A Good Day to Die Hard [Republic Invasion of Balmorra]

[Krux Mullarus]

Location: Prison Barge, defeated...
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Nubica Felidae"] and whatever cruel judgements await him st the hands of the Republic's corruption

Mullarus made a face as he listened to her words pass through him. This was likely a lie on the jedi's part. If he were taken into the Republic's arms to be judged, he would surely be tortured and skewed for information on the Sith. This is war. The jedi claim themselves to be pacifists, but he knew better. That was a lie given to the public to get people to side with them and brand the Sith as the 'bad guys'.

The feeling of real shackles being placed upon his wrists was a humiliating feeling. For so long, he had trained and practiced to break his chains and claim freedom, and here he was being taken captive by the passionless servants of the Republic.

Whatever awaited him, he had no choice but to act as if he werre ready. Even if he wasn't.

He was kept shackled with some high-tech gear that seemed to drain the life out of him. As he wore the shackles on his wrists and the gear on his arms and legs, it felt like the machines were sucking the life out of him. He could hardly stand. He had to sit on the ground to stay conscious.

The jedi spoke of the courts and judgement. He recalled back to Contruum, where he had recently returned frm not two days prior to the Republic showing themselves here on Balmorra. He did not take part in any major battles against legions of soldiers. There were a couple of lower ranked soldiers he assisted in defeating, but there was not a single republic life taken by the blade of his lightsaber.

The lightsaber. Oh no, his lightsaber... He had completely forgotten about how the jedi had destroyed it. He felt a mix of sorrow and anger in his head, but for once, he didn't feel empowered by the passion... The machines. Crafted of some kind of...witchery... He could not feel the Force. For the first time since his childhood, he felt...empty inside. He was a walking husk in a galaxy inhabited by so much energy and emotion. Was this what it felt like for a jedi? Or non-force-sensitives?

One way or another, he was sure the Republic would find some way to try him and either keep him behind bars for life or simply kill him in the most humiliating way possible.

Yet, when he looked up and his head got back into reality, the woman was...offering him a drink. Her prisoner. Her enemy, bound by chains in one of the lowest points of his life. A man who had tried to kill her not thirty minutes ago. She was offering her enemy a drink.

"...You show me respect? After all I had done. You continue...to show mercy and respect to me." He reached up slowly, weakly, his right hand with only his thumb, ring, and pinky fingers left, to take the drink in his shackled hands. He could barely hold onto it, but he managed to lift it to his lips. It had been some hours since he last had a drink. It was...refreshing.

"You jedi will never cease to impress me...The jedi I battled on Contruum...you remind me of her. Miss Nubica. Her name was...Ella. A jedi knight. She was merciful, too. She battled like a soldier, but spoke like a diplomat. She was kind, even. To me..."

He stopped. These past few days had really begun to change his opinion on jedi. There was a lot about them that was respectable...

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Dis is supposed to be Agamemnon
Location: Gorinth Canyon (PVP/NPC, C objective)
Allies: None
Enemies: Republic, [member="Alva Calvarona"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ch1WYOAUOF4​

Emotions of the woman ran hot. The droid could sense these based on the increased heart rate, blood flushing her cheeks, and eyes dilating. She would need a nap if her blood pressure increased too far. Biosensors were perfect for the Droid to get this little glimmer into the emotion fueled mind of humans. How sad for them that they were shackled by such emotion.

She redirected the missile, from landing at her feet to up and back behind her, throwing dust and shrapnel in a dozen directions. It was so much easier to harm organics than droids. She was about to find out just how resilient Agamemnon’s body truly was as she raced forward. Such fire, such ambition. Such foolishness.

The droid turned on its broadband radio and began listening to the local Balmorran radio. Something patriotic. At least this way there would be something interesting for it to notice other than the woman. <Song, song of the South, Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth. Gone, gone with the wind, ain’t nobody looking back again.> The robotic voice warbled out the tune effectively and properly as only a machine could. This would serve two fold. Not only was it a catchy tune, but it would also infuriate the woman further knowing the Droid was scanning the Holonet while fighting her.

The pressure continued on the Droid’s shoulder, and this did not go unnoticed, but there simply wasn’t something the Droid could do about directly. The only thing he could do was shut her mouth, and he lacked Sweet Potato pie to force feed her at the moment. The woman pressed forward locking blades with the Droid. Perfect. The Droid took a step forward of his own. Locking her left hand with his own just as she had done to his left.

In a flash the droid’s free arms emptied themselves and snatched for her wrists while her hands were occupied by locking blades with the droid. If that worked the arms would twist her hands to face outwards, opening her up and squeeze as hard as they could. The lower arms that were occupied had string digging into them, slowly cutting through, but it would take time and pressure. Pressure she might not have if the droid could grab those little crummy hands.

 

[Khallesh]

Objective A
Arms factory
[member="Aston Jacobs"] [member="Mantic Dorn"]
[member="Sage Bane"]

Swift and silent as only a born and bred Huntress could be, Khallesh ran across the floor of the factory. The soldiers of the infidels were merely normal people who took up arms late in their lives. Every Yuuzhan Vong was born with millennia of genetic manipulation behind them to breed the perfect fighters. In her traditional Domain of Val, they were still born into a caste and raised for their position from infancy.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the back of Aston, her legs pumped hard as she accelerated for the throw. The razor bugs in her hands buzzed as they tested out their wings and signalled their willingness. There was a small hop as she transferred her momentum upwards. The slightest twist in her trailing foot sent her into a spin.

