Your Faith In Your Friends Is Yours | TSE Invasion of TRA Held Gree Hex

[Romi Jade]

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GREE ENCLAVE​

Shipyards​

WITH: [member="Aten Ramses"]​

ENEMIES: [member="Jairus Starvald"] & [member="Dante Sotari"]​

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Spoiler

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Spoiler

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She turned up her face to his comment, "Working my nerves..." she said mocking him, "And if I need more credits...I'll just sell your stuff." That last of what she said simmered out, turning her attention back to the situation. I mean she was notorious for stealing their things.

A twitch of her eye, she came to a revelation just as she traced scarlet snakes in her determination to stonewall any stray fire. While they were able to advance, it wasn't enough for her. With what was at stake..."We've gotta get moving!" She broke into a light jog, "You four with me, Aten lets go! The rest will hold the hangar."

She made a solid drive forward, stepping wide with a saber motion to match. Cutting into formation, she allowed for some cover while the others made their transition from the front line. Light on her feet, the last bolt she caught mid-air as she fell from a spin that placed her ahead of her group.

Romi spied lone figures breaking away from the fighting rather than fully engaging, them scurrying away down the alien squares; this was why she gave pursuit in the first place. Long strides, she vaulted forward in a rush to close space. Though before any attempt at action she found herself stopping to scan the several corridor openings and again spotted her prey attempting to disappear around technical high wall and pillars she'd never seen before.

With two branching off to break their chase, she kept her pacing as she either deflected or dodged blaster rounds. In her tunnel vision she plowed through with the aid of her own team. Thumbing her lightsaber back into its slumber, she fell into a light jog before she felt a chill lace around her spine and crawl its way towards her neck; she had a feeling.

Edging around the next corner, there were more corridors.

"What is this place..." she mused to herself.

She went with her gut, "Form pairs...we'll each take one. Aten you're with me. Keep the lines open." She nodded before the others began their quests.

 

[Progflaw99]

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Allies: The Rebel Alliance
Enemies: The Sith Empire​

Engaging: [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] (Eventually)​

- - -​

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Alarm lights lit up Atlas' control panel like the rising sun over a low horizon. It didn't take him long to figure out why. Apart from the obvious blanket of Sith Empire forces engaging the Rebel Alliance forces there was an even larger shadow cast - a vessel of enormous size, flanked by ships already classified as Star Destroyers in Atlas' mind. This.. This was a dreadnought. At first the sight of the behemoth confused him - had the Sith constructed yet another war machine?

Atlas dismissed that idea almost immediately - the construction was different than the others. It even seemed to be operating independently, no weapons fire coming from the beast. What he did see however were hordes of TIE pattern ships swarming ahead of the strange formation. *The First Order... here.* His heart dropped for a moment, despair threatening to crash in on him. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back into action.

"Alright Three, we're gonna be fine. Let's get this thing started."​

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BB-3 was a stubborn little droid but when the seconds really mattered, it was all work and no play. A silent transmission was sent to the other X-wings powered down on the edge of the system, a coordinated action order. On cue, each one powered on its systems and fired up their engines. In unison and complete silence they shot free of the small debris field and formed up on Atlas' wing. Far enough off at the moment, he figured it would be a few minutes before their presence became readily apparent, by then he hoped to have come up with a strategy for avoiding or getting past the massive fighter screens lighting up his display. Muttering under his breath, Atlas whispered to himself.

"Here we go - no turning back now."
​

 

[Amea Virou]

Enemy: [member="Koda Fett"], of the Sith Empire
Location: Gree, Ground

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The fists seemed to reach out and collide against the man’s armor to the rhythm of her heart. The quickened pace brought about a sense of peace within her, and with each impact she felt her confidence grow ever bolder. Yet as she was about to back off she felt something wrap around her arms. She managed to slip her right arm out of its grip, but it was too late for the left. A firm grasp tightened around her wrist and it only grew worse. What started as a pinch grew unbearable fast. She tried to struggle against it but the grip grew even tighter, beyond what she had expected of a mere man’s grip.

Crushgaunts. Yet no sooner than the thought popped into her mind she would find herself dazed by a collision against her nose and forehead. Her free hand reached up to grab against it on instinct. Her knee began to give way as the pain grew to levels she couldn’t handle. Blood ran down her nose and by the corner of her lips. Her lips that split into a loud screech from the pain.

She fell to her knee, her mind focusin on creating a rough barrier between her arm and the crushing gauntlet before she managed to pry herself out. A distinct burning sensation had spread across her arm but she did her best to ignore it. Fractured at best, broken at worst. That was what got her moving in the end.

Her foot moved up to smash against his groin. It was cheap but she needed the wiggle room. WIth luck she could use it to push herself off of him. With greater luck she would get the chance to back away and inspect the damage.

