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Wrynn had his clearance to open fire on aggressors, and the Squib guard contingent seemed disinterested in letting them pass. Fortunately for the FIST, their armor afforded them a bit more leeway when dealing with a combat situation. He saw them before they ever saw him.
They stood at their posts, armed with weapons that appeared more improvised than they likely were, and conversed with each other until the rest of the First Imperial Shock Troops came into view. They sounded the alarm, or rather, what sounded like an alarm but was actually a series of mangled, shrieking sounds that registered on a frequency Tobias would never have picked up without aural enhancers. He winced, but the carbine was on target before his body had time to shudder. His finger tickled the trigger, then pried it back full force.
The weapon roared immediately, and he watched the shot's tracer as it raced toward the target and did what it was designed to do. Unarmored targets were the most unfortunate victims of overpenetration, especially with the hideously poisonous round that tore through the small blue being and lodged in the wall behind him. He gasped from the impact and subsequent exit wound, aware of his body and the pain that lanced through it as the radiation seeped into his bloodstream and began the lengthy and painful process of killing him.
The other guard saw him go down and did not wait to find out if the shooter intended to fire at her next. She dropped her weapon and threw both hands up, shouting to the heavens for salvation.
"Stupid, uncivilised whelps," Wrynn snorted. "We came to help you, and you spurred our good faith by siding with the Coalition."
Their forces were already manuevering in the palace, Wrynn observed as his HUD zeroed in on a mass movement in an adjacent room. "They must be amassing a defense force," he decided. Whatever they were actually doing was conjecture at this point, and that was his best guess. "You are clear to proceed, Maalraas One. I'm picking up a large concentration of organics in an adjacent room, however. Move cautiously."
Location: Squib-King's Palace
Allies: None directly involved
Tibanna Tango: [member="Vestille Thumahra"]
Enemies: The rest of the FO, not involved
==============================
Krenis waited there, perched behind the corner of the wall, for what seemed like an eternity. No response came and that was enough for him to know the answer. It was a no. He muttered a quiet curse and prepared to duck around the corner to open fire, but just as he went to move, a metal object came clattering out in the midst of them.
"Grenade!" Krenis was yelling before he was even fully aware of what was happening. The other soldiers dove behind whatever cover they could and dropped to the ground, even as Krenis activated the repulsor-pack on his armor to hurl himself back, but there was nothing but smoke billowing from the canister. Initial data readings didn't even read it as toxic. Just a smoke grenade.
And then the cannon opened up, pouring blaster fire into the smoke-filled corridor. Hits were called out and the wounded were dragged away from the field by their comrades and combat medics. Krenis dropped to the ground and activated the din'uul on his wrist, so that the shield crackled under the stray blaster bolt that caught it.
"Back!" Krenis yelled, "Get back behind cover!" Those who had escaped the sudden onslaught began moving back in pairs, covering each other as they moved, and trying to guess where the foe was. Krenis swapped to infrared targeting in his visor.
The cannon was easy to see. It glowed like a furnace, warmer still even than the one who was holding it. Too close for the grenade now, so Krenis slid his hand back, flipping the firing-switch to semi-automatic, and he squeezed the trigger three times, aiming for the cannon itself, wherever it glowed hottest. Three bolts of blue plasma arced through the smoke, even as Krenis dropped to one knee and pulled back behind a corner.
Blaster bolts plowed into the walls, causing small flames to spark from the material, adding to the chaos. This solider was good. Krenis could see that. Clever and well instructed in tactics. Also relentless. That had to be respected.
Unless he was one of the Mando'ade, however, that wouldn't be enough to save his life, if he was unwilling to accommodate their demands. Unfortunate, but it was just how it went.
Location: Local Space Objective: Secure Orbit and Maintain First Order Space Supremacy Allies: [member="Kou'ha Escala"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Karl Von Strauss"] | [member="Robogeber"] Enemies: ORC Fleet/Allies
Danger Close(In Close Vicinity): [member="Dano Dil"]
A frowned formed beneath Cyn's helmet, her hands pushing forward as her TIE reacted accordingly, her entire Squad putting significant distance between the enemy fighters. Reports sputtered across her screen, her own TIE flared alarms as her own shields needed time to recharge and re-calibrate. She expected the enemy fighters to shoot by prediction, as they were on the defensive and Cyn was the attacker, but the quick salvo nearly evaporated her own shields. While she did earn a kill, it hadn't been her intention at first but she couldn't complain all that much.
Pixie Squadron continued to use their speed, and momentum advantage to their favor, not bothering to turn back into for another attack with a different vector. Instead, Cyn had ordered them to conduct a single attack, and now with that done they continued to fly up and away from their engagement. The rest of the pairs that had shot only reported hits but no actual damage past the superficial. Cyn's frown only worsened as her droid brain directed several warnings of failed communication attempts with the larger capital ships. Expected, but still unfortunate and still have my objective complete. Her droid brain continued to push through long range communications, infrared lasers sights and counter jamming measures were taking place. But that just means information and communications with high command will be spotty.
"Pixie Leader, Pixie Two here, it appears we layered too much Pixie dust on that bandit," Pixie Two chimed in, their HUDs displaying to them if their enemy that they had just finished attacking were trying to follow them, in perhaps some sort of lag pursuit.