As she came down she planted her left foot, bending the knee to transfer all of her forwards momentum into the spin. Pivoting on that leg she span right around with the grace and poise of a professional dancer. As he right arm came around behind her it snapped out with her trailing leg. The spin was used to send the razor bug out to her left at great speed.

As he right leg came round before her she planted it straight ahead, her left - now back - leg was bent to transition into a kneel. Her left arm came up and launched the second razor bug in an almost lazy underarm throw.

The routine seemed overly complex, but the net result was a devastating opening that was devilishly tricky to counter. The first razor bug was sent on the long path, on a wide arc. The second was sent straight at her target. The timing was near-perfect such that the two missiles would reach Aston at almost the same time, but with different approach vectors. One at a remarkable speed from his side, one more slowly from an orthogonal approach towards his back. The homing little bugs would also alter their course to follow him and were immune to the effects of the Force. However, a lightsaber could cut through them with ease.

That, of course, was the long goal. Turn his attention towards her, and tie up his blade. Her arachnostaff willingly slithered to her hand. She grasped it by the tail and allowed it to form a long whip. As she rushed forwards to complete her charge, arriving a second behind the bugs it would crack loudly as she swung it for the Jeedai’s feet.

 

[Trin Gravois]

Objective: PVP
Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Allies: [member="Lucas Gravois"]
Enemies: [member="Nolan Detta"] (he came in like a wreeeeeckkkking ball) [member="Alyona Volkovna"]
Gear: Zeyd-cloth robes over armorweave clothing, Blade of the Satvas, Lightsaber

Just as Trin was about to pounce on the silver-haired Jedi's back with a caged-animal ferocity, she heard a thunk and then felt... utter agony. From her shoulder, a spurt of blood erupted along with screaming pain, and dark stain blossomed over the waffles in her Zeyd-cloth robe. The grappling gun's barbed hook tore into her shoulder and as the line was yanked back, it ripped through the flesh. Trin would be released before the shock hit, but not without tremendous wound on her shoulder.

Hissing, she whirled around to face him, her chest huffing. Threads of gold weaved through her irises as her anger grew. She didn't give a flying feth about killing the Mandalorian in a philosophical sense, but Jet-pack Johnny had prevented her from protecting Lucas, and that enraged her deeply. She gathered up all of her pain and rage, her abject fear of failure, her obsessive need to protect her abusive sibling, and her hatred for all who were not the predatory Anzat, and concentrated on savaging the Mando with the Force itself. With arms outstretched and fingers curling into claws, Trin aimed to use her Force Pull ability to grab the man's right arm and pull it to one side, while simultaneously pulling his left arm in the other direction. With enough power and given enough time, at best the man's arms could be dislocated, bones broken, and at worse, ripped clear off his body.

 

[Lash]

Location: Hyperspace enroute for Balmorra
Objective: Engage Enemy Fleet.
Allies: [member="Tålamod Shapochka"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="stardust"] [member="Varius"]
Enemies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] [member="Thanith Gumara"] [member="Eliza Lunelle"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="Darth Nephthys"] [member="Laguz Vald"]


Fleet

Spoiler

Lash Balmora fleet - 4000 meters
Imperial MK III-class Star Destroyer - 1600 meters "Termagant" - Holding Central Position in reverse chevron formation

Annihilator-class Fire Support Cruiser - 750 meters "Hood" - Flanking postion starboard of Termagant

Annihilator-class Fire Support Cruiser - 750 meters "Kaga" - Flanking position port of Termagant

Ravenous-class Frigate - 300 meters "Tafcon" - Center position in forward line

Ravenous-class Frigate - 300 meters "Moors" - starboard position in forward line

Ravenous-class Frigate - 300 meters "Hughes" - Port position in forward line


Formation:

FG / FG / FG
CA / / CA
SD

Lash watched the ships in the distance slowly growing larger. They had been moving away but even at their fastest speed the massive destroyers could not out pace the Imperial fleet. The Proton beam had made a glancing hit but little damage had occurred to the ship.

"Tactical Correct your solution four degrees starboard and prepare to fire again."

Lash looked out as the ships in the distance fired once again. The Hughes exploded as the prow of the ship took a direct hit. a large chunk of hull listed away from the ship to the port and the flames from ignited oxygen were soon extinguished by the vacuum of space. The front left corner of Hughes now looked like a crumpled burnt slag heap. Most of the prow weapons were gone ans the ship was starting to slow. The fighter wings broke and began dodging fire from missiles in the distance. Lash watched as several exploded under theonslaught. The three large groups were now breaking formation and spreading out along the front of the group.

"Commander, send three shuttles to Hughes to assist with casualties. Have whoever is left in charge there to drop back, make repairs and jump home. We will recover whats left of their wing after the battle."

The Chiss officer nodded then sent a runner down to the hanger. The Kaga took a second hit and had its shielding fluctuate but hold. The punishment had taken a toll on the shields and Lash could only imagine they were not long for this world. Lash looked over to his tactical officer waiting for a reply.

"Weapon Charging sir, Plot corrections made."

Lash nodded

"Sir we have a problem, We are receiving data packets. They are attempting to hack out systems sir."

Lash stood and walked over to the tactical console. The Prime ships were attempting to disable their weapons. A sound tactic indeed. Something he would have done if he had been aboard a ship with he capabilities.

"Kill all bus lines lieutenant. Reset the network and flush all data storage drives. They have slowed us down but we are not without defenses against this."