It was all she could think to do.

It was all that she could do.

 

[The Lurking Presence]

ALLIES: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
ENEMIES: TRA | Cedric Grayson | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
OBJECTIVE: Survive and take control of the Hangar
GEAR: Zelroth's Rest

It was an aberrant sort of sensation, the martial instinct of Zelroth, gifting Belphaegor with a frightful prowess he had otherwise lacked. Eternally judicious of Alchemy, Sorcery, and all things strange. What Zelroth provided, had become an invaluable asset. Shrewd, yet explosively feral, his body knew every facet absent the forethought of a brimful mind.

As a wraith, the Maenan prowled forward, his ghastly pale flesh and chalk white hair aglow in the radiant chaos. Blooms of red energy, bleached by the silvery sheen of his Lightsaber, leaving him forever drenched in a spectral sheen as Belphaegor waded through the vicious butchery of the Acerbitas' Hangar Bay. Each move forward exacted with complete rigor.

There was confusion and hesitation in the enemy at first, Marines too timid to fire their Blasters, for fear of the Sith Knight simply deflecting them back. Or perhaps left frigid and dull witted from the obscene rampage [member="Matsu Xiangu"] had whispered in to the minds of their allies. Hard men made soft. A swift dive from Zelroth's Rest, cut with a slender angle, burning through a man with frightening ease, his remains peeling apart from left shoulder to hip. Those blue eyes of his still blinking, expression lost in a wash of pain and confusion as he faded away during his fall, the silence of his Blaster Rifle one less voice in the crowd that could harass the Sith.

What may have, in reality, played out in minutes. To all those in the Hangar Bay, this Skirmish for territory felt like an aeon.

Prior to the abrupt, and clever maneuver of [member="Cedric Grayson"], denying entry to further Sith Reinforcements. This had merely played out as a matter of time affair, eventually a tipping point would have been reached, and the Rebels would have had to retreat or surrender to the ultimate defeat of death. Now, it appeared, the tides had shifted. Now the men and women of The Sith Order were not only faced with certain defeat, but even worse, the shame of failing their Emperor.

But as all of the proverbs seemed to agree; No things were fiercer, than beasts trapped in a corner. The consequence of those sobbing hydraulics, as they sealed the Empire in, did just that.

Made men in to beasts.

Much of the Sith's Command Structure had found itself obliterated in the brief stanza that opened the battle, their torrid bodies left fried and oozing. [member="Tabigarashu Madara"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"] and Belphaegor, while they held complete Authority in their endeavors, were regarded as Special Missions Assets. Next in line, [member="Kyrel Ren"], a Contracted Warrior through the First Order, had seemingly already managed to break through the Oppositions Line of Defense.

All moving parts taken thoughtfully in to consideration, the duty transferred down to Garyk Zavir, more widely recognized as Sergeant Quasar, a sobriquet he'd acquired after nearly a decade as a Flametrooper. Rumor had it, if you opened his veins, he bled Ignition Fuel. One could imagine the moment of embarrassment he was having, considering that, in a brief interval of distraction, where he'd found himself gawking at Cedric as he took to the air, he'd lost his Flamethrower in his mad scramble to drag himself out from under the A-Wing that came crashing down at the end of the Jedi's Repulse.

"Who the kark has TactLead?! " He gruffly probed for answers, hastily lobbing himself against the overturned vehicle for a moments peace as he retrieved a SIF-7 from his hip holster.

"You do. . . Sir? " Replied a Trooper to his right, with more hastily huddling in.

"Kark me! " Zavir growled, pausing to eye down the Hangar Bay from safety. "Alright, raise Operation Control, tell them we need an immediate Fighter Wing to strafe this door down. Reroute Transport Traffic to BP Rokak'k."

"On it! "

There was another pause as Sergeant Quasar drank in the fight, from his position he could see Belphaegor and Cedric, they were roughly six-and-one half meters apart, the Sith poised to strike - waiting for the right moment to make his move before rushing in. Right now, the Sergeant simply didn't have time to stop and watch the action as it would unfold, instead, the Legion needed to move, needed to get right in the faces of these worthless Rebel Rags and get dirty. Keep them from utilizing their Heavy Infantry Canons.

"Alright! On me, Rotworms! All Units deploy foward! " The Sergeant demanded over the Comm, before hastily retreating from cover to turn this horror in to an absolute transcendent nightmare.