Cyn tapped a single finger before nodding, "Pixie Two, take command of Pixie Squad on my command, we need to approach this fight differently." Cyn ordered, she peered at her screen to see if the enemy fighters were going to pursue them or not. Pixie Two gave her the affirmative, and waited for his signal. Their shields won't last long in a series of long drawn close fighter to fighter engagements, her only option to keep the rest of her pilots alive were these boom and zoom tactics. So what are you my enemy going to do? Momentum trap us, fly close and underneath?
LOCATION: Some junkyard
OBJECTIVE: Can't we all just get along?
ALLIES: The Force
ENEMIES: Disharmony
ATTENTION: [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Karl Von Strauss"] [member="Mittens"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Kou'ha Escala"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] and everyone else in SPACE
Boda sat on a piece of junk and chuckled to himself. Peace and harmony could take so very many forms. The living Force connected all the disparate combatants (apart from the Force-dead Mandos, but Boda was not aware of them and would have used a different term anyway). He closed his eyes, pursed his lips, and blew a spit bubble. The joyful, frenetic abandon of the mating-frenzied purrgils permeated the Force. How happy they must be, risk or no risk. They had purpose; they were fulfilling that purpose. If only that joy could be shared.
Oh, wait. It could.
Battle meditation was an esoteric skill, and not one that Boda had ever bothered to operationalize. He was no strategist to play with fleets and infantry divisions like gamepieces, no indeed. But the basic principle of connecting hearts and minds and spirits and wills in a bolstering, friendly collective...that much, he could do, at least at some level.
"MURRR hurr hurr!"
He didn't have the inherent fussiness or judgment to sort out 'us' from 'them.' Fortunately, the situation didn't require that.
The joyful mating frenzy of the purrgils began to spread through the entire fleet battle, through hearts and minds and, let's face it, loins.
Whether Durgan hadn't heard Sogash's incredulity at his remarks or he simply didn't respond was anybody's guess. Either could have been likely. Subtlety wasn't one of Durgan's strong points - and he couldn't have cared less. What their employer heard and didn't hear wasn't of particular concern for the bounty hunter turned mercenary. His work would speak for itself, and if they found it lacking? He'd go find another employer. Easy, right? Though he could hear clearly the words of their employer, he didn't seem much interested. *I heard the basics, it's enough for me.* he thought as he kicked a discarded empty can across the ground. Almost as an afterthought, Durgan looked back over his shoulder, noting the Trandoshan stepping to catch up. Stopping where he stood for a moment Durgan waited for the transmission to be terminated. *Good thing we're not using standard comm* he thought. All transmissions to and from the surface seemed to be bogged down by some sort of intermittent jamming. Electronic warfare was messy, it was for that exact reason they'd opted for an alternate method of communication - that and they weren't exactly cleared to be on First Order channels anyway.
"Ahh, I suppose you're right Sogash. Your wisdom astounds."
*Well, it was worth a shot.* thought Durgan. As his footsteps came to a halt he played with a piece of construction debris with his toe, scrawling marks into the light layer of dust on the ground.
"The palace! The palace is where we should be! Squib King is guarded by Coalition, by Alliance, by Jedi. So many points! So many pelts!"
Durgan suppressed an eye roll. From the blaster fire and sounds coming from further into the city, the palace was probably the last place he wanted to be - then again, the taste of conflict from only a few minutes before had piqued a thirst. Grudgingly Durgan moved to take a step back in the direction of his Trandoshan friend, stopping short when he noted the hunter's behavior. *He's looking for something.* Durgan thought to himself. *But what.. or whom?* Narrowed eyes traced the street once more, empty windows and balconies not offering a clue as to what it was that Sogash was sensing. To their rear, the familiar sound of AT-ST's disembarking could be heard - then the Trandoshan's voice again.
"Keep the streets clear! Nobody leaves casino!" followed by, "Your call may not be so poor."
Just like that the Trandoshan had changed his mind. Durgan hadn't seen anything or heard anything out of the ordinary. From what he could tell though, Sogash did, and he wasn't one to disregard the skills of the Trandoshan hunters - even if he did on occasion poke fun at their odd habits. Collectively the pair finished the short journey through the doors, crossing the threshold and into the casino. A quick glance revealed the machines, some still wrapped, others as if they might have even been functional. *We'll see about that.* thought Durgan. A few steps to his left and he located a console, a dim display showing an electrical control system. Pressing a few illuminated buttons, lights came on above. Colorful, bright, and music began to play through the empty building - or at least this floor. As the machines lit up so did the hunter's eyes. Power meant the machines were capable of being used, did that mean there were credit chits just waiting for the taking?
As he took a step towards the machines a strange shadow cast from above caught his eye, a glint in the bright lights as they shone down. His blaster had been carried casually, to try lifting it now would certainly sign a warrant of his death - if the shadow was what he thought it was. Eyes cast skyward - or balconyward as it were, a sneer spread across his lips as he recognized the distinct shape of a Mandalorian helmet.
"Sogash, I think I found what you were smelling."
Location: The Amphitheater, near the casino
Ally: [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
Opponents: Apparently everyone's already engaged.
[member="Leah Kaban"] [member="Sogash"]
Objective: Nonviolent demonstrations
====
"Indeed! I combined the herbs myself. I have a little tea shop on Sanctuary," Tiland paused as one of the Squib appeared, discussing something about a contest and a microphone. Tiland tilted his head as he listened and as a growing realization of what Vorhi was doing dawned on him, he shook his head and settled back farther on the bench.