The Termagant came to a halt as all computer systems were turned off, cleared and rebooted. Lash walked to the communications console and entered in his code while the system was rebooting and before the network drives came back online.

"Disable all coms and rf transceivers. Have our droids work anti-slicing protocols non stop."

The coms officer nodded and went about doing as ordered. The twelve NR-1100 droids began working on the system to clear any data packets the Prime my have attempted to install. Lash walked back to his chair enraged at himself for not seeing that coming. It was a mistake he would not repeat a second time.

Summary

Spoiler

Rebooting ships systems to clear any splicing from Prime ships.
Hughes heavly damaged and falling back.
Kaga Shields at 27% and recharging
Termagant slowing while resetting all systems
Lost 14 fighters

 

[Alyona Volkovna (Алёна)]

Objective: PvP
Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Enemies: Trin Gravois | [member=[/SIZE]Lucas Gravois] | [member=Nolan Detta]
Allies: Jedi, GR
Equipment: Luke Skywalker's lightsaber (EVI), shoto lightsaber, various stun, flash, and fragmentation grenades.

Previous Post

Normally, with an opponent so persistent and wild, close range was well avoided by a warrior. The close distance robbed most soldiers of their advantages, but Alyona was Echani (and a tall woman herself); close range warfare was her name and trade. As swiftly as a river driven by gravity, Alyona was driven by the Force as she opened herself to it, pivoting in a circle and shirking Lucas' strike. The man's grasping hand likewise shot passed her face, her hair whipping about as she inverted the grip she had on the green-bladed lightsaber and jabbed backwards to stab up into her opponent's arm pit from the side. Alyona would continue her spin and the hand holding her shoto would cut upwards along her enemy's same side, intent on cutting him medially to separate his anterior and posterior body. The dual strike with the spin would place Alyona to Lucas' 7 o'clock position, barring any interruptions.

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9BfvPjsXXw​

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: Ground PvP
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"] | OS
Enemies: [member="Turin Val Kur"] | GR
Equipment:

Spoiler

Lightsaber
Chom-Huun
Vulcan Blaster Rifle + disruptor
Vonduun Skerr Ygdris
Vonduun Skerr Dhaladii
Blorash jelly, Firejelly, Magma pebbles, Plasma eel
Thud bugs, Razor bugs, Blast bugs, Snap bugs
Wrist-mounted melee shield

Or not?

Upon nearing the coordinates of [member="Darth Vornskr"], Vrag soon saw that the situation required little help, much less in the form of the Hand of the Dark Lord. Caught between the towering Emperor of Panatha and another Sith, the damsel was very much in distress, and there seemed to be no white knights in the vicinity to lend some much needed aid.

Maybe the dark side had scared them away. Maybe there were never any to begin with; hard to tell, and it wasn't like the question was particularly important to the woman. She would consider pondering on it more with a tumbler of good whiskey and a nice, velvety cigarra, but that was all for later. Business first.

Business that, unfortunately for the invading forces, included repelling them in full to send them back to their self-proclaimed galactic haven of democracy.

More like inefficiency.

With a small snort, the warrior turned back and brought up the full network of OS military communications, barking orders and directives into her oggzil while coordinating with the troops and Yuuzhan Vong in the field to seek out her next target. She gladly let the soldiers raze the cannon fodder, truth be told. She had better things to do, and better people to kill.

Even though, annoyingly enough, those people sometimes fought back.

Vrag glanced down to her left arm, grimacing at the feeling of near-weightlessness left in place of the charred Vonduun. A dull ache still rang through her limbs at the loss, an echo of what had been sacrificed to break the blonde Jedi. Warrior and armor grieved alike, each in their own way, but ultimately to the same end; determination.

She stopped to roll over a dead Sith soldier with the tip of her boot and quickly salvaged the wrist-mounted shield standard to all infantry armor, affixing the duraplast gauntlet to her forearm with practiced speed.

Well. That's that.

It would have to do for now, and with the armorweave underneath, the combination should hold until the woman saw the massacre out 'till the bitter end. In her right palm, her trusty lightsaber still rested firmly and securely, ready to singe Jedi flesh anew. There had been reports of a hostile moving deeper into the factory, and it was high time someone intercepted them.

Or two someones, as the case may be.

"Vereen," she greeted curtly as she hailed the declared ally. They could talk later.

 

[Keira Priest]

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: B (PVP)
Allies: [member="Rexus Drath"], The Republic
Enemies: [member="Countess of Báthory"], [member="Kala Maedrin"], One Sith
Gear: Blast vest (basic ballistic protection), lightsaber (in signature).

Impossible odds were nothing new for Keira to face. At this point they had become such a normalcy in her life that she wasn't sure what it meant to actually have a fighting chance. It kept life interesting, at any rate, and with two vornskr darting towards she and Rexus combined with the electrically charged slab of durasteel hurtling towards them, she knew what it meant to have her back against the wall. This was the true definition of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. At least it helped her remember what it meant to be alive. Adrenaline was rather good at that.

The first matter was resolved fairly easily, as she simply hit the ground in a roll to avoid the flying metal that was being thrown around by all parties as easily as a child might toss a ball. In the next second she was on her feet, orange blade flashing out towards the vornskr. They were a four-legged foe she had faced before during her clash with a Mandalorian, as such she had some amount of experience. It didn't hurt to have the Force on her side either, and it was that she most certainly utilized, crushing the ribs and thus the internal organs of one before it could so much as take another step, throwing its corpse at the other and sending her blade through its head while it was incapacitated.

