Bring the Noise! (Corellian League Raid on Corellia)

[Julius Sedaire]

Corellian League Raid of Corellia​

​

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5rRZdiu1UE

Julius had been planning this for years, had tried before and failed. Now as the stars blurred and swirled by in hyperspace, he felt the push of the Force back on him, the call of Glory, as Marasun had said of it. A dangerous sensation, but one that let you know you were on the right path, for good or for ill. A marker ticked off distance to here he would leave their ragtag fleet behind and do his thing. A little smoke and mirrors to confuse and put them off kilter for the enemy.

Suddenly he slammed a lever back and flipped a switch. Their was a moment of reversion to real-space, and an odd whine as the hyper-drive cycled down and the fold-drive took over, right at the maximum of it's range, a hundred thousand klicks from home. Then suddenly they were there. Next to a One Sith patrol craft and several others. Corellians of all type were on the bridge, and he turned to his brother, [member="Cal Sedaire"] and nodded as he rose, clicking his comms to broad beam a broadcast from his headset, but waiting.

"Unidentified ship, you will power down and prepare to be boarded or you will be destroyed..."

"Sorry bud, can't do that. Don't I wish I could, but I have business below..."

"Unidentified ship, this is Commander Rolstad of the One Sith... You will power down and prepare to be boarded or you will be destroyed..."

Julius let out a sigh, and as he was leaving the bridge, noticed the counter for the rest of the fleet was under a minute, and signaled his exit music. All broadcast antennas, even to hyperspace traffic, began blaring a loud and grating music. Julius' favorite for working out, if he were honest about the type of music he listened to. As the voice and reverb began, he couldn't help mouthing the words to an exceptionally cute comms ensign.

"Sorry boss, couldn't hear you over the sound of how awesome we are... How about this, we'll come to you.... Bridge, fire all guns at will, Commander Sedaire has the helm..."

With that, the rest of the rag-tag fleet began to show in ones and twos around the chosen point, and Julius waited by the landing torpedo bay, as his ship opened fire with deadly, if non damaging weapons. Once he was away, with a select group of folks, the ship was to high tail it back a bit and act as the command post. But Julius loved his dramatics, and so now it was up front.

The objective were simple and hopefully easy... Get into One Sith space, raid the former CorSec HQ with one group and the former Green Jedi Enclave with another. CorSec was a place where they were keeping quite a few overly patriotic Corellians.... Ones he could arm and let filter back into the populace to wreak havoc at will against the One Sith. ATC had kept their presence to a minimal, even in the fleet sense, so this mission was easier than some might think... He would have to send [member="Danger Arceneau"] a nice bottle and a thank you when it was all done...

The Enclave? The Enclave was personal.... They had cut off his peoples identity by subduing that and CorSec, in a big way they had. So he was coming home to show them that there was fire in the Corellian people yet. That they were NOT beaten and downtrodden just yet, and that they were going to fight tooth, nail and by the skin of their teeth if need be to crawl, to stand and claim their own again. As he settled into the launch bay he broadcast to his growing little task force, slipping in ear buds blaring music.

"All those for the Enclave, on my marker...."

Spoiler

Julius Planetside Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0kJLW2EwMg

OOC Thread HERE

 

[Titan]

Titan was in charge of the League's practical fleet command, recieving orders from Sarven, a slightly more experienced commander. His ships would came in opposite the rest of the ships, Titan's ships arrayed themselves with the two finisher's in front, immediately behind them were the Redundance-class corvettes, and bringing up the rear was the Captivator-class Duchess of Mandalore, Titan's current Flagship. The last would be used to stop any One Sith ships from escaping to warn the wider galaxy. The only reinforcments for the Sits would most likely arrive either by accident or by careful planning, after all, others were working on jamming the comms. None would escape. "Sir we have starfighters incoming, One Sith signals are being broadcasted." One of the bridge officers reported. Titan, staring out into the void of space, replied "Launch the fighters from the Alor, and the Sundari. Hold the rest back." Such a strategy had been part of the tactics for the battle designed by Titan in co-operation with Commander Sarven, holding most of the fighters back allowed those launched a smaller chance of accidently hitting one of their own, as well as lowering the targets for the enemy fighters. As the fighters from the Alor launched from the left, backed up a few minuets later from the right by the Starbird's from the Sundari, Titan watched the scene unfold. The One Sith fighters were outmatched and outgunned, but it didn't matter, Titan couldn't afford losses this early in the game, "Pull the fighters back among our capital ships, do not have them land though, let the Sith ships get closer." As the Starbird's obeyed the command, the One Sith defence Fighters followed them, right into the firing arcs of the Finisher's. The flak cannons soon finished them off, Titan waited onboard the Duchess of Mandalore for the Sith's next move.