 

[WolfMortum]

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Objective: Link up with Rebel Forces.​

Starfighter: ETA-4 Interceptor.​

Supporting: The Rebel Alliance.​

Opposition: [member="Alkor Centaris"].​

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A wake of air streamed off of the corner of either wing as the Interceptor shot through the clouds over Gree, the little craft rapidly descending as the turbo-fire of the greater ships sought to take him down from Orbit over the world. Their distance however too great, the flak that exploded around Veiere was fortunately too wide-spread and inaccurate to hit the little bird. "What's the status of the Errant Venture?" Veiere asked, glancing to the terminal in-front of him as if the Astromech co-pilot could see his face through it.

The little droids response wasn't in any way the positive outcome that Veiere had been hoping for. [member="Vanessa Vantai"]'s fleet had managed to overrun the Heavy Cruiser rather easily with their limited numbers and from what three-nine could work out, the ship was no longer in the same space as Gree. It was still possible that Vikras and the others had managed to escape, though were they to have been overrun and boarded, Force only knows what that meant in store for their future. They had come here because of Veiere's asking favor and now the chances were unlikely that they'd escape Sith Space (not that Gree was classed as such).

Another sharp whistle came through the fighters internal speaker as 39C8 (The droid) notified Veiere of the upcoming settlement, large and already coming into few through the front of his canopy, the sight of the Capital City accompanying the droids notice of outbound transmissions both friendly and otherwise. "Yeah I'm seeing it now too...-That's where we're headed then I guess. Hopefully our luck changes and we can find out who's responsible for Gree's defense..", not to mention the evacuation of civilian lives. There was also the fact that he currently held no way of getting back home, though that was a concern he would deal with should he survive the encounter.

Taking the fighter lower to the surface, Veiere guided the small craft to the outskirts of the Capital City where he would proceed on foot armed with his lightsabers if and when the need arose. The days of his youth were long behind him, so too were many of his former strengths and Allies. What would come of this day however, Veiere imagined only foul. Across the sky, he could hear the clatter of blaster-fire and the sounds of peoples fighting one another, the sounds of war. As daunting as it was, it would be that direction that the old fool would head towards in order to make some sort of a difference, or otherwise die trying.

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Location: Gree Enclave, Shipyards
With: [member="Romi Jade"]
Enemies: [member="Dante Sotari"], [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Equipment: See Sig

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Eyes rolling at Romi’s statement Aten smirked. Whether Romi would truly do such a thing or not was up in the air. What others would call stealing his master referred to as finessing. Aten himself earned his living as perhaps one of the youngest if not the youngest bartended on Taris. Not something the average Jedi would do as they busied themselves with missions in the name of the light. Those missions however didn’t keep food on the table, and Aten ate a lot. Eyes tracking the troopers that pulled back Aten was right behind his master what bolts passed her the Morellian using his gauntlets to soak up, his hands and body in constant motion. What blaster bolts struck the gauntlets simply dissipated on contact with the phrik shell or was deflected into the ceiling.

The further they delved into the facility the more alien the creation became. The walls seemed to hum with power, black walls with thin lines of thrumming light spreading across it. Different colored beams of light intersected branching off on the walls and it was these that lit the halls instead of panels in the ceiling. With Romi at the lead, Aten protected the rear thus providing the mundane troops with more than enough cover. Lightsaber snapping up to his hand once more his back to the rebels Aten backed up the bronze blade casting an awkward glow when combined with that of the lights incorporated in the walls.

Continuing his pace Aten eventually came to a stop when he bumped into the squad of Rebels that had been following Romi. “If you truly think splitting up is the best idea…” Aten wasn’t the most confident in this environment, a star destroyer, a jungle, or even under the ocean in some facility the boy would’ve been fine. The technological horror or marvel was something the Morellian simply couldn’t comprehend. Moving to Romi’s side Aten’s saber activated he made his way down the corridor Romi faced. Down it he saw the white armor of the legionnaires retreating around a corner. “There they go!”

Before giving chase Aten looked to his master. “Do you think they want us to follow them? Could they be leading us into a trap? Or are they possibly in league with whomever built this… Monstrosity?”

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Yammka Fleet
[member="Cerbera"]

The alarms sounded, some silent, some loud, but all contained within the field.

While Ophidia's appearance retained its calm demeanour, inside she was racing. Her mind plotted option after option, but she only saw one plan that could feasibly end up with the two of them coming out alive. But that plan hinged on them having the element of surprise, and that was fading fast. She flashed a smile to Cerbera as their thoughts converged on the same solution

The Pale rose to her full height, hands clasping behind her back in a posture of dignified dominance.

"Captain Bjus, ready your ship and crew. It seems now is the time to take them by surprise and make our escape." The Captain snapped to attention. They all knew it was the one and only plan at this point.

The captain responded, words quick and to the point, but without intent of insult.