Without so much as a thought she manipulated the Force in an attempt to trip up the two Sith before she took things to a far more personal level, attacking directly rather than from a distance. It was about time the fight turned to a direction she was more comfortable with, and bladed combat was that venue. Hopefully this would give them something of a chance.

 

[Mak Manto]

Objective: B PVP
Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Allies: The Galactic Republic
Enemies: [member="Bix Slisia"]

Seeing her open a bottle of what looked to be like painkillers, he slithered slowly, raising all four of his hands to show he wasn't armed.

"Come with me... We don't have to fight, to slaughter each other because of this battle. I can bring you back to Ossus, and we can find out who you are and how you know me. I can promise you that the Sith won't be able to get to you. All you have to do is trust me."

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Objective B: PvP​

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory​

Allies: The One Sith​

Enemies: [member="Mak Manto"]​

​

“Wow, slow down”, Bix held out on hand putting it and the bottle cap between her and Mak. Her other hand holding the open bottle of pills. “Don’t even think I do not wish to slowly kill you. All the while enjoying to hear your screams of pain. I may not remember why. But I feel you Jedi did something just horrible that I could never forgive. Why would I worry about the Sith? I do as I wish. I kill when I wish. I get a fething drink when I wish. I forgot why. But I know war is my life. Whoever is Kad Ha’ringir’s I hear his call. I think I was once his prophet? Why would I go quietly to a Jedi world as a guest? Why would they even welcome me? How could I ever forgive them for something unforgivable that I can’t even remember?”

Bix took that bottle, put it up to her lips, like she was about to drink a glass of Corellian whisky. She did not count how many she swallowed. Her head hurt so karking bad though!

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: The Restitution
Objective: Space
Allies: [member="Lash"] [member="Tålamod Shapochka"]
Enemies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] [member="Laguz Vald"]

The problem with launching missiles the way the Primeval were was eventually you start to run out, only so much room in a ship's magazines before they were depleted. Still, Taeli had to admit she wouldn't mind getting her hands on whatever missiles they had been launching indiscriminately since they arrived. At least they weren't targeting her forces beyond launching ... more missiles at the starfighters she sent ... really ...

She watched several explosions of her fighters as they were hit by those missiles, but there were plenty that got through and began attack runs on the enemy ships. With their escorts facing the other way, the enemy Star Destroyers only had their own defenses to rely on right now and all the while they were closing in to full engagement range again. The Prime seemed quite taken with the Imperial ships, leaving the Restitution and the Inculpable free reign to move into position unmolested while the Virtue covered them.

"12 fighters destroyed, ma'am, several damaged," a report came to her.

"Open fire," Taeli stated, and every weapon battery on the Noblesse and the Mothma opened fire on the nearest Primeval Star Destroyer.

Summary:

Moved into firing range and opened fire on one Primeval Star Destroyer with everything the Noblesse and the Mothma have
Lost 12 starfighters
Remaining starfighters launching attack runs on enemy Primeval Star Destroyer

 

[Alva Calvarona]

Location: Gorinth Canyon (PVP/NPC, C objective)
Allies: Republic (I guess, no idea whose nearby)
Enemies: [member="Agamemnon"] and the Sith

Gear: Dragoon Class Combat Armor, Crinan Energy Blades, Slicewire, E-11 Blaster Rifle

Was. . . . .was this droid a space redneck? Oh god. . . .she had heard space rednecks existed, but to actually be subjected to the musical tastes of such a fabled class of . . . . .well the crinan woman supposed that all things considered this explained the droid's violent nature and appreciation for music as bad as this. Droids could do plenty of wacky things, the fact this one could access the holonet was odd, but the fact it got a clear signal in the middle of a canyon for the local radio was actually impressive. Rather than infuriating her though, Alva felt more like she was more prone to offing herself to escape the torture of her eardrums rather than feel mad the droid was listening to bad channels. If she let it live after this fight she would force it to download properly mooded fight music.

Like so~<3

https://youtu.be/tss1ZMCzs-Q

Now as to the actual fight of wills rather than music, Alva was not ignorant of the fact the droid was releasing hold of his lightsabers, her only question being why until she watched its arms move for her own. No more was she applying pressure through the force on the droid's shoulder. It was being repaired anyway after all, she was putting her efforts elsewhere. Especially since once she was through she'd love to see the droid repair its arm just to be missing the hand on its end anyway. She merely. . , . . .had to react appropriately. Releasing her breathe, the crinan woman began leaning back, no longer applying the pressure against the droid's lightsabers, letting his arms move forward in the brief moment the lack of resistance would put momentum behind his arms weight.

However, in those moments the Imperial Tactician was quick to guide them, taking advantage of simple physics to lay out her strike. Tilting her left wrist up and back, Alva twisted and lifted up her energy blade sitting against the lightsaber held by her opponent's lower right arm, edging her weapon slightly beneath its own as the moment of momentum began and she turned it up and aside, slamming it against the droid's upper right arm reaching for her, her teeth clenched tightly, grinding against each other as the focus on her movements so tightly strained her, only accumulated combat experience and a lifetime of training and warfare refining motions she had done before.

