Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Attacking the Sun (Veman vs ME)

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The pods launched, silently screeching across the black void of space, each of the occupants dead set in their mission. There enough to cover their needs. The distraction at the other end of the planet- was working wonders for their incursion. The pods were stealth-equipped, designed by Mandalorians. They knew exactly what not to look for. Each of the IFFs was turned off, and the ensuing combat was guaranteed to mask their approach.​
Preliat stared at his reflection in the T-shape visor, his hair cropped short and his features weathered. He did not look the part of a young man anymore. He was officially middle aged. In fact, the day was his 40th birthday. 40 years old, and his life had more heartache and destruction in that short timeframe, than over thousands of years.​
The odd thing, is that he did not feel the impending doom as their intended target came closer and closer. History often forgot victors, wars, the vanquished, the honored dead. How many people truly recalled Malachor V? The Revanchists? The Civil War with Darth Maul and the Death Watch.​
But everyone remembered the Mandalorians. Children were told stories of them at night. Depending on who you were, it was stories of heroism and bravery- or of stern warning. Armored boogeyman, coming to reap their souls should they misbehave. And misbehaved, had Mandalore's children had.​
Become soft.​
Become weak.​
They betrayed the values that were set forth in the Civil War.​
Preliat Mantis killed his best friend in order to establish a better Mandalore. A better future. And the Empire, the would-be reclaimers of Mandalore- trampled upon the foundation that they built. Built a castle of lies, deception, and hubris. Preliat and the others in the pods were first in line to correct the hubris.​
The Star Forge.​
Years ago, when the Mandalorians made the galaxy tremble only years prior- Canderous Ordo, Mandalore the Preserver, fought to destroy, fought with Revan to destroy the Rakatan war machine. The instrument of Sith power lead to their defeat, and eventual downfall.​
And above the sun of Mandalore, where so many Mandalorians basked in it's loving rays, where his people had garnered strength, grown crops, and raised their children- lay a monstrosity. A testament to Mandalore the Infernal's never-ceasing ability to let her people slip into darkness, into madness that had once been swept away. Preliat needed to send a message. Preliat needed to remind the people of Mandalore of their intent. Of their mission.​
With the ping of Silas' message across his HUD, preliat smiled. They were now engaged.​
Preliat pulled the helmet over his face and braced for the impact.​
The pods landed on the Solar Shipyards with little notice- and they would, for the most part, be unopposed for a brief, opportune time. Any of the station's meager defenses and staff could not withstand the might of Preliat and his compatriots. Preliat stood tall on the platform after disembarking from the pod. A one-way trip, at least, on those.​
He turned and readied the carbine, turning his head towards the station before them. They had quite a distance to go before they reached their target on the Shipyards. They needed to get to it quickly to capture the shipyards. Preliat took a knee, scanning the area, a large hangar facility, for incoming threats, but so far, they were safe- for now. Ion rifles, grenades, heavy repeaters, disruptor rifles- all tools of the trade for an elite strike team.​
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Atsushi Ono

Guest
A
They came in suddenly. First it seemed as if most of the fighting was being done at the ring, then suddenly several interdictors dropped out of hyperspace. BABUIR had of course told the Mando'ade of the smaller ships, but seeing as how they were a mix of Privateer-class and Tu5ks Saha had more than enough fire power to take them head on. Despite being horribly outgunned they just kept moving closer and closer, barely firing a single shot. Several of them had gone down to Saha's own strength, but more than enough slipped through.

"Interdiction fields detected Alor!"

Interdiction? But why would they want to trap themselves here with them? Dorn gave a confused look to the com officer and suddenly proximity alarms began blaring across the ship.

"Several ships are exiting hyperspace...Right on top of us! These signatures...they're massive!"

Dorn's eyes grew wide as he realized what was happening. He'd read about the maneuver in his studies, the Thrawn Pincer, a deadly and risky maneuver that relied heavily on manipulating gravity wells for pinpoint, close range strikes.