The music roared through the city and who knew where else. He settled himself further into the Force and wrapped itself around him, blocking out much of the sound from his focus so that he could sense what else was happening on the planet. A great deal, in fact. Yet none of it was close. But he felt deaths rippling through the Force. So much for the peaceful occupation and liberation. They had tried to seize their control and when it failed, they resorted to their usual force and violence. It was not a quest, the desire for control, but a slave-master, for it was unattainable, and would drive them to further and further extremes to try and grasp the wind. Tiland pitied them, for the wind could not be grasped. One had to move with the wind.
Something rumbled through the ground and Tiland froze, feeling it shake beneath his feet. It was not the bass from Vorhi's singing, but something else. Walkers. He frowned and stood, taking up his staff in one hand. They were already escalating the engagement and that could be devastating.
He needed to... redirect them elsewhere. Point them to another target. It would be difficult of course and he would need to be clever. Taking a seiza stance, with the staff across his knees, Tiland reached out with the Force, sensing the minds of those in the city, and catching glimpses of their thoughts. There were many. Many were afraid and these he sent a subtle nudge of encouragement through the Force. Others were angry and these he sent a hint of calm. Others, now they were focused on running massive machines.
Those were the ones he was looking for. Eyes closed, he brought to mind an image, one that he had seen long ago, of Alliance tanks on patrol through a city. These were thoughts he sent into the minds of the AT-ST pilots. Just for a moment, and then these tanks seemed to disappear down another street.
That would be enough to set them on an initial goose-chase, away from the civilians, as long as he maintained his meditation.
Meanwhile, beneath the streets, a certain Squib carrying a disruptor cannon nearly as large as himself was gathered together with a small band of other compatriots, each armed with salvaged and retrofitted weapons. Mostly of the heavy kind. It was a speech in their native language, in which the one with the disruptor, spoke fervently, despite their near whispers. He raised a fist in the air and the others followed suit, before scurrying into the underground labyrinth. They knew these tunnels. They knew where they ran. They also knew where the First Order had landed.
The Squib named Heavy intended to put that to good use, but not just yet. No, they had a plan. After the first battle, they had planned, they had trained, and they were ready. This day would go down into legend.
Location: 10 miles outside of Metrobig City
Objective: Prevent a ground assault on the city
Allies: [member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Alm"] [member="Sol Stazi"] [member="T-3"]
Enemies: Boredom. [member="Rhun Trask"] [member="Hatori Ikari"] [member="Decima Fortan"] @Castiel Moncrief
==============
"Major?" A voice asked, and Lyra turned her head from where she was peering through electrobinoculars at the city. The battle had definitely started. No doubt about that. The energy shields were up. Drop-pods and dropships were hurtling towards the planet and she could just barely make out ships in the upper atmosphere engaging in battle. Yet here she was, essentially on guard duty, with the rest of her company. Their objective was simple- prevent any ground assault forces from approaching and entering the city. So, they had deployed themselves here, on a ridge just under ten miles from the city, with the Firebird landed on a flat-spot and covered with camouflage mesh and greenery. It was there on the bridge that she stood, in the shocktrooper armor, with helmet cradled beneath her arm. It reminded her of her early days as a Mandalorian. That had been a long time ago, but perhaps it was time to break out the beskar’gam again. She pushed the thought aside and turned from the viewport, assessing their situation.
Twilight Company had deployed in a ring around the road leading to the city, anticipating some sort of armored assault, in mixed armor, with some in the lighter recon armor and others in the shocktrooper armor. The scouts were further out and had taken up positions of observation and the like. Those in heavier armor were clustered around the corvette and within earthworks that had built. Like Dagobah, all over again, except it was significantly drier, with better weather, and much more sleep. That, and they had much bigger artillery. Of course, it was possible that it would change, but while she was no expert on First Order strategy, she was fairly certain dropships and drop-pods meant there would be no ground assault from this direction. But still, they had to be sure, and thus they would hold their position.
"Yes, captain?" Lyra finally asked, putting down the electrobinoculars. Comms were too spotty to be of any use at this point. It was just up to them.
"One of our scouts saw a First Order dropship descend and land over by the abandoned buildings."
"Just one? What class of ship?"
"Yes. Infantry landing, from the report."
Lyra frowned and strode over to the holomap that they had charted in their days of preparation for the assault. There had been nothing there at that site at all. Dilapidated old buildings. Good for a landmark, but not much else.
"What were they doing?"
"Nothing confirmed yet."
"Well, keep an eye on them," Lyra responded after a moment, "Move some more scout units closer in that direction, but they are not to engage until we can see what the kark they're doing there."
At least that made things a little more interesting. Something to do other than sit around and watch. Well, they were still watching, but something more specific. That was something at least. The woman slipped her way through the many technicians and officers to again stare out the viewport, towards the abandoned buildings.
What were they doing there? What could they want to accomplish?
“Get a message to the thirty-third,” she added after a moment. “Tell then to tighten their defensive ring and key eyes on those buildings. Watch only.”
“Aye, Major!” The response came back and the officer worked on the restoring enough comms to get the message through.
Location: ANS Excubitor, Local space
Objective: Engage the First Order in orbit; keep the FO off the Squibs
Allies: [member="Silara Varis"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Mittens"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] [member="Kaine Australis"]
Enemies: [member="Karl Von Strauss"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="Cynthia Alucard"] [member="Morro"]
Directly engaging: [member="Kou'ha Escala"]
"Now that the enemy is on the purrgils, the enemy is now more or less off the Squibs" the sensor technician reported in. "However, the enemy has started to advance within standard turbolaser range of us, firing at our heavy frigates"
"It's obvious that we can't flank Carlyle anymore. That the enemy has, in fact, filled the gap between Carlyle and Karl"
"Activate ECCM and then open a channel to all friendly commands!"