"The Xiphos will punch a hole. I suggest Yammka Fleet form up first and leave a dedicated space for us to pierce through, then we slip through the gap and escape" Akito jumped off the Captain's shoulder, her little mouth moving as she carried out the Captain and her master's orders

"Where to, My Lord?" He asked at last. "We will meet the Sith Imperial fleets on Gree."

She was not a military strategist, but she knew how to assume a position of authority if she needed to. In this moment she was more like the delegater than the command. She simply employed her station to put in action the plan everyone had pieced together on their own. Though, some may have disagreed with the decision of approaching the planet of Gree.

The Xiphos Class Super Star Dreadnought rose from the asteroid field, finding a clear path and knocking aside the dormant asteroids surrounding it; the ship's engines roared to life. It had employed its advanced cloaking systems to stay hidden and kept its engines cool to prevent detection. Now, it would flare up as the massive ship prepared for ramming speed.

The Rebel ships that had triggered the alarm would stare in confusion at their sensors when they saw the peculiar readings, and then find themselves facing the surprise attack of the Yammka Fleet, and then the piercing prow of the Sith Empire's newest deadly weapon

She just hoped it was enough.

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Exact Location: Somewhere in Gree space, aboard the Technicolor Beat
Allies: [member="The Slave"], [member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Faye"], @A'lah The Green One, The Rebel Alliance
Foes: [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Garen Kalkat"], [member="Adrian Vandiir"], The Sith Empire
Directly Engaging: [member="Nixia Amabilia"], [member="Darth Arabris"]

He didn't need to be advised twice. Target prioritizing was a luxury only the armchair-bound admirals and generals could afford. Judas, being a man of superior intellect and class, just selected the largest of the foes and charged it. For the most part, it was the soundest tactic he could think of, and probably a better one that what the strategos had cobbled together.

"Looking for the scariest of the bunch?" A synthetic voice chimed around him. Despite sprinting down the corridor, past legions of droids and drugged-up bystanders, Cybele had managed to zero in on him quite well. "Three signatures, one of them is rather large. One hundred meters straight, take a left, then I'll open the blast door for you."

Heavy, labored breathing was his response. Tearing through entire ships at Mach 1 had apparently become a habit of his - this was the second time in a month, and the cardio was already catching up to him. Even the Force couldn't stave off the fire coursing through him. It trickled like molten rock, snaking its way slowly into each and every muscle. It hurt, but the hurt was good.

He took a left, shoving a woman out of his way. A few more fell, roused out of their orgiastic splendor. Police droid snatched them up quickly, hardly handling them any more politely than he had, so response teams could quell the growing threat.

"Behind there," Cybele called, oddly unnerved by all of the chaos, "Opening in three."

Three seconds was enough to bathe the Betrayer in his own crimson fluids. The doors hissed open and Judas stepped in with impunity. Nearly as quickly as they received him, they were closing tightly. Lights flickered down the corridor, a jungle of electric cable hung from every other damaged metallic panel. Embers across the bulkhead grew with each passing second, matching the pace of the creature stomping down the hall.

Reptilian; its rider the shade of the burning fire. Something else behind him caught his senses, though it seemed far less dangerous than the thing coming straight at him.

A coarse, guttural snarl erupted from the warrior as he sent himself flying towards the beast. Incisors bared ferociously, adrenaline firing through thick veins, eyebrows furrowed with pure malice.

 

[Koda Fett]

OBJECTIVE: Secure Gree Technology Capture Miner
ALLIES: The Sith Empire
ADVERSARIES: The Rebel Alliance, [member="Amea Virou"]

He'd be lying if he claimed to of expected that.

It'd been a long time since anyone dared to strike at the Fett Family Jewels.

​The Bounty Hunter jolted upwards once the knee collided with his groin, and despite the thick armour that encased it he couldn't help but feel an instinctive piece of pain. Almost as if the anticipation of pain itself created it, a swirling feeling within his stomach and the inability to move properly was created. His grip slid off of her wrists, allowing Amea to go free. Fett remained almost motionless in that period of recovery, however brief.

In this moment he wanted one thing, and one thing only: distance.

His left wrist soared upwards and let loose an arc of flames. They poured forth from his gauntlet in Amea's direction, almost ready to encompass her entirely if there wasn't an act of avoiding them that took place. Koda back-pedalled, though. Stepping away, gaining distance. This strike wasn't pleasurable, and it surely couldn't happen again.

Ailyn smacked her own palm against her forehead, her vision blurry and her memory confusing. It'd all come to in time, but for now she didn't quite know what was going on.