As to her right arm, the crinan woman used the brief moment to change her hold on her weapon, setting her energy blade up for her hand to dance as she turned it around, reversing her grip, before twisting her wrist around, new force applied against the droid's blade in its upper left arm, turning it to the right of Alva's body, and then she jumped back, pulling her blade, and her hand, to the left and up as she did so to avoid the lower left arm aiming to grab her right hand, releasing her pressure against her foe's weapon as she disengaged with the diversion of his weapons. Her hand clenching and pulling the string of slicewire taut as she spoke aloud, calling the force upon the wind once more.

The air blowing past the droid would touch upon the razer string and pull it tighter than the human hand could alone, digging it into the droid's wrist with greater strength, even as Alva let the length extend so she could properly jump back. Though her own slicewire was not Alva's only target for the wind to pull tight to her, because the wind would also catch the droid's dropped lightsabers, carrying them in its grasp, though the crinan woman's control was poor in a rush, flinging the lightsabers behind her (the blade dropped from the right arm) and off to her right (The blade dropped from the left hand) instead of directly to her as she would have hoped. If the droid could see her face truly it would see her taking breathes rapidly. Not out of physical exhaustion, but the amount of mental stress as well as the exhilaration she was feeling engaged in this battle.

Surely even the droid could feel it as well. It could recognize how incredible the battle was. With half the proclaimed force users in the galaxy the droid probably had information on in its databanks it had to know most of the time the stupidly inconsiderate ones with unreasonable power would simply lift him up with the force and crush his form into a cube of wreckage with little way to stop them. This. . . .between them right now was a real battle, an exchange of blades based almost entirely on skill. Certainly Alva was displeased she had to rely on the force the ways she had already, but she forgave herself since the droid certainly had its own tricks in the form of its paddle beamer and charric among other things.

The Imperial Commander hardly cared about the operation and the mission of setting explosives along the canyon wall anymore. She just wanted to dismantle the droid in front of her. To turn it into a heap of scrap, not out of malice, but merely for the act of accomplishment. Because it was a truly great battle she wanted to relish to the finish. Her lips forming a grin as she tugged on the slicewire with the wind even more, seeking to have her razer string cut through her foe's wrist, not relying on her physical strength for it so that if the droid got the bright idea of cutting the wire between them the wind would still tug on the rest connected to its arm until it was severed.

Dropping the energy blades in her hand though, Alva reached for the spares at her hips quickly. The ones she had been holding flickering dangerously. Using inferior technology they were weapons that drained quickly when pitted against the true energy swords, lightsabers. Alva had learned in her battle against the Dark Man to carry spares after having her weapon back then at the time falter on her due to the amount of blows rained down on them. Not since then had she fought an enemy long enough or with enough fury for her blades to drain themselves out. Needless to say, she was sadistically enjoying herself now.

 

[Mak Manto]

Objective: B PVP
Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Allies: The Galactic Republic
Enemies: [member="Bix Slisia"]

"Bix, I'm giving you my word not as a Jedi Master, not as a member of the Galactic Republic but as a fellow being this isn't a life you need to live. There is more you can do with your powers, so much good that you can give to others."

Watching her down a number of aspirin, he stopped, closer than he had been before.

"Take it from a person who has seen the bottom of a whiskey bottle more times than he can count. I've drowned myself in alcohol, hoping to push away the pain and bad memories into some unforgotten pit in my mind and it never works. What I always find true is that friends and allies waiting to help you at any cost is what matters. Helping the people of this Galaxy is what matters."

Moving a little closer, he stopped, several feet away from her now.

"It isn't too late, Bix..."

 

[Aston Jacobs]

Objective PvP
Location Arms factory
Allies: GR, [member="Mantic Dorn"]
Enemies OS, [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Khallesh"]


The force wave that was enacted by the sith sent Aston backwards, still on his feet however as he slid back a few feet opening himself up with the force absorbing some of the wave. Thus, that was when a new player came into the game. Aston twirled his lightsaber around as he waited and thus her move became unclear to the Jedi Padawan as he watched for a few moments. Aston closed his eyes as then saw what seemed to be small being thrown his way, in different interval or such a thing.

Aston's saber hand came forward as his blade left his hand twirling towards one of them looking to take it out before it ever could get to its target, flowing as easy as it was to breath it seemed as the blade turned upward the beetle itself now incinerated by his blade requiring a much greater focus then before, but nonetheless still able to do so, despite his current state.

Aston wasn't strong, no....but something much greater than that. He wasn't about to stop now, and leave his Master outnumbered. Immediately afterwards Aston's blade quickly diverted back to him, speeding towards his hand as the Jedi swiped upward in a strong motion as soon as it reached his hand destroying the second beetle

Aston brought his blade downward in a slashing motion diverting any sort of attack as the staff formed a whip and was met with the solid blade of his lightsaber, while the weapon that was shaped wasn't destroyed, his lightsaber did as it was needed to prevent this further onslaught. Aston took a deep breath as he glanced towards the Vong, showing a small smile as he glanced towards his Master then back to the Vong. Aston's experience with the Vong wasn't a great amount, yet he needed to work this out as best as he could. However he was aware that they were susceptible to some force attacks, he just needed to find out what.

The Jedi Padawan's hand shot forward and sent a force push towards the Vong, if he was susceptible, Aston then knew his plan of action. If not, then it was time for a different strategy.

All in time, the force was with them.