"Channel open" the communications officer reported in, after the ECCM was activated.
"The enemy is so focused on the purrgils that they are neglecting to engage other elements! They shall pay the price for this! Provide covering fire to protect the purrgils! Battle meditation to be activated in five... four... three... two... one..." she communicated to [member="Silara Varis"], [member="Mittens"], [member="Jorus Merrill"] and whoever was in charge of the Mandalorian carrier fleet (which may or may not be [member="Kaine Australis"]), not believing that [member="Mazik Stazi"] should be entering the fray at this point.
- BATTLE MEDITATION ACTIVATED -
Slowly but surely the ECCM was taking effect and some measure of sensory feeds to the targeting computers would return, with some static at longer ranges, rendering it unable to target ships any further than the enemy vanguard with any significant level of precision. For now the fighter screen was busy engaging missiles being fired, aimed for the heavy frigates' engines, but the attack craft were still deployed in defensive positions, buzzing like bees in hopes of intercepting enemy fighters straying too far away from their motherships. However, at that range, the enemy corvettes were having limited effects on the heavy frigates' shields, and engines, too. And, even though the time has not come yet to have starfighters conduct bombing runs with full-powered bomblets, the white Twi'lek knew the time was ripe to activate battle meditation: the enemy was closing in and fast. Now that she had her own allies under battle meditation's effects, her allies will find that their reflexes have improved, and their reaction times are much faster; they also function much more effectively as a result of BM being in use. And the mating purrgils were also in the process of being connected to the rest of the allied fleets via battle meditation, so things would, hopefully, proceed smoothly for them. And the space kraken, too. Especially with [member="Boda"] already getting the process started.
"The Squibs are now in position" Tanith reported, upon sensing their positions in the Force.
"By the Force! Is that a... summa-verminoth?" the chief engineer asked, in disbelief at the sensor readings, now partially restored.
"Smash this enemy fleet in the center to pieces! We must break their anti-starfighter screen apart; then we can think of launching a fighter assault. As for the interdictors, have the gravity wells aimed at the reactor domes of key enemy ships so that debris can be attracted to, and buffet, their reactor domes, and hopefully penetrate them"
With the First Order so focused on killing the purrgils, the time was ripe for Therapy Command to come in and attack them from another direction. And now Therapy Command would be able to respond in kind: while the Squibs were collecting debris floating in orbit around Skor so that they could hurl them later, for that plan to work, there had to be additional debris created, that is, there has to be some pew-pew, enough of it to tear pieces off a ship. Plus the five ships that had gravity well generators (albeit much smaller than those installed on the Immobilizer 422 or the First Order's interdiction cruisers), the pocket carriers, were aiming their gravity wells for the reactor domes of three different enemy capital ships: two of them on the Morrigan, two of them on the Kali and the final one on the Pellaeon since she had the impending feeling that the Squibs would be at least attempting to fire at it at range. Plus these large ships' relatively disturbing lack of mobility made them much easier targets for a gravity-aided shower of debris, let alone more mobile ships.
"What about us?" the chief gunnery officer of the Excubitor complained.
"Concentrate as much of the long-range firepower as we can on the Morrigan and prioritize its reactor dome: with some luck we could penetrate the reactor dome!" Tanith ordered to the chief gunnery officers as well as the Skors.
"Standard-ranged batteries, target the cruisers on the enemy flanks!" the captain of the Excubitor shouted in the internal comm line reserved to the gunnery crews.
The priority of the smaller ships, the corvettes and frigates, would be to take out the enemy anti-starfighter screening and, hopefully, create debris that could be attracted to the battlecruisers; there were thousands of turbolaser shots fired, in a hailstorm of fire, with most of the screening ships firing by pairs at other enemy ships, as appropriate, suspecting that such mobility came at a durability cost but not able to confirm it at this stage. Meanwhile, the Skors, firing these massive, heavy long-range hypervelocity cannons, along with seven of the picket corvettes equipped with energy torpedo launchers, had a clear shot at the Morrigan's reactor dome, while the Excubitor's long-range batteries were trained at different areas of the Morrigan's topside, thanks to it being on a different angle relative to the Morrigan, and the battlecruiser's standard-ranged batteries fired a steady stream of turbolasers at the cruisers on the enemy vanguard's flanks. This battlefield has truly become a maelstrom of capital ship fire by now... And also a maelstrom of large-scale disorder, where the sheer variety of entities in play truly made this engagement more than simply a clash of the swarms, but a clash of the titans in space as well, most fantastic and also one for the ages, one that could even have a holomovie shot about it, regardless of who wins. The time has come to press the attack indeed.