 

[Nixia Amabilia]

Location: Aboard the Technicolor
Direct Allies: [member="Darth Arabris"]
Direct Enemies: [member="Judas Foster"]
Equipment: See first post on pg2

Now was the time? Before Nixia could speak the [member="Darth Arabris"] mounted the reptilian creature with a haste and the two left the ship! As the bay doors opened The young Acolyte smirked watching the sith leap from the transport into open space. it was crazy to think about but the only thing between her and the cold blanket of space was a thin layer of shielding. A chill ran down her spine as she fell in a trance. Slapping a rebreather mask on her face the Icarrii followed suit. Rushing off the transport with a dive through the shielding. The difference was black and white. Before there were alarms, now there was nothing. The mild breaths she took echoed within her mask and the coldness of space nipped her body briefly. Weightless in space she drifted with surprising speed. Quietly she watched her elder clear the room of major threats, which left Nixia with the scraps. Entering through the layer of shielding and rolling into the Technicolors docking bay. Sound returned to her senses in spades. " What a karking mess..." she said aloud. Her left hand balled to form a fist activating her Light-shield which was quite large for her smaller frame. Stray blaster fire bounced harmlessly away from her apon contact.

Directly down the hall a new figure appeared, And though the docking bay was quite large... for some reason the space seemed to grow smaller in the Acolytes mind. He wield a large blade that baffled Nixias mind and the bloodlust he displayed in his movements frightened her. What a brute of a man or being. Whatever he was.. Savagery.

" Move!" She told herself and charged in after a brief pause toward the action. It would take her a minute to catch up with her beast riding brother.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

“You will not posture yourselves before me and ignite fear in my men, Sith.”
“The Gree have retreated, and you will not make them craven either. If you have any generosity, let them leave as a neutral party; to save their land, people, and way of life.”

“What say you?”

"I say you misunderstand your opponent, Jedi. Your foolish lot seem to have a habit of it, and the last one to do such to me..." Voracitos smiled, as a grubby hand caressed a summoned lagomorphic foot, severed from its substantially tall donor by his lightsaber. "Well, I gave him a lesson in understanding." The Coven members beside him remained rather silent, but their mirth and impatience was clear in their intentions in the force. They were all preparing for Chaos to break loose, and unleash the addictive allure of the Nethermancy Voracitos bestowed upon them.

"Today, it would seem, I will have to give a full demonstration of my vast generosity. See before you the servants of the dark side," Voracitos gestured to his Hungered Vassals, and their many Subjects behind them, "...imbued with the harshest spirits of Chaos, pulled from the Netherworld of the force. Each one is in service to me because they know that without my generosity, they are nothing. Soon, your people shall know this fact, and shall humbly submit themselves to my craven gifts. For you though, I think I shall leave you in a state similar to the last Jedi who mistook my power as a joke. You shall witness your failure, and hopefully, you shall learn from it." Voracitos barred his yellowed in teeth in glee, and he could barely contain his desire to consume, and knew his own servants struggled as well, but wouldn't dare step forward without the word of their master.

The spidery legs of his Throne hit the ground below him, cracking it beneath under the weight of the Throne and its seated patron.

[member="Wyatt Morga"]

 

[Wyatt Morga]

Making a speech, hoping to delay the inevitable...

Allies: TRA │ Me.
Enemies: [member="Alkor Centaris"] │ [member="Kor Vexen"] │ [member="Darth Voracitos"] │ [member="Vestille Thumahra"] │ [member="Djorn Bline"] │ [member="Khaji Ri'Had"]

Every second counted.

As rebels moved, setting up more permanent fortifications, Wyatt kept up his hope of distraction. He knew well enough that sending the Sith running off ‘generosity’ wasn’t going to work, but the Jedi couldn’t help but hope it’d work. Scratching the scruff on his chin, he responded after the prolonged monologue offered in return to his initial challenge;

“It is not me who will see the error of my ways, Sith.”, he called back.

Another group of rebels set up Hellfire cannons on mounts elevated above the courtyard the two groups faced down in. If things kept up, despite the numbers, the rebels had a serious chance to deal some damage.

“The Force understands your crimes, and it is sickened by the galaxy you’ve helped create.”

Hand signs and directionalized lights flashed between groups to signal they were in position as the fortifications were slowly coming together. Wyatt kept up what he could to buy them the time they needed;

“It's made me its avatar, a hierophant to show you the error of your ways.”, he said as his eyes wandered over the forces before him.

“I will not kill you, Sith, but I will end this life of yours one way or another.”

[member="Darth Voracitos"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Sir, I have visual on an inbound Starfighter." The Stormtrooper pointed toward the heavens, where the craft arced toward the city on a landing vector. Alkor followed his hand and grit his teeth.

"Got an IFF on it?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Not a known Imperial tag, at least," came the obvious reply. "And the word from up in the air is that it won't respond to hails."

