, and at the beast it ended. A connection between the two. The completion of a plan. A final trick with which to stack the deck. A shield to protect the eldritch horror. And a city to pay the price.

"What in the name of all the gods in the universe did you just do?" Admiral Squibbikans asked as he stared in horror at the scene playing out before his eyes.

"This was the plan." Grand Admiral Mittens proclaimed as his chest swelled with pride at the sight of his horrible creation. "The shield generator we established in Metrobig City had always had a copy of these plans. They were to watch the battle in orbit. And, if those mooring cables were to be detached and the beast to be awoken, they were to disable the theater shield over Metrobig City and switch the shield emitter to its second setting, targeting its shield projection over the beast itself."

"You... YOU MONSTER!" Admiral Squibbikans yelled, turning to face the diminutive creature at his feet. "There are hundreds of thousands of Squibbians in that city! The First Order will level the entire city for this! They'll murder twice as many as they did before, and JUST FOR SPITE!"

"No they will not." Admiral Mittens answered flatly, narrowing his eyes at the man as he took in the disgusting sight of his lack of composure.

"YOU CAN'T KNOW THAT!" Screamed the Squib Admiral.

"I know 'that' because you and I will not let them harm your planet!" Mittens proclaimed loudly and boldly to the Squib leader. "I know that because what the First Order does to those they don't kill is far worse than what they do to those they do! And I know that because if we can't keep THOSE monsters from taking this world, then every world in the Coalition is at risk. If THOSE monsters win here today, they will never stop attacking the Coalition and every world in the sector will burn for it."

"But-" Began the Squib Admiral shakily.

"Good sir, I will lay down my life to save your people from these monsters." Mittens said with great sincerity, looking the larger sentient in the eyes as he spoke. "But we cannot push them back unless we are willing to risk it all in the process."

As the Squib Admiral stood on weak legs, slowly shaking with a silent fear and uncertainty, the defenders of the skies of Skor Two continued to assault the approaching wave of Imperials. The Squib Navy might not be able to stand their ground against the massive Imperial warships, but they were more than capable of providing an artillery barrage of ordnance with which to support the war in space. The barrage took the form of hurled garbage, scraps and remains of the last fleet the First Order had sent to the Squib homeworld, and a few choice surprises that had been engineered in advance by the mad tinkerers of the Squib Corp of Engineers. As the torrent of scrap metal was hurled at the approaching Imperial Reinforcements at speeds rivaling the best railguns of the galaxy, this latest wave would contain... a surprise. A trick. A tool with which to turn the tide. But one which would not be readily apparent to those that withstood the mountain of scrap that rained down upon them.

Elsewhere in the void, the pair of Oswaft and the four massive whales would continue forward, scattered from one another as they continued in their charge toward the Imperial Fleet. The Oswaft, for their part, hid behind the whales as they approached. The whales, for their part, appeared to take up collision courses towards the largest ships that were near to the Wraith. Behind them, the Summa-Verminoth screamed at her rival. And moments later. Collision.

Fancy Fleet (29,000m)

Kracken Command (11,000m) >>> Collision Course w/ ~~Admonitor-class Super Star Destroyer~~ FIV Wraith! > Attacking FIV Wraith and Supporting Fleet
1x Summa-Verminoth - 5km Body, tentacles 5x that length > Ramming FIV Wraith. Shielded by planetary shield generator
4x Whale-Ships - 1km Each, ramming Cyrus's NPC star destroyers
2x Oswaft - 1km Each, following Whale-Ships. Prepped to do a thing.

Squib Reclamation Fleet, Glorious Navy of the Squib Polyanarchy and valiant defenders of Skor Two (18,000m) >>> Hurling garbage and starfighters at FO Fleet (Cyrus) (Still firing, Mainly at Cyrus's forces, but likely hitting Gromm's forces too. Mixing surprise ordnance into barrage of garbage)
1x Leviathan Factory Ship/Carrier - 5km
3x Cal-class Battleship - 3km Each
80x Needle Ship - 50m Each
Swarm of Needle Fighters - 2.5m Each (still pouring out of the Leviathan) (engaging starfighters or escorts where appropriate)

Tobias Wrynn · Aug 11, 2018

Sorrow.