Activated ECCM
Activated battle meditation
Had the gravity wells centered on the reactor domes of FO ships (2x each on the Kali and Morrigan, 1x on the Pellaeon)
Opened fire at the screening force
Had the Skors and several picket corvettes fire at the Morrigan's reactor dome from long range
Had the Excubitor's standard-ranged weapons fire at the cruisers on the flanks
Deployed all squadrons in a screen around the fleet
Capital ships:
ANS Excubitor (Procurator-XI-class heavy battlecruiser) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan (long-range only) FIV Evalach (standard-range, port) FIV Svalinn (standard-range, starboard)
ANS Ordnance Handler (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Gambanteinn
ANS Refueling Technician (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 85% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Refil
ANS Damage Controller (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Vasilis
ANS Third Variable (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 85% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Eridanus
ANS Causal Claim (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Cassiopeia
ANS Double-Counting (C-9982-class heavy frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Scorpius
ANS Skor (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan, starfighters
ANS Polis Massa (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan, starfighters
ANS Positive KITA (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan, starfighters
ANS Negative KITA (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan, starighters
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Morrigan, starfighters
Location: Deep Space
Allies: ORC/AIE
Enemies: None
Objective: Wait
================
"So, uh, what's the hold-up?" Roth asked his executive officer as they stood on the bridge. "The patrols shouldn't have taken this long to get back yet." He was standing in front of his commodore's chair, arms folded and finger tapping.
"Well," the tech responded, scratching her forehead in confusion. "Comms are a little messed up. But we're getting reports from the fighters of intense and unusual purgill and spake-squid activity."
"I don't understand," Roth replied after a moment of trying to process that information.
"Nobody does, but they seem to be cluttering up the space lanes."
"That's unusual."
"Extremely, it's preventing two squadrons from making the jump back to the ship."
"Understood." Roth stood there and scratched his head, trying to understand. "Well, just keep me informed." With that, he strode off back towards the hangar, impatience making him restless. He hated standing still like this. He hated being on a carrier. A fighter's cockpit was where he belonged. Not a command deck, but unfortunately, battlefield promotions were a thing.
Equipment| 2x Lightsabers (crimson), Standard Ren Armour (appearance) Status| Determined
Once his glacier-blue eyes had fallen on Varas as she got out of the transport, Primat felt heat flush to his cheeks. Though nobody could see it, he was blushing and he felt as though everyone knew. Primat especially flet a though Varas knew. His hands clenched and unclenched in her presence and he felt as though his palms were sweating just with her being there. Hopefully, this wouldn't cause any problems of any sort. Though, Primat could only hope and pray that no problems would arise because of this. Primat's gaze remained focused on Varas as she approached both him and Marriskcal and as she began to speak to the two of them. He paused for a beat, his mind mulling over the words of Varas before he finally replied to her. "Nothing really we were just..." Then he realized something. Was she asking about what him and Marr were talking about? Or was she asking about something else? Primat knew that if he lied to her, she'd probably find out the truth somehow or he would just feel guilt for lying to Varas...so he opted for some of the truth, mixed in with information on the current situation. "...having a debate between which is better, flowers or chocolates. I was undecided, while Marr said chocolate hands-down. Which do you prefer, flowers or chocolates?" It was a short segment of the truth, though not all of it to where Varas would get suspicious about them, hopefully.
Primat brought his hand up to his helmet, he was getting in something from his comn system. He tried to tune his frequency in and outwards from his HUD, though that didn't help any. Eventually, somehow...he got something coming in, however it was only static. No, it was something else. Their were a few blurbs of static, then words, then static once more. Either they were being jammed, or their comns were being spotty Primat wasn't sure which. However, seeing as how he was still hearing words, the comns, at least for ground level, were spotty at best. At least they could hear things, for the most part that is.
"Alpha Three and Four are here? That...sounds about right. It makes sense that we would bring in special-forces, more specifically, death-troopers for this type of operation." Primat agreed with Marriskcal, though it seemed as though Varas had a point. Primat sensed a lighter presence as well, though for all they knew their could be Jedi here. The two of them were right about their assumptions and what they were sensing at the moment. After all, he did sense a large amount of people who harbored the ability to use the force here, at the Palace. Which...would mean they would be outnumbered. All Primat knew was that him, Marr, and Varas were going to the Palace. He didn't know of any other Knights of Ren who were going to the temple. Which meant, that they would be the only FO operatives that could use the force here. Where are the rest of the Ren when we need them? One minute, their is too many of us to where we start infighting. The next, their are too few to where we are probably outnumbered.
"Well, I sense as though we're outnumbered, at least for people who can use the force. I agree with Marr, it makes sense that Alpha Three and Alpha Four would be here. Varas, I also agree with you...for all we know, their could be Jedi inside of that Palace. I mean, either way we're going into a warzone where we have no information and where we might be outnumbered. Marr...do you think you could lead us in the direction of Alpha Three and Four, if they're near or inside of the Palace, that is?" As Primat finished, he looked around at the surrounding stormtroopers. The stormtroopers should accompany to the Palace to help with additional reinforcements. They weren't special forces, though Stormtroopers were the next best thing, at least according to Primat that is. The troopers orders were simple, keep weapons on stun & use nonlethal's. Out of the fifteen troopers, none of them carried any lethal grenades as to not inflict needless civilian causalities or accidentally kill the King.
Primat activated his comn once more, trying to relay a message to any First Order operatives who were listening. "Reinforcements have arrived, repeat Reinforcements are here. Prepare for backup at the Squib King's Palace, over and out."
Allies: [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"]
Enemies: [member="Karl Von Strauss"] [member="Robogeber"] @Morrow [member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Rolf Amsel"]
Objective: ENGAGING ROBOGEBER BBY
Location: Off Robogebers Left Flank-Column Formation
OOC: Nice post Robogeber! I'm on vacation with the fam so apology for the shortness. If I missed any fellow Fleeters actions in regards to my fleet or ya got any issues please PM me. I'm more than willing to edit.