My Ships:
Alor'ad Flottilla: (4675 Meters)(Hangars are filled with Starbird-class interceptors[60 Total](Attack: 11; Defense: 6; Flak: 0)

2x Finisher-class assault cruiser(Attack: 17; Defense: 5; Flak: 9

• The Alor
• The Concord Dawn

3x Redundance-class corvette(Attack: 12; Defense: 4; Flak: 12

• The Sundari
• The Kelbade
• The Shriek-Hawk

1x Captivator-class cruiser(Attack: 6; Defense: 9; Flak: 12

• The Duchess of Mandalore

 

[Arage Bao]

Corellia, CorSec HQ
[member="Kalad Shysa"]

The sounds of shouting, people running around and getting ready for the assault, the smell of plasma in the air. She breathed in... and breathed out... her heart raced and it pounded against her eardrums like a hammer against an anvil.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk Thunk Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

This usually wasn’t there scene. Kalad and her were professionals with a certain… reputation, for being ruthless, determined and focused in their destruction. So they were more likely found on the other side - but said other side… the One Sith wasn’t what it used to be. One of their contracts had made them aware of this job opportunity and with the rise of the Alliance, the decay of the Sith?

It seemed only logical to come in early and get their names out.

"Nervous?" Pike mumbled from beneath her breath while finally going over her rifle. It was a beautiful piece, one of the only ones that had managed to get through with her during all the other missions. Fully automatic with a semi and three-shot burst modes, disruptor; so illegal in most scenes, but the Corellians didn't seem to mind. It was in a rough state, the plastoid scratched and beated up in numerous places, but it was hers and hers only.

She blinked and that initialized the HUD linked up to her prosthetics. It immediately pointed out basic information: amount of shots left in her power-pack, medical feeds on the other individuals in the drop pod and a mini-map that currently wasn't activated yet. Too much of a drain to her systems and she would need them later on.

"No shame in that, Kally."

 

[Flora Burn]

Flora Burns former pirate of Blacksuns, she had been head hunted by a sith named Darth Banshee. She recently agreed terms with her, and came on board as mercenary of her. She was given a fleet Independant Military Developers ships, the once her new pay master makes. As she came out hyperspace with her fleet, she immediately saw an Mandalorian fleet. She sounded quarters, all former pirates began began to rush to battle stations. She then sent a message to lead ship, This is Flora Burns fleet commander and captain of the Banshee, I just thought I say hello, and ask what you doing here. As she spoke the fighters began to launch, and her ships began to close in. She was on board a Tarantula class cruiser, at side of her where boa class frigates, then two more cobra corvettes. Then in the rear was three anti fighter corvettes, called fangs. They began closing on the enemy fleet, and very soon would be in firing range. Life was good for a pirate, especially when the desperate gave her a modern fleet to fight with. She sat her chair and had swig of Corellian brandy, soon the bloody business of battle would begin. The ships had lined up, and moved to intercept the Mandalorian fleet, with the fangs in the rear.

She then sent a message to Darth Banshee, My Lord a Mandalorian fleet is here, what are my orders?