Wrynn's eyes dilated behind his helmet, and his shoulders sagged. From his position atop the Squib King's palace, the contingency protocol triggered a preset, conditioned response. More than any of the indoctrination of the Stormtrooper Corps, the lengths taken to undergo his loyalty were more extreme in some cases than in others. The order given in this instance was absolute and unquestionable, and when given it was impossible to revoke.

His response had to reflect that level of urgency. Adrenaline pumped through his veins artificially and endorphins released to trigger a battle-high that pushed the Specialist to peak performance. Sorrow Protocol initiated.

His eyes swept across the rooftop, enhanced alertness coupled with his HUD scanning for any trace of comms equipment. He had a read on high outputs of chatter in a matter of seconds. It was the most powerful signal in the immediate area, and the only one relatively free of interference. He cleared a corner and the dish came into full view.

Wrynn knelt behind the array and pried the control panel loose, fully aware that trying to input codes he did not have would be an exercise in futility. No, he gripped the faceplate firmly between his fingertips and exposed the wires, then delicately removed them from the panel. With the ground placed carefully to a slab of metal welded to the comms array, he connected the feed to his communicator and rigged the other wires to loop the power as per normal.

That gave him a direct uplink to the network, and his HUD did the rest. FOSB kitted his armor special for slicing, so with a series of spoken commands, he cut in to the dish and retooled the channel to the First Imperial frequency. Once that change-over was complete, he activated the signal boost and spoke the order.

"First Imperial elements in low orbit, I have orders from Colonel [member="Rolf Amsel"] of the FIST. Enact "Sorrow" protocol, I repeat-"

The words came flat and clearly from him, and he repeated the word with a much bolder emphasis.

"Sorrow."

Once he had acknowledgement, he would have to move quickly.

He was the spotter now, after all.

[member="Rexus Wenck"] [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Cyrus Tregessar"]

@ORC forces on the outer perimeter of the Squib King's Palace. Not sure who that entails.

Marriskcal Lati · Aug 11, 2018

Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Lightsaber & Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine
Location | Third Floor, Palace of the Squib King, Skor II
Objectives | Covering Maalraas
Allies | [member="Omari Vyken"] (near), [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Varas Ren"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Tobias Wrynn"], [member="Keira Verd"], [member="Vestille Thumahra"], First Order
Enemies | [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Mishel Noren"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Romi Jade"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Julius Sedaire"], [member="Jaius Sovv"], [member="Kahne Porte"], ORC & their allies

[SIZE=11pt]Her eyes moved up and down the hall, her gaze moving between the Storm Commando in the glossy black armour and the yet unidentified group of hostiles gathered on the other side of the aftermath of the glop grenade. Within the confines of her helmet, a frown formed on her lips as she caught sight of their flaring lightsabers and their bright presence in the force. A part of her reacted to their light and dark auras with curiousity and wanted to question them as to their allegiances, but her training held fast. Lowering her maser rifle so that its barrel was angled towards the floor, the youngling stepped out fully into the hall.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It was a risk, considering they were clearly eager for blood.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]So it fell to her to express clearly that she was averse to escalating the fight at present to the group of tense hostiles. No, her main objective here was the Storm Commando. “FN-6790, FN-7361, lower your weapons. We are here to provide aid.” [/SIZE]

You'll Sleep When I Say So [First Order Invasion of Outer Rim Coalition [Hex K-53] Skor II]

Jedi Accountant

The World Eater

ＬＯＳＴ ＳＯＵＬ

Orphan

Punished Rexus

is mek bote

Keepin Corellia Weird

Ghost

T-3

Guest

The Iron

Elena Lowe

Guest

Hope is Kindled

The Lesser D'Lessio

Mazik Stazi

Guest

Blind Brawler

Lyra Sunfell

Guest

The Jedi Iroh

So fluffy, you'll die

Tobias Wrynn

Guest

ι l l υ м ι n a т e

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