"Scramble the remaining fighters, we must-"

The ship was rocked as two massive Alor-class dreadnoughts dropped out of hyperspace not even 1000 meters in front of them. Dorn drew in a sharp breath as other cruisers and smaller capital ships dropped out alongside them. Before he could even give the command the Alors had opened fire. The Mythosaur took the attack well, but all around him on their radar ships began dropping like flies. Being in such close ranges, the Alor class' guns ripped through their shields and decimated their hulls.

"Shields down to 60%!"

"How long until help arrives?" Saha had been running defense of the Solar Shipyard this rotation alongside several other large ships. He was no Larraq, he was a fighter, a pilot. Yet here he was in command. His blood boiled as he wished to be in the stars.

"Hail Australlis,"

"Which one?" Dorn shot the Mandalorian a look.

"Kaine you dikut!"

"Pods launched?"

"What?"

"I'm not sure, we noticed pods being launched from one of the Alor-class vessels, but as soon as the pods were launched we lost them on our scanners." Dorn sucked his teeth.
 
Technology can be rebuilt.

Lives cannot.

It was that logic that drew Lieutenant Commander Beviin to make the call when sensors picked up hostile ships firing into the defense fleet. He was given charge of the Forge Facilities to act in a defensive capacity in the event of an enemy attack, and now an invasion force was unloading their infantry into the installation. They could not be allowed to take the Forge, but [member="Kaine Australis"] had the power to replace it.

It would take time, and it would come as a blow to the Mandalorian Empire, but it would be a statement.

We're not afraid to take losses. Are you?

"Holland."

"Yes, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Engage the tractor beams. Don't allow a single ship or pod to leave the area."

"Sir?"

"Do it."

"Of course, sir."

Holland engaged the Tractors as Beviin threw out a hand and yelled, "Blast doors, now. Trap as many as you can in the hangar, and slow their entry."

"Yes, sir!"

Blast doors began to screw shut to the hangar, and throughout the facility, creating a labyrinthine maze of metal to slow the attackers. [member="Preliat Mantis"]

"Now," he rasped, tears in his eyes. He remembered the face of his daughter, a young girl with a bright future, who he would never see again. It was for her that he did all of this. It was to secure for her a United Mandalore. "Deactivate the station's heat shields."

"Sir," Holland croaked, "we'll all die."

"Are you afraid of death, son?" he asked dangerously. "Are we all not going to meet again in Manda? What is there to do, but to die for Manda'yaim?"

"...yes, sir."

With a lull, the shields slowly began to power down, exposing the exterior hull and open hangar to extreme heat and radiation. Anything in those areas would be cooked within seconds.

Holland gave Beviin a stiff salute just before his skin began to turn brown, and then ignited. He fell to the floor writhing in agony, just before his superior officer followed suit. All the brave warriors felt the virulent effects of radiation as they died a horrific and painful death.

Their songs would be sung by a Mandalore honored and humbled by their sacrifice.
 
Preliat and the other attackers quickly jettisoned with their jetpacks deeper into the facility, skimming through the closing doors. There was one who did not make it, burning up as the doors shut behind them. Preliat began to sweat, even under his climate-controlled armor. The shielding was going down, fast. And the station itself, was not meant to withstand the intense heat of the star below it, unaided by the shield.

But that is not to say, that the engineering marvel that it was, was going to simply burst into flames immediately- such a design flaw would be exploited far sooner than expected. Preliat smiled, even in the tense situation. He turned and laughed to the rest of the party, while they had a brief respite. The station was falling apart. The Alor ships above them were engaging the enemy- and brutally efficiently so.

"They actually did it."

The station shifted, rotating on it's axis. The suspension and repulsors that kept it from plunging into the sun were beginning to overheat. Preliat reached down to his wrist, and flicked on his personal shielding. The other boarders did the same, hoping to avoid the fate of the men who sacrificed themselves to do what Preliat and company were going to do them anyway. Preliat looked upwards, and gestured with his eyes, micromovements identifying a single-point target for a turbolaser to engage.