Spoiler

[member="Pike Alavar"] [member="Titan Kryze"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Astarii Saren"]
The Banshee I.M.D. Tarantula MkI Armament 12/20 Flak 0/20 Def 12/20 Spd/Man 13/13 Shields/Hull 600/600
The Scorpion I.M.D. Boa MkI Armament 16/20 Flak 0/20 Def 16/20 Spd/Man 11/11 Shields/Hull 400/400
The Scipio I.M.D. Boa MkI Armament 16/20 Flak 0/20 Def 16/20 Spd/Man 11/11 Shields/Hull 400/400
Venom I.M.D.Cobra MkI Armament 14/20 Flak 0/20 Def 14/20 Spd/Man 11/8 Shields/Hull 150/150
The Hood I.M.D.Cobra MkI Armament 14/20 Flak 0/20 Def 14/20 Spd/Man 11/8 Shields/Hull 150/150
The Saber I.M.D.Fang MkI Armament 6/20 Flak 14/20 Def 14/20 Spd/Man 7/7 Shields/Hull 80/80
The Claw I.M.D.Fang MkI Armament 6/20 Flak 14/20 Def 14/20 Spd/Man 7/7 Shields/Hull 80/80
The Tail I.M.D.Fang MkI Armament 6/20 Flak 14/20 Def 14/20 Spd/Man 7/7 Shields/Hull 80/80

Red Squadron 12x Eagles
Blue Squadron 12x Eagles
[member="Pike Alavar"] [member="Titan Kryze"] [member="Julius Sedaire"]

 

[Mav Halo]

[member="Pike Alavar"]

The end of his cigarra glowed dimly in the overcast light of the drop pod, a thin trail of smoke escaping the mercenaries mouth as he busied his hands with the final stages of his gear check. Calm and steady, belying the flicker of adrenaline that was starting to well up in his veins at what was to come.

Corellia.

It was just another misshapen rock as far as Kalad was concerned. If it had been found on the outer reaches, he severely doubted anyone would’ve cared enough to put together a bake sale, let alone stage a daring raid for freedom. Fierfek, if it wasn’t for the vaunted shipyards, he doubted the republic or the galactic alliance would’ve even noticed when the netherworld fractured it in two.

Still, it seemed that someone cared. Enough to dig a hand into their pockets and produce enough credits to turn even the most apathetic heart Corellian green. Certainly enough to pique the interest of his business partner if nothing else. Although he wasn’t sure if it was the allure of money or the promised possibility of chaos and wanton destruction that had lured Alavar into taking this job.

“You can’t smoke that in here.” A voice to the left of him piped up, stilling his hands and dragging him from his musings, shifting his attention away from the blaster into his lap to find the source of the intrusion. A mousy looking mercenary with a touch too much baby fat around the cheeks to be remotely intimidating despite his obvious attempts to the contrary. “Don’t you know that stuff will kill you?”

“Friend, we’re about to drop into territory occupied by some of the blood thirstiest, anger ridden backbirths to ever walk these stars.” He took one last final drag from the thin, cancerous death stick before stubbing it out on the side of the drop pod. Flashing the rodentine looking man a lopsided, yet decidedly unfriendly smile. “If you’re worried about a little second hand smoke, you got your priorities all wrong. Fierfek, you'll be begging for a cigarra before this day is through.”

The man opened his mouth for a rebuttal, yet closed it a second later as he clearly thought better of it. Smart move. There were times when discretion really was the better part of valour, robbing a Mandalorian of his pre-combat ritual being a prime example of knowing when to exercise caution. Of course, as Pike chimed in, it came to mind that there were some in life that simply just didn’t know any better.

“You know me, dala.” Kalad practically shouted in response, fighting to be heard over the sound of the drop pod gearing up for a launch. The anticipation in his chest rose a notch. It wouldn’t be long now. “Only reason I ain’t pissing myself right now is that I’m afraid of rust spots. Think I got time before we launch?”

Apparently not. Even as the last words fell from his mouth, the launch light turned from red to an almost symbolic green. The warning claxons blaring in his ears as he holstered his sidearm and reached for his helmet, jamming the battered looking buy’ce into pride of place.