"You know the drill, then." Alkor gave the order without actually giving it; because the heavy flanking him stepped forward and leveled his RPG toward the incoming fighter. It was not locked on target or incredibly accurate, but the blast could make the landing considerably bumpier for [member="Veiere Arenais"].

"I'm going ahead to see who pops out. You two stay on the current patrol- remember, engage only if you're forced. We're running a search and rescue op, not a full scale assault."

The Stormtroopers saluted once again.

Alkor increased his pace to a jog and checked his weapons and HUD. The others were trained to offer suppressing fire and work as a team. The Mando was the only one among them who could hold off a trained rebel skirmisher alone.

 

[Darth Imperia]

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The Voidlight Cathedral
[member="Verse Taggart"]
[member="Lyra Sarn"]

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She didn't say this outloud, but Imperia wasn't exactly sure what she was doing at the moment. Oh, heading to the viewing deck, obviously, but beyond that? She hadn't a fething clue. Voidlight couldn't detect much of anything in this nebula, and as for Imperia herself? Well, she was many things, but a naval tactician she was not. Ah, well. She could banthachit it until she thought of something. Improvisation was one of her strongsuits, after -

That train of thought was cut short by the sudden intrusion of a cold, digital voice, trembling with rage despite being entirely artificial.

Mistress, my hull is being breached. Sectors A3, E7, I2. Small Shuttles, slipped past my particle shields. Apologies, Mistress.

Right. That handled that. Imperia let out a brief sigh, and then opened her mouth to chastise Voidlight - but reconsidered. Now was not the time.

"It's alright, my dear - we'll see about fixing the holes in your security systems later. For now, direct any nearby security teams to the locations being breached." Then, with a smirk, Imperia turned to face Verse, her eyes flecked with amber. "Shall we split up, or would you feel better with me protecting you, hm?"

 

[Anden Fancelo]

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OBJECTIVE: Survive.
EQUIPMENT: Mark I Ghoul TIC Armor | Mark I Banshee IAW | Glie-50 Blaster Pistol
ALLIES: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
ENEMIES: [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]


As the boarding was about to begin, Fancelo was examining his somewhat fragile looking sidearm, seeing if it was prepped for the fight that was about to come. One of Fancelo's squadmates looked over him. Chuckling lightly. "El-tee, don't you think you should invest on getting a better blaster? That thing always requires a looksee inside after you use it. And you abused the hells out of it on Ession." The squadmate stated. Fancelo ceased his examination of the sidearm and holstered it, gazing over at the fellow Gravewalker. "Carmine, we're about to deploy, try to work on what you struggle the most at..." Carmine tilted his head to the side. "And what's that sir?" He asked, and almost in an instant. Fancelo answered with. "Shutting up." The squadmate chuckled and nodded in acknowledgement.

As the shuttle placed itself in the hangar, blaster fire already roared. The descent ramps lowered, providing an exit out of the shuttle and an entrance to the battle. A sergeant yelled out as the troopers filed out. "Go, you dogs, FIGHT for your Emper-..." The sergeant was silenced by the blaster fire of Rebels. Fancelo and the squadmates not minding it, they have seen worse like they have on Ession. Being one of the last individuals out of the shuttle, they head into cover. Being apart of the force of Sith troopers, however the quartet of Gravewalkers choose to head over to the furthest side of the hangar, and help eliminate any groups of rebels that may be there.

Flashing towards the present...

Luck sided with this brave squad, with the assistance of the fellow sith troopers, and the mental afflictions of the Fair Lady herself. The Gravewalkers managed to eliminate the rebels that were quite far from the jedi that was currently in the hangar, Cedric. The squad takes hold at a position, as a female squadmate is trying to mend the agonizing wounds that sizzled onto a sith trooper that was unfortunately selected by Kerrigan's fire. The female shaking her head as she struggled to stabilize the man. "What kind of Jedi does this...?" The sith trooper groaned in pain, almost curled up. Carmine sighed. "I doubt that's a jedi doing that kind of stuff, Reida." He stated, laying down some subtle and controlled fire at a distance along with Fancelo, while the last squadmate just remained providing security for Reida to do her work. "I mean hey, maybe they got a rogue sith with them. You never kno- WHOA!" Carmine and Fancelo took cover behind the large barrier as a crate struck against it, causing the pair of troopers to lose balance and fall to their sides. The crate landing a few feet close to the unknown squadmate. Who just simply backed away a bit. "Sheesh..." The male stated. Fancelo then peeked over the barrier, seeing that the tables may have turned against them. The Rebels have more of a chance to successfully defend this position. Lieutenant Fancelo looked over to the remaining Sith Forces and spoke. "Reida, forget him. We gotta help the others or this op' is a bust. Let's go." After Fancelo gave his orders, Carmine followed, and as Reida was packing up her medical kit onto her rig, the yet to be identified gravewalker popped a shot on the Sith trooper's head. A means to end the trooper's pain. Reida sighed and alongside the unknown Gravewalker, followed Fancelo and Carmine to reinforce the remainder of the sith as they charged and attack approach from the sides instead of taking shots from a distance.