He opened his mouth and turned his head, as three shots rang against the hull of the station, providing not a substantial hole- but enough for men to get through. Preliat's repulsor pack, and the rest of his compatriots, jettisoned out into the void of space. The Alor Class ships sent down a singular shuttle, it's doors already opened. Preliat was the first onboard, and counted each Mandalorian as they boarded the shuttle. Once onboard, Preliat gave the thumbs up. The shuttle took off, beaming up into the hangar of the Alor class.

He sent the message to the bridge Captain.

"GO."​
And with that, the ships, one by one, began to fold into hyperspace, a tactical retreat. Preliat exited the shuttle, and peeled off his helmet, sweaty and greasy from the encounter. He sat on the ramp of the shuttle, running a hand over his cropped hair. With no crew alive to tend to the station- the Solar Shipyard was doomed. Not exactly according to plan, but ultimately, not the MDCOA that Preliat had predicted.

"What a day."
 
​Initializing...

​....

....

​/Uploading Artificial Intelligence data/

...

...

/BABUIR online. Assessing damage and running containment algorithms now/


What a mess the organics had made. So quick to throw themselves in harm's way for the good of others, it was a wonder they were not extinct as a species. BABUIR ran a thorough scan of the facility and let out the mechanical equivalent of a sigh as it learned many of the crew were already torched by the extreme heat of Mandalore's star. Their people would call it an honorable death, perhaps, but it served its apparent purpose. As the enemy force bailed out, the station came to life and sent repair droids into the vacuum to begin closing the gaps made by the swift exit. The ships winging away from the station were well out of range as the AI brought the shields back online, and the ventilation systems began to rapidly cool the overheated areas. Survivors were kept in safeway corridors as BABUIR began cleansing the lingering radiation with flooding and venting protocols.

/Sending distress signal now/

​It was likely that there would be other attacks, but this one had been repelled. The Station went into full lockdown, only to open back up when the proper codes were transmitted from a verified source. For now, many letters of apology and condolence would require writing as hundreds of children were left without fathers, and some without mothers, in the effort to insure that Mandalore would be protected. Some of them might even understand the decision, made by a man who died making it.

It would take time, and teams of engineers, mechanics, and astrotechnicians to repair the damage that had been done.

But now, Mandalore's defenses had ample time to respond.

Beviin had bought them time, and saved the station.

The day was won.

But not without casualties.
 

Gilamar Skirata

The most important step is always the next one
Ships one by one were popping off of his screen. A busy crew of thousands worked on the brand new SSD. His old hands ran across the leather of the captain's chair. It was an honor to be the first Mandalorian to captain the ship, but also a burden. Was he now a part of the ME? Or was this thier test to him to see how much he really wanted change?

"Sir, we're being pulled by their interdiction field."

He nodded.

As ships began to power up engines to jump, the Preserver class erupted from hyperspace in their path.

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The ship rumbled as a several frigtes and corvettes bounced and crashed off of the sides of the Preserver class, sending proximity alarms blaring through the ship. The crew were not phased.

"Activate the gravity wells. Make sure none of them get away. Open fire."

Waves of heavy turbolaser fire rained down on on the Mandalorian rebels. Their Thrawn Pincer had been well executed, but the rash decision by Preliat Mantis to end hostilities would cost them dearly. He did not know, nor care whether or not he escaped or was among the ships being fired upon, but this day would be the worst day in a long record of military service for the young Wolf.

"We are receiving several hails from remaining ships sir!"

"Crack the Alor-class ships."

Silence. The enemy was surrendering. Was this necessary? Gil closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh and whispered a short prayer for his brother Ordo in Mando'a.

"I sad...Crack. Them." Fire from the ship's cannons rained down on the Alor-class vessels as they tried to escape. He knew they could take a beating, but not for much longer.

"Stop...fire the ion cannons and disable what remains of the Alor-clas vessels... Tell the remaining Mandalorian Empire ships to prep boarding crews and collect what remains. I have a feeling Sundari's prisons are going to be full tonight. And let them know...Preliat abandoned them."
 

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