 

[Lash]

skip wrong account sorry

 

[Veris Tagge]

Location: Sitting in the Command Seat of the AT-FAT walker Widowmaker aboard Transport
Objective: Land on Balmorra (Ground 2)
Allies: Imperials and Republic
Enemies: One Sith and Prime

Tagge made his final system checks and prepared for landing. The Transport shook violently as its repulsors and landing thrusters fired up taking it and the other lander's of the 222nd Armored assault force. The ship jolted as it landed and the engines fell silent. Seconds later the defensive guns came to life striking out at the enemy in the distance.

"Platoons one through four move up into a forward guard and defend the landing zone."
Tagge watched as the doors slowly began to open. The battle in the distance was igniting the sky with laser bolts and clouds of explosive debris. The force had made it down with only one transport being lost to flak. It was a win already in his mind. The Termagants full assault force had landed and was poised for war.

The AT-FAT shook as the legs extended and the massive hulk stood up. The servos buzzed so loudly Tagge could hear them inside the walker. IN the distance was his objective. The Canyon his force had been assigned to assault. Now the armored might of the Empire would fall upon the Sith and the canyon would fall.

Spoiler

Assault Force
18 AT-FAT walkers (Assault, Anti Heavy vehicle)
24 AT-STM Mk II Walkers (Anti-Light Vehicle, anti-perssonel)
12 AT-AW Walkers (Artillery, Anti-vehicle)
6 AT-AA Walkers (Anti-Air, anti-personnel)
50 Quad Recon Speeders (Reconnaissance, Anti-personnel)
10 Bolder Dozers (Excavation)
14,800 (48 companies) Storm Troopers
8,400 Armored Assault Forces (4 regiments)

Air Support from Termagant
36 S90 MAAT Assault Transports
3 Bomber Squadrons

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Gear: In signature (Grenades 2x Force Breakers, 2x EMP Grenades, 2x Anti-Force User Flash Bangs)
Objective: Fight somebody
Allies: [member="Vrag"]
Enemies: [member="Turin Val Kur"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVSfxzZOCdk​

Eh, people all needed reasons to fight. It was hard to convince an informed soldier to fight against an enemy who didn’t cause mass murders and genocides, easy to convince them to be martyrs when they were fighting monster. Not physical monsters, but monsters none the less.

I was a bit late to the party… alright, I was late and a half with only time left to pick up the scraps of what the Sith had left for me, but there were scraps to be had. Icons and updates scrolled through my HUD. Agamemnon was on the planet… Weird. I had last seen him on Bothawui. I needed to get a tracking device in that droid so I could keep up with him in case he went rogue.

Intruder alerts flashed through my field of vision, the active scanners picking up something on the edges of their awareness. Bioscanners flashed as the target came ever closer. Time to flare up, show off a bit in case it was some Padawan. I exuded confidence, and dark intent through the Force, letting anyone nearby get a good sense of what was around. I could pick up traces. A black, deep wound, almost smeared across Force. It was Familiar.

Vrag. The Hand of the Dark Lord. Heh… she might not be my biggest fan among the One Sith. The rest hadn’t ever fought me, if you could call what she did to me fighting. But that was long ago, almost a distant memory from Yinchor before I had even taken up residence on Mandalore. Things had changed… A lot had changed. For one I was ten times the warrior I had been then, for two I was ten times the Jedi I had been then, and finally, I was on her side this time.

“Milady.” I said, giving her a slight bow, outstretching my arms. “A pleasure to see you again. As you may be aware, I am yours to command.” I said, a bit cocky for something being said to someone who had butchered me before, but she wasn’t looking for extra enemies right now, so maybe I could get away with it. I looked at her wounded arm for a moment. I could probably help it a bit, but from what little I knew about her, it would be wasted effort.

There were Jedi nearby that needed to be gutted, and with me exuding my presence, there was that little possibility she could sneak up on them in a moment and perhaps they would come running. Besides, it was about time I killed something. I spun the mace in my hands as I walked behind her, whistling in my helmet and walking casually. This was war. War was meant to be fun.

 

[Tålamod Shapochka]

Location: Space (Objective A)
Objective: Slay Catalys Maijora's flank
Allies: The Republic, [member="Lash"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Juwiela Melec"], [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="stardust"]
Enemies: One Sith, [member="Thanith Gumara"], [member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Eliza Lunelle"], [member="Darth Carach"], [member="Darth Nephthys"]

Closer and closer... Their emissions trailed the ships in their peaceful drift towards the enemy fleet, and their usually gray and gloomy hulls glistened majestically as they passed out of the shadow and across the terminator line into unyielding sunlight. Their speeds were fast enough to eventually overtake the lumbering, reverse-thrusting vessels of the Sith's misguided allies. Shapochka was in no rush, however. The enemy were penned like swine.

So Admiral Shapochka's fleet released their hold on the pieces of carved-out moon, allowing humongous fragments of natural crust to float maliciously into the gravity practically magnetizing the Republic's projectiles towards the command ship. One could almost hear a veritably collective snicker from all the vessels under Tålamod's command as they 'dropped' natural bombs towards the assembly of the retreating Primeval enemies.

Fortunately, there was no hacking the hypervelocity cannons since they required little more than a trigger-pull to fire, being essentially fixed into the hull instead of turreted. "Fire all mass cannons, yes." Another deadly salvo of forty-eight monstrous guns shunted forty-eight massive rounds at the Primeval flagship, targeting aided by the Night Watch and almost as pinpoint in accuracy as targeting computers. With the help of the artificial gravity well the enemy was still projecting, the hits were all but guaranteed to find their mark somewhere along the hull of the command vessel.

"Status!"