Guns boomed in the deep. As the Purrgil closed in her eyes witnessed several first order vessels blast them with all they had. Her lips split in a grin as she realized they must be registering a new feeling for the first time.
Fear.
Alas the blasts from the head vessels lanced two of the Purrgils eyes, boiling directly into their brains. Subsonic bellows of anguish loomed across the deep. The King Purrgil took two rounds to the face as did the Supreme. And now seeing two of their brethren fall out of formation and chunks of flesh and gassy ooze stream from the flanks of their other kin, they were angry.
Very Angry.
Round after round shredded an additional two, hacking bone from flesh, rending them with super-heated plasma and turning portions to ash. Thankfully the majority of their mass continued forwards, unabated to crash directly through the enemy lines, hopefully impacting a few vessels with monstrous force. The Purrgil Supreme, Wroth-Gar issued an order to his kinfolk. The pod members still alive angered by the deaths of the other Purrgil, driven mad with grief and under the orders of their Overlord surged.
As soon as the remaining broke the lines, they went in every which direction like a tide of a hurricane. Giant maws opening, attempting to take bites of the side of vessels, tails whipping, bodies crashing about like sharks in chum filled waters.
"Purrgil's have taken a hit Ma'am. Were under heavy fire!"
Silara took another drag of her cig, noting the locations of Cathul and Jorus as well as the other fleet elements. They were about to draw first blood. She had only one function here, one course of action.
Cut the head from the snake.
"Roger that. All remaining fleet, surround the FIV Pellaeon. I want their broadsides within meters of the enemy."
"And then?" The young XO Gulped.
"Fire at will. Pound them."
The helmsman turned.
"We've lost sensors."
"We have eyeballs do we not? Use them, carry it out."
And thus they did begin to envelop the Gargantuan destroyer like a blob of parasitic fleas on a dog. Qekoth weaponry that bypassed all but molecular shields began to fire, half rate so as to maintain shields. The Jast Disablers opened their thousands of combined Ion cannons. The Tof Royal classes opened up with their archaic looking broadsides, crews cheering from the decks, hanging from the rigging's.
The ANS Resolute Vengeance II, her own vessel rose aiming its prow directly for the bridge.
Location: High atmosphere
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"]
"These craft are coming in too fast!" Dividend complained over tightbeam comms.
"These enemies were hoping for a quick resolution to this fight: they are instead moving out of range after one kill. Let them go; giving chase to such an opponent is foolhardy at best: return to the pods, but do keep an eye open for other squadrons"
Just because I handled myself adequately in independent command of a squadron in the Silken Asteroids doesn't mean it will always be played out that way. Going back to chase landing craft is likely to do as much difference as a drop in a bucket, but that will probably beat chasing spectres that have more mobility than everyone else under my command. Then again, am I really fit for engaging other elite pilots? Or am I part of the ORC's elite just because I proved adept in dogfighting against the enemies' regulars? What does eliteness even mean in this context? Does it relate to the ability to score kill the regulars, or does it relate to the ability to fight against the best individual pilots? she thought, while realizing that the enemy has simply moved out of effective weapons range. Only the enemy's maneuverability could have saved it from a more gruesome fate. Since Dano has been ineffective, because he was now out of range of the enemy squadron, her squadron was on her own. Especially since any backup was held up by purgills and the space kraken. So she will simply have the squadron go back to fighting the pods for the time being.
"Dano, if you can receive this, looks like you are out of range from us; please concentrate on the landing pods or supporting ORC ground forces as practicable. We will fight landing pods at higher altitudes" she instructed [member="Dano Dil"] over comms, while somewhat spotty.
"Great bird of the galaxy, Jay tell me you're getting this you son of a bantha!"
Mynock lowered the macrobinoculars from his eyes, a look of astonishment on his flushed face. Cracking open another Corellian ale, he scattergunned the can in just a few seconds, cheap alcohol dribbling down his full on safari ensemble. The khaki pants, the pocket-filled vestshirt, the pith helmet. It was one of the few pieces on nature he had ever attempted, and Mynock Dubrillion was the type of man who commits to something.
In the rusted out cockpit next to him was a Hologlide J57 cam droid which Dubrillion had quite un-affectionately nicknamed Jay. Despite urgent protests from his attorneys, J57 followed him wherever he went and was used both for work and more...personal reasons. The sheer amount of incriminating data stored in Jay's membuffers was probably enough to make its master wanted in at least seven systems.
"Whoa that was a close one!" he shouted in excitement as a TIE fighter streaked by in hot pursuit of some older model Outer Rim patrol craft, "Alright we're clear! Frame me up for our establishing shot!"
Stumbling to his feet, both from the turbulence of explosions going off in orbit all around them and because he was on eight distinct forms of high grade tranquilizer, Mynock coughed and waved the smoke out of the cabin as best he was able. A haze still lingered from the hookah which he had until recently been taking liberal pulls of. Dubrillion tilted his head and nudged J57 over roughly so all his drug paraphernalia was out of view.
"And here we see the purrgil in their natural habitat," Mynock's voice changed completely, smoothing out into a lulling cant that could only be at home in some wildlife holodoc. An exploding TIE streaked by, momentarily eclipsing the nearest school of purgill visible behind, "Well...more or less."
Location: Descending into Atmosphere
Objective: Destroy landing pods
Allies: ORC
Enemies: First Order
As taxation squadron flew into the fight, they drew the TIE squadron away from the range of Dano's guns. He turned the turret towards the planet and the landing crafts that had passed. He attempted to pick them off as they descended. He knew that everyone of those pods that landed added another challenge to the ground forces.