“Oya. Let’s earn some creds.”

 

[Titan]

Redacted.

 

[Titan]

"To have some fun. And, to be fair, your allies fired on us first. Viva la Corrillea!' Titan said into the comm, he would then open up a channel to his ascociates. "The Sith are here, grab you're stuff and get going. This is gonna be a heck of a ride." Titan closed all comms before continuing, "Man your battle stations, we aren't going down without a fight." His two squadrons that had already launched flew up next to the Finishers, awaiting his command. Even though the opposition had more ships, they were smaller. And he had more fighters. "Standby for further orders." Titan told his crew, he waited for the opposition's next move.

Spoiler: Fleet

Alor'ad Flottilla: (4675 Meters)(Hangars are filled with Starbird-class interceptors[60 Total](Attack: 11; Defense: 6; Flak: 0)

2x Finisher-class assault cruiser(Attack: 17; Defense: 5; Flak: 9; )

• The Alor(Hull/Shield: 950/950)
• The Concord Dawn(Hull/Shield: 950/950)

​3x Redundance-class corvette(Attack: 12; Defense: 4; Flak: 12

• The Sundari (Hull/Shield: 200/200)
• The Kelbade (Hull/Shield: 200/200)
• The Shriek-Hawk (Hull/Shield: 200/200 )

1x Captivator-class cruiser(Attack: 6; Defense: 9; Flak: 12

• The Duchess of Mandalore(Hull/Shield: 975/975)

[member="Flora Burn"]

 

[Tiberius Varro]

"Freighter, you have received confirmation to dock in Spaceport 287, level F, berth 87-B. Do not deviate from the course we have sent or you will be destroyed," came the official response from planetside. "Acknowledge immediately."

Tskolo exchanged glances with his droid co-pilot.

"Krayt's Pearl acknowledges, Coronet," the Rodian replied promptly with a grimace over the comm.

"Kriffing ignoramuses," he grumbled. He was certain that the link had been broken before he spoke, of course. You couldn't be too careful around these Sith Imperial types. He'd heard stories in the many cantinas of the galaxy.

That had all been less than five minutes ago. Now the skies seemed to boil with activity. The Rodian exchanged another look with DD-53. This time he spoke to the automaton.

"Please don't tell me what I think is happening is happening," he said glumly.

"Alright, sir, I won't tell you that there appears to be an attack occurring in the upper atmosphere not 5000 meters away."

The Rodian scowled.

"I told you not to tell me!"

"I didn't, sir," came the perpetually tired voice.

"I swear you almost enjoy torturing me, DD"

"No sir, I'm incapable of enjoyment."

Just once Tskolo would like a blue milk run. In and out, credits in his account. But no, not him. Yes, he was running illegal blasters to rebels in Coronet. But who was he to stop the will of such a proud and noble world!

He'd be making a tidy profit, hiding his dealings under a small amount of legitimate computer parts he'd also sell. But a being had to eat and food was never free. Except when he stole it... occasionally. Stealing was such an ugly word, he decided. He was BORROWING it...much better.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

D R A L L
The Corellia Digital Building

They said it was a brave Jedi who slept in Sith territory.

However, no one ever said that it was a neat or clean Jedi who slept in Sith territory. The small Anzat slept in a bed that looked like it had been attacked by a stampeding rancor. The duvet was throw off of one side, while the top sheet was like a waterfall of fabric spilling over onto a completely different side of the bed. The boy had made a complete ninety-degree turn, so that his body was parallel to the head board. The pillows were strewn all over the place.

And how the pillow case managed to get free of the pillow was anyone's guess.

The corporate headquarters of the IT conglomerate known as Corellia Digital had originally been located on the planet Corellia. Specifically, in Coronet City. With the loss of Corellia to the Netherworld phenomenon, that corporate headquarters had shifted to what had originally been a research and development facility on the next planet over. The top floor of the building served as a condominium for the president and CEO of the company, as well as hosting guest quarters to accommodate any visiting VIPs as well.