 

[WolfMortum]

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Objective: Link up with Rebel Forces.​

Starfighter: ETA-4 Interceptor.​

Supporting: The Rebel Alliance.​

Opposition: [member="Alkor Centaris"].​

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From the air, the launch of the missile looked considerably harmless at first, the thin projectile traveling some few meters before it's propulsion really took form and with smoke bellowing out the backside of the rocket, the missile from the RPG was sent spiraling toward the incoming Starfighter. As if on queue with Veiere's rather expletive words cursed under his breath, Three-Nine screamed in the most robust and droid-like charm, giving the great impression of a tin can spilling it's oil in fear of certain and imminent demise.

Jerking the controls to the Fighter to the left rather urgently, Veiere heard something within the controls crack with the sharp change in momentum, the vessel turning away from the projectile just in time before it exploded mid air upon their starboard side; fire, smoke and shrapnel of metal tearing through the small crafts outer hull, the primary terminal before the old Exile flaring up in different sectors of his fighters status, reporting damages as though the tail of black smog following their lack of acceleration wasn't enough to tell him that something vital had been hit. It was there that the crafts descent turned severe and while their height from the surface of Gree could've been higher, Veiere was still thrown about the cockpit despite being securely strapped in while the fighter near nose dived, hitting a building upon the outskirts of the city and coming crashing through it in a heap of rubble and debris.

He didn't initially hear the sound of the alarms and warnings going off from within the Interceptor; Veiere's gaze was hazed and it's head hurt something most dire. It took a few minutes for him to gaze around and gradually find his bearings before sound returned to his ears and the scene before him made so much more sense and soon brought a look of desperation about him as he scrambled to unbuckle himself from the "bucket seat" of the fighter, falling to his side against the canopy frame, the glass of which had been shattered during the crash landing. Hitting the floor upon his left side, he coughed harshly, tasting blood as he reached for the hilt of one of his Lightsabers. The opposition hadn't yet reached him though he doubted it would take them long.

Climbing to his feet, his back, shoulders and head ached something horrid. The fighter he had come down in looked a wreck and it didn't take a genius to know that it had been written off; the astromech that had been paired with him for this run had literally lost it's head and the body still stuck within the roof of the craft gave one last spark as if to gasp for air before it finally died completely. Wiping his own blood from his lower lip, Veiere blinked a couple times as he eyed the lifeless droid one last time before turning and beginning toward the first line of buildings that made the outer perimeter of the City; his Robes catching in the wind and whipping around his legs as he walked in search of cover and a way to identify exactly where he had fallen from the skies overhead.

"I'm getting too old for this...".

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Allies: [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"], [member="Noah Corek"]

Enemies: (Directly Engaging) [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

You'd better hurry up Noah.

The marines held, for the moment anyway. They were old veterans from a dozen different wars, and most had fought alongside Cedric at the very beginning. They met the near-certain death of facing Sith Lords in open combat with grim resolve. Where other men would have retreated, the marines held for as long as they could. Each death was another second bought for the rebel fleet - their loss had meaning. Cedric felt pride swelling in his chest as a handful of marines continued firing their rotary cannon after taking a near direct hit from a Sith assault cannon. The gunner was missing his right arm at the elbow, but he seemed keen enough to remain right where he was.


That pride was replaced with caution as one of the Sith drew near. Cedric felt the shadow he cast long before he ever set eyes upon the man. The armored knight wasted little time in dispatching a Sith soldier that had decided to engage him with a vibroblade and turned his full attentions upon the Sith.

"It's a bit rude to come into someone's home uninvited," Cedric spoke over the chaos, his voice amplified by the empyrean. "You could have just asked for a tour. It's been a good week - we probably would have obliged." Though Cedric's visage was hidden by his helm, one could hear the competitive smile in his tone. The soldiers near him turned their attentions to the imperials supporting the SIth - they knew well enough not to interfere in a possible lightsaber duel.

"Now," he drew well within a handful of meters from the Sith, well within striking range should his would-be opponent wish it. "Why don't we order our men to stop murdering one another and talk this out like adults?" He asked just as the first strafing run on the hanger doors shook the ship to its bones. It gave him a moment of worry - a worry that was dashed as he knew the rebel starfighters would defend the closed hanger doors as much as anyone could.