"V1, Pursue landing crafts. Get me in closer to them. We'll give them a good chase." Dano knew full well that his ship wasn't fast enough for a chase like that, but his guns were.
Location: FIV Concordia Objective: Monitor Allies: The First Order | [member="Kou'ha Escala"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition | The Alliance in Exile | [member="Kaine Australis"]
A mounting pressure within the Major’s moribund inclined mind edged a miniature release which took the outward form of the tiniest of sighs. Diminutive enough to perhaps go unnoticed by the untrained eye and ear, but to an expert politician with the crushing gaze that was the Lady of Steel, a signal flare. To further the compounding complications involved with this situation was the expectation of ruination. This would be a mistake. A waste of their time. There were hundreds of reasons not to continue this course that could possibly paint the Almanian immigrant in a light so beyond the pale that it was enough to make her feel what had to be imagined cramps rolling down her flanks into the pit of hip to threatened to ache and send the woman tumbling for yet another private stall to throw away a few more hours in cascading regret.
But there they were; each a note chiming from some long forgotten instrument, each a kind of relic from a different age. Sitting in the midst of yet another spreading war -another conflict where so many talented people would be lost in blenders, chords and triads drowned out by the chaotic, manic pace of machine gun bursts and turbolaser blasts. It had to be madness, this kind of fear and pride. Utter insanity drove these vast governments and their proxies to conflict, and she felt the crushing tonnage of what felt natural and what felt like a forced show to appease some sense of propriety.
Sybil’s face ticked slightly at the sound of her given name, reluctant that for official purposes there had to be something listed on the manifest -but she knew that should be taken as a sign of openness. At least that is what she had to assume, because otherwise this was dead before it could even begin. She paused, suddenly startled by her neck and chest feeling freezing cold despite the fact both were snug under a silk ascot and wool vest. Her shoulders bopped once an inch this way, then that, as though the Major was actually trying to find the best way to advance -as though there was some answer that made sense past the sides of Grand Moff’s cheeks. Slipping. This was slipping away. In the maelstrom of mounting confusion her blues eyes flickered down and away towards floor, similar in dexterity to an insect frantically seeking asylum in shadow. Eventually the absurdity of the moment pushed the Fallanassi to catch Natasi’s eyes, and in that moment, engrossed in that world of darkness the connection, finally removed from any semblance of sense she found the strength to carry out the guilty deed.
“M’lady, do. . . you think that women like us- beg pardon!” She shook her head quickly, waving out her rebellious licks of auburn out. “I don’t mean to imply we’re on the same level. Nay, not even the same stratosphere. But. Do you think a person like you; a person like me -with everything we are responsible for- do you think we deserve peace of mind? Should we ever be… close with someone, despite the risk or the target it makes?” Something caused her to look down at her white gloved hands, the useless digits laid palm up on her knees about as useless as her current effect on the operation.
“Is closeness, love, simply beneath us? Should we eschew it? Avoid it? Push everyone away, always? Is it worth the pain and nuisance it causes?” Sybil had to take a deep breath for this next missile because this is where she might be crossing the line -but she had to know. Even if the reaction was a fiery dismissal the lesson learned would prove more beneficial.
“Knowing, and with utmost respect I ask, how it ended with your late husband: was it worth---?”
At this point an orange glow caught upon the face of the Grand Moff and she turned to face the source. The Major, anxious to the point of coiling like a tightly spun wire of copper, spun about her chair with all the grace of ostrich jabbing its body to face a new source of annoyance. Grimacing, her glasses became awash in the harsh orange of the leviathan swimming across the sector.
“... Bloody whales and now this? Wha...?” She double checked the sensors to see if there was some sort malfunction, leaving the seat and topic from before dangling and discarded as a rush of activity possessed the situation room -various operatives and crew members manning their stations and trying their best to wrestle communication issues.
The Fallanassi, wanting to appraise her agents below of the deteriorating disposition of forces, tried to access her own comms directly, but her efforts were greeted by a loud screech.
::REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!::
“Crickey.” Sybil flinched, hissing at the pain in her ear before producing her datapad before furiously typing, trying to find a means to be useful to the people she was supposed to be watching over.
Objective: Secure a Position Allies: First Order Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition
Whipping through the area was Azula Merr, almost attached to her speederbike as she approached her destination. Distant sounds of battle echoed through the city. Most of it far from Azula's position. Her target was rather quiet. She slowly released the throttle of the bike, causing it to slow down as she approached her target. Her eyes scanned the area. It was rather quiet. It seemed that the curfew put forth by the First Order scared the civilians indoors. Made Azula's job easier. She rode her speederbike firther until she was directly in front of her objective.
Azula left her bike in a nearby alleyway, covering it with a fine cloth tarp, hiding it from view. She moved calmly, watching her surroundings for any ambush or incoming enemies, but it seemed like that part of town was largely ignored. She figured she had the time she needed to set up a defensive position. Immediately upon entering the starport, Azula began searching for any civilians hiding there while also checking for enemy vessels. She would need to set up a position fast, before someone realizes what she was doing.