"Admiral, several fighters have been lost on approach after encounters with more of the emitter missiles. Reports are also coming in from weapons of malfunctions aboard our ship and Conviction. EW measures have been noted." So they wanted to play hackathon...

"Full stop. All ships, yes! Fully stop." The reverse thrusters of all the main flank fired, slowing the ships down until they were at the same speed as the enemy ships--and continuing their bursts further until the fleet was nothing more than a slave to its original orbital velocity. She could do this all day. Until the Primeval spaceships were a mass of mangled durasteel to be compacted and hurtled towards their friends on Bastion. "Jam signals and shut down receivers. All visual, yes. Visual signal." They had already been utilizing timed light codes to send orders between the ships of their line. It would serve little to maintain radio reception.

What was important was the array of explosions expected when heavy projectiles collided with battered hulls.




Well, if it was not obvious by now, there should not be any power surges going on about this partition. Just about every system except life support had been shut down, and the turbolifts had become restricted access and would be completely inaccessible in a matter of minutes. But, judging by what they could hear and the dancing light strobing about the glossy walls, they had found their quarry and it was time to take care of business.

While a Wookiee's footfalls are pretty well dampened over years of practice in hunting, they still had that pad-pad-pad sound across the durasteel floors. While they could not know just how prepared their invaders were, Kwrashhar's comrades were certain his steps had given their approach away by the time they reached the corner that turned towards the enemy's position.

Oh, well. If surprise was not going to be their element, then terror would have to do. Whoever did not at least jump at the growl of a towering Wookiee was abnormal, to say the least. So, leaping out into the corridor, Kwrashhar, Whifful, and Adstral all opened fire without question on the two people trying to 'hotwire' this lift.

Yeah, they were definitely not normal. You know, judging by the fingertip lightning and all that fancy stuff...

Spoiler: Fleet Summary

Champion - Admiral Ackbar ~light stern structural damage~ > Full stop } Fire 20 HVCs on Catalys' Primeval (68 fighters) 4 fighters lost; 8 fighters maintain approach


Champion - Conviction ~main shields loss; light port-stern structural damage~ > Full stop } Fire 20 HVCs on Catalys' Primeval (69 fighters) 3 fighters lost; 9 fighters maintain approach
Bastion - Bastion > Full stop } Fire 8 HVCs, 14 long-range ion cannons, 8 heavy long-range ion cannons on Catalys' Primeval (30 fighters, 12 bombers) 6 fighters lost; 6 fighters maintain approach
Centurion - Emancipation ~light stern structural damage~ > Full stop (12 fighters, 94 bombers) 2 bombers lost; 22 bombers maintain approach
Solo - Solo > Full stop } Fire 28 heavy long-range turbolasers on Catalys' Primeval (67 fighters, 43 bombers) 5 bombers and 5 fighters lost; 19 bombers and 19 fighters maintain approach
Rieekan - Calamity > Full stop
Rieekan - Veracity > Full stop
Rieekan - Deadly Diplomat > Full stop

Noblesse - Restitution - Taeli's command
Mothma - Inculpable - Taeli's command
Rieekan - Virtue - Taeli's command
Vinnath - Mother Goose - Taeli's command

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

OBJECTIVE: PVP- Don't Get Wrekt
LOCATION: Balmorra Arms Factory
ALLIES: GR Folks + Allies
ENEMIES: OS Bubs {[member="Reverance"]}

Spoiler: EQUIPMENT

ARMOR:

Spoiler: EQUIPMENT

• x1: Bodo Baas Gunbelt
• x1: Sasori Bodyglove
• x1: THI Revenant Armor
• x1: Exemplar Energy Shield

GRENADES:

• x2: CyroBan Grenade
• x2: EMP Grenade
• x2: Thermal Detonator

BLASTERS:

• x1: Ven's Custom Shotgun
• x2: Dissuader KD-30

MELEE:

• x1: Vibro Electro Blade
• x1: Standard Silver Dual-Phase Lightsaber

OTHER:

• x3 Ammo Clips: AP Shotgun Rounds
• x1 Sithspawn Body: Ven's Guardian Body

Time was everything in combat. It was what separated a blade from the space in front of your neck, or the blunt of a bullet from your chest. With it came the start and the end of someone's life. For Ven it was what had saved her from a first strike. For her opponent it was what allowed him to gain ground while she was paused. Reloading had cost her precious seconds. Though she had been able to fire off more rounds at the man, he was already upon her by the end of the third shot. His blade came rushing up to bit at her gun before she could make it bite at him again.

There had been many options for her in that moment. And she had not had the time to decide, only to act on instinct. She had pulled herself back, her left hand barely out of his blade's reach, while her right had shifted. The soldier fully intended to make an assault of her own. Yet once more time was favoring her foe, giving him an edge. Or perhaps it was speed that was to blame. As strong as she may be, Ven was no quicker than the average man. Even her armor could only help with specific movements.

Movements she wasn't always trying to make.

What had come for her gun before quickly swerved in the air, returning for her quicker than she had hoped. There was no time to swing at the Sith's side. Instead she was left with another awkward instinctual action. Her right arm had already been moving to attack, now she readjusted its course, pivoting on her right foot at the same time. A flash of panic filled her blade barely made it up in time, catching the Vong-sabre right before it could cut her in half. The pivot of her body left her right side towards him, quite definitely leaving the same side open for attack.