 

[Noah Corek]

Allies: [member="Cedric Grayson"] - [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]

Enemies: [member="Belphaegor"] - [member="Matsu Xiangu"] - [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] - [member="Kyrel Ren"]

Equipment: Armor - Rotary Cannon - Rifle - Sidearms - Sword

"MOVE OR GET FLATTENED!" Noah yelled as he and two other marines hammered through the hallways of the Acerbitas. The Sith had boarded and had been cut off and while Noah was supposed to be there when they first boarded Cedric had given him a different mission to come in later with a couple marines and some weapons they had acquired that might help them tip the balance of the battle in the hangar. So now here he was stomping through the hallways with his normal weapons, his rifle, sidearms and sword, slung, holstered and sheathed respectively on his person.

Clutched in his hands though was the piece de resistance. A Metal Lords Industries Hyper Velocity Kinetic Firearm-Rotary Cannon-2, HVKF-RC-2 for short. The RC-2 was a masterwork of engineering. A shattergun using six rotating independent barrels utilizing a single firing mechanism, light enough to be carried by a single human, the standard rate of fire was 6,600 but because they were using the no-gravity variant it was cut to 4,000, inertial compensators and a special harness made the recoil very manageable as well. In all it was the perfect weapon to say, hose down a Sith filled hangar?

And as Noah and the two marines came within a few meters of the hangar that exactly what they intended to do but not without a little pizzazz. Noah keyed his comm to a person he had had slice into the hangars speakers. "Hit it Rokar." He said to the Rodian slicer who chuckled and hit play on a music device and within the hangar a song begin to play. As the Noah and his companions finally made their entrance to the hangar he heard the beginning lines of the song and grinned like a madman. Raising his voice so he could be heard over the music and shouted. "HIT THE DECK!" As soon as he shouted he began to spin up his RC-2 and opened up.

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Koda Fett"]

Fire. It clung to her arm, made her writhe as it lend a kiss of unbearable heat on she shoulder as the fabric of her jacket began to heat up and combust. She backed away from the man with a frustrated grit of her teeth as her free arm proceeded to tear the jacket arm away from the rest of her. She discarded the burning sleeve on the ground and looked around for ways to regain the upper hand.

From the corner of her eyes she could see only one thing. A stumbling, uncertain thing. No, not a thing: someone. Amea let her hand extend towards one of the blasters on the ground as she slowly walked up to the dazed and confused woman trying to find her way back to conscious thought or awareness. Yet that was far from Amea’s thought.

“Rise and shine, fether.” The brunette hissed before she stomped against the blonde’s hindleg to force her down on her knees again. Amea took a careful step out of the reach of any sweeping kick before she pointed her gun straight at the center mass.

“I have tried being reasonable, I have tried every solution I could care to think of.” She said and looked at the man. “I told you once before, leave this place.”

“This is on you, this is what you are bringing upon yourself.”

In the earpiece she heard the whisper from the ship. It was loaded up, the survivors were ready to go.

“Leave without me. Come back in an hour.” Amea whispered before she looked back at the man.

“Drop your weapon, hunter, if you value your friend’s life.”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor swept the scene with the muzzle of his Nephilim II Assault Rifle and chewed his lip. The wreckage was averse to the order he'd just given- to deal as little damage to the civilian populace and their holdings as possible, but it was hardly his fault the pilot banked into a building. Still, their other directive was to ensure the Rebels did not leave Gree without being clad in irons, or in a body bag. Satisfied the ends justified the means, he soldiered on.

His HUD actively monitored the area around the crashed ship as he strained to see any sign of life. The BioScannner alerted him to something that the hot smoke obfuscated. Pulse and breath signs registered. Initial cross reference indicates stress levels high, in line with middle aged human or near human.

For how little it spoke to the nature of the newcomer, it was enough to tell Alkor that he was both still alive, and that he was moving. The blackened hull of the ship lurched ominously as the Mandalorian raised the assault rifle to firing position and aimed for the plume of roiling darkness. If he couldn't see the enemy, it was unlikely the enemy saw him.

Probably.

When the figure did emerge, it was not directly in front of Alkor. Instead, he stepped out of the haze several yards away and headed purposely toward the city proper. It took less than no time for Centaris to identify the target, as well as his approximate threat level.

Jedi.

He wasted no time on words- those could come later, assuming his target survived the encounter. With the weapon trained at center mass on [member="Veiere Arenais"], Alkor pulled the trigger twice, once lower than the other due to the weapon's kickback. He threw his own cloak to the side in order to grant himself incrased mobility, which revealed his jetpack, his sword and his Beskar'gam . What it still obscured were several grenades, both Sonic and something a little hotter around the collar.

This go-around, he fitted out his left gauntlet with a Fibercord Whip which had extreme utility in and out of combat.