Location: Palace grounds Objective: 3; coerce/convince the king, probably get to him first Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Tobias Wrynn"] | FO Enemies: [member="Julius Sedaire"] (directly engaging, eventually) | [member="Jaius Sovv"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Krenis Skirata"] | ORC
What the Imperials considered a significant amount of resistance Keira saw as not even par for the course, as she'd gone in expecting to get shot at much more than what had already transpired. So maybe their weapons were set to stun for a reason, she could see that now. Still, it made her wonder where the real resistance found itself. It was all well and good that these people were defending their home, but she was here because she'd been expecting more. And although she wouldn't admit it aloud, or even to herself directly, she'd been anticipating him from the beginning, as much as she at the same time didn't want to. There was something poetic to be said about putting the final nail in the coffin, no matter how devastating.
They all moved as one, the three-hundred-sixty-degree vision of her HUD allowing her to keep watch from all angles. After the first squib was dropped she knew for certain they'd drawn their share of attention, and it was only a matter of time before their position was converged upon. The next seeming combatant that stepped out she fired on with a stun bolt, watching only to be sure the creature crumpled and was still breathing after the fact, but no more. A shame she couldn't feel the Force anymore, but maybe that was a blessing in this case.
She marked the stairwell they were heading towards in her HUD, meanwhile scanning all possible hiding places for any manner of threat, forcing herself to stop playing through all the scenarios with him in it. He was, at the end of the day, an enemy just like the rest of those she faced, and she couldn't afford to pull punches. It wasn't likely he would do the same, after all. There would be no stun rounds, no non-lethal hits. They could deduct it from her paycheck later if they needed to.
As Castiel tried to discern what sorts of people they were, he didn't have long to wait. Over his shoulder he heard one of their Stormtrooper liasons give the order to move. He'd indulge the trooper, they should move. He could feel eyes on them, from where he couldn't tell but as they approached the first large structure he could feel something ominous lurking in the shadows.
The Auxiliary Sergeant hadn't known much about Skor II, even the briefings given to the Ninth Legion were sparse at best. *Dog people, Salvage World, Lots of debris.* What had rumor had been passed beyond that was scattered, fragmented stories of the Graug, of the Yuuzhan Vong. Long ago the Sith had desolated the planet, pockets of the darkness infused creatures yet lingering in the darkest places of the planet. According to the mission reports from the First Order's last attempt at seizing the embattled planet, they'd even come face to face with them.
Castiel couldn't help but feel they may yet again come face to face with the creatures. A moment later, feeling turned to reality. Ahead as the Auxiliary Sergeant continued forward towards a large opening which appeared to be a bay door of some kind, he saw the shadows begin to take form. He didn't hesitate. Ahead, the scaly flesh of a massive Graug was illuminated by the light at the end of his weapon.
*Fzzzaaatt!*
Depressing the trigger on his weapon of choice, Castiel ducked low as he dodged to his left and nestled himself against a thick durasteel plate. Eyes tracking the large creature as he did so, Castiel watched the blaster bolt strike the beast in the chest - with little effect. *What devilry is this...* As the Auxiliary Sergeant raised his weapon to take aim again, the Graug bellowed loudly, a chorus of echoes emanating from deeper within the warehouse. *Fething hells.* Castiel grumbled.
"Graug in the warehouse!" he shouted, reaching for the nape of the Thrall beside him. Unmoving, the Thrall looked dazed. "Get in cover you dolt." he snapped.
Location: Metrobig City Objective: Assault. Allies: TSE|FO [member="Alkor Centaris"] Enemies: ORC. Anyone standing in his way | [member="Yula Perl"] (Now) | [member="Zef Halo"]
The split-second view had been enough for Elian to get an idea of the battlefield.
Oh, it was a market to some, but all that Eli saw were corners and killing grounds and potential liabilities. He ignored the civilians streaming past him (it would have been a good way to cause chaos, but the opportunity was already gone) and crashed through them. They made way and that made him a target. Somewhere Elian knew that others were joining him, other Stormtroopers, but also Mandalorians. He ignored all of that as well, his goal was singular.
The girl.
Even the image of her face hurt his head and he didn't know why.
It made him angry. His elbow crashed into a soldier (could they really be called soldiers? All scruff and makeshift weapons.) causing them fall to the side. A micro-explosion (Zef's particular rifle) shattered the duracrete nearby, causing sharp rock shrapnel to dash into his armor. Some of it scrapped against his shoulder, but Elian ignored it.
Location: Survey Site Tagge Objective: Survey and Clear Survey Site Tagge in Preparation for Pre-fab Deployment Allies: The First Order | [member="Hatori Ikari"] | [member="Decima Fortan"] | [member="Castiel Moncrief "]| [member="Rhun Trask"] Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition | Graug Remnants | [member="Alm"] | [member="T-3"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"]
There it was. The sudden deluge of violence flowing towards a pointed crescendo. Rae didn’t expect the auxiliary team to give a damn about which way she turned or ran off to, and she preferred it that way. It even would mean little if any them started dropping to the brunt of an attack. Personally, she was more than comfortable with embracing the infinite sea of nothingness. Perhaps this was the real reason why she was attached to advance with an expendable assault team.
Supreme Leader was wise. Hail Supreme Leader. What a laugh.
She spat, disregarding any calls for cover as other people scrambled for safety, but the Knights of Ren's very own nihilist in a blue cape hunched her shoulders over so that the armorweave fabric would flow over her chest and stomach, advancing upon the animals opposing.
“Hit. Me.” She wheezed, nearly possessed completely as the life signatures in the Force bayed out to her like beacons. Just like the pandemonium aboard the interdictors during the blockade what felt like a lifetime ago against the now dead Alliance. Of course, the true disturbance were the presences approaching the sides of this projected forward operating base.