Hence the importance of her next movement. Fully aware of the man's speed, she jetted back as soon as she could, a split second after the noise of their blades meeting met her ears. She assumed he'd follow her. From what little she could tell, it didn't seem like he had any ranged weapons on him. Though the weird saber of hers concerned her. Something about it reminded her of her time with the Vong of The Horde. That unnerved her for a second. Just long enough for her mind to lose focus.

Another second lost to foolishness.

She recovered well enough, really only delaying her response by a moment. A moment that she might have needed, but a moment not long enough to get her killed. Her right arm kept her blade in front of her. The edge lined up at a roughly forty five degree angle, her arm bent slightly, her hand nearly two feet from the center of her chest. At the same time her left hand was kept closer to her, the slugthrower still aimed out at her foe. And as she stopped the jets on her armor she unloaded the rest of the clip. Seven of the Dissuader's acidic rounds would go flying towards the Sith, hopefully striking at his chest, or at least distracting him long enough for her to attack again.

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Location: Airspace Above Gorinth Canyon
Objective: Seize The Canyon (PvP/NPC Obj.)
Allies: Galactic Republic
Enemies: One Sith

Spoiler: Forces

8 MAT-TE Assault Walkers
240 Republic Commandos
8 A-10 LAAT/i Gunships
8 A-10 LAAT/c Gunships
2 AA-CT3 Hovertanks
4 MAT-AP (Artillery Pod Walkers)
8 Mk-IV AWD (Automated Walker Droid)
(Anything else in the Republic/Imperial Factory arsenal may be used; to be found in the Republic Faction)

Spoiler: Ali's Equipment

Full Suit Beskar-plated Armor, vac-sealed
--Maroon trimmed with grey
Verpine Assault Carbine (with underbarrel grenade launcher)
Verpine Shatter Pistol
Variable Grenades
--Incendiary
--Flash/Stun
--Smoke
--Ion
Durasteel Knife
Wristcomp
Personal Shield
Flamethrower
Wristrocket
Cable
Jump Pack

Ali gripped the overhead strap tightly with a gauntleted fist, looking back at the Republic Commandos tucked away inside the gunship's belly behind her. Best of the best, she'd been told, and so far, she believed it. The Commandos under her belt now had come from Contruum, where they'd all but slaughtered Draco Vereen's Mandalorian barbarians and the rest of the Sith host. The Republic had proven itself time and again when faced with agents of evil, and the Mandalorian warriors had been no different as they died one at a time in the shallow tunnels within Contruum's Garrison Mountain. Too many Republic soldiers had died that day, though their victory had been bought and paid for with the very blood they spilled. The soldiers who had survived had bathed in that blood and been tempered in the fires of conflict, some wearing the armor of the Mandalorians they killed in defense of their world.

On Contruum, Ali had arrived with soldiers. On Balmorra, she was arriving with heroes.

The engines of the gunship thrummed below her feet, the vehicle shaking gently as they dropped in altitude through the atmosphere of Balmorra over Gorinth Canyon. After verifying the positions of her allies via closed comms, Ali's pilot guided their vehicle toward the designated landing zone. Their drop zone was located ahead of the rest of the allied advance, a move to flank the portions of the canyon that housed Sith forces and personnel.
The 8 gunships hauling MAT-TE walkers split into two wings and landed on the highest levels on opposite sides of the canyon. Behind them, the 8 gunships packing Republic Commandos did the same, resting atop the ground behind the deployed MAT-TE's. The level upon which they deployed was wide enough to walk two MAT-TE's abreast, and the Republic walkers staggered themselves in a column up and down the lines, with squads of soldiers dispersed between them. The remaining commandos were already loaded inside the walkers, well protected within their innards. Overhead, Republic air support flew by, a squadron of K-Wings ready to lay waste to far off portions of the canyon. As they dropped off their personnel, the A-10 LAAT gunships lifted off once more, their repulsors kicking up dust as they returned to the sky to patrol and provide close and far air support.

"Let's get this done, mate," Porter told Greeves, who nodded in response as he locked the magazine into his Verpine assault rifle and pressed the Ready switch. The weapon whined briefly and locked in the first round to the grav-coil chamber before stepping off. The commandos were all garbed in Katarn-type armor, painted a mottled desert camouflage, same as the vehicles themselves. The Mk-IV AWD's unfolded from their cramped spaces within the MAT-TE's and assigned themselves to squads of Commandos; walking miniature destruction, that's what they were: Insurance policies against enemy infantry.
Greeves hugged the inner side of their pathway, looking down at the rest of the canyon from above. To his left, a two meter ledge rose above them, leading to the surface of the mesa through which the canyon cut. To his right, aside from the occasional boulder and lines of rocks, there was a straight drop down several dozen meters to the next level ground worn into the cliff face by eons of erosion and wear.

"We're ready, Bad Boss," the driver updated Ali. She looked down at him through the open hatch, drawing on the cigarette between her lips. "Thanks for the heads up," she replied, letting the smoke drift from her lungs. "Let's move out." She ordered, giving the cigarette one final pull before crushing the cherry between her gloved fingers and dropping down onto the seat inside the hatch so that she could remain outside to see. The massive 150 mm Mass Drive cannon barrel swung overhead as the vehicle lurched forward, once again to crush Sith beneath its large, clawed metal feet. "Commandos, make sure you get targets relayed through to the air support. Make sure they're painted good, or they can't land payload." Ali's words went out to the comm, returned with a series of confirmations that made her smile. These soldiers were good soldiers, and Ali was glad to be leading them once more.