"Master Xantha! Master Xantha! Oh my...."

Fact: Protocol droids were the cause of seventeen percent of all Jedi falls to the Dark Side.

Especially when they woke you up at the buttcrack of dawn!

The child's legs shuffled around, his grey eyes fluttering open as he squirmed and stretched with a large yawn. Extending his legs straight up into the air, the boy used his body weight to swing himself so that he was seated upright on the edge of the bed, even as he looked around in confusion. There were soda cans, crisp tins, and candy wrappers all over the place. The bedroom looked the scene of some Fizzyglug-fueled thermal detonator had gone off. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces of a late-night Ultimate Sith Fighter Budokai HoloStation tournament... then...

Then he'd probably passed the feth out.

64 in Anzat years made the Jedi Master roughly equivalent to 10-ish in human years.

"Wha-ziz-it, Threepio?" the young Anzat managed, his eyes still closed as his head hung to one side. He brought a hand up as he gave another yawn, then pushed his fingers up into his hair in order to shove the fringe aside that was hanging down into his eyes. Much like the room looked a total disaster, the boy was boasting a head of hair that was arrayed wildly.

"Terrorists! Upstarts! Usurpers!"

He pushed his fingers through his hair, his hand settling toward the back of his head. Scratching at that spot absently, the boy's eyes barely opened as he gave the droid a look of complete confusion. "...wha?"

"They've attacked the Sith! They're battling in orbit of Corellia right now!"

Who would attack the Sith?

I mean, take a number, but... this was Brokellia. Who would attack the Sith here? Oh wait, it was coming back to him now. "I thought that was 'sposed to be tomorrow," the child uttered aloud. Pulling his legs in, the youngling shifted around until he was on his hands and knees, crawling along the bed and looking for where his HoloLink had vanished to. His head hung upside down, peering under the bed. Yep, there it was.

...and it was still set for Kal'Shebbol time.

Pfft. So much for 'auto detect time zone.' What kind of crap software was [member="Marque"] supplying them with?

Nevermind that those months in the Kathol Outback had caused him to miss the last five software updates and patches...

Slapping the HoloLink around his wrist, the boy reared back and then pitched forward. Flipping off the bed, the child Jedi landed upright like a gymnast at a competition. "All right... serious Sor-Jan!" the youth declared, before making his serious face. This was getting SERIOUS! "Threepio, I need a HoloBoy Advanced, a CD-95x, and... see if you can find that XJ9 prototype we had when Coci and Matsu visited."

With a slight bow, the protocol droid began shuffling back out the door.

"Oh, and this is VERY important."

The protocol droid stopped, its movements stilted as it waddled back a step so it could direct its forward-facing sensors toward the boy. "Sir?"

"We're gonna need cereal."

The droid started to move again. Then stopped. Then waddled back a second time. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm hungry," the young Anzat declared simply, planting his hands on his hips. If [member="Julius Sedaire"] wanted some communications networks, then SJ was definitely going to need to start the day with all the parts of a balanced breakfast.

 

[Kruel Zing]

Location: Home -> Green Jedi Enclave
Objective: Fight
Allies: Corellian League


Kneeling before what had once been his home Yorin wept openly as he had for many years. How he wished to return to the logic based being he had once been. Before he learned what it meant to love before coming to Corellia and getting absorbed in the fiery nature of the people. Before becoming a part of the culture itself. It was like having a fresh wound ripped in his chest. Drops of what looked like mercury fell from the Polydroxol’s eyes his head bowed. How many times have you done this? He thought to himself and he knew the answer all too well. Yorin had been grieving since the netherworld incident. While Corellia was being restored over time Yorin didn’t care. He had lost everything. The family he had, the world he loved. All of it was no more as the Sith controlled it.

However, there was a chance now. It was time to make a change and the Corellian League would help do it. Yorin had sat on the sidelines for too long blending in with the society beneath Sith rule. Of not acting one being couldn’t do it alone. That’s why he joined the Corellian League. For just such a moment. “One day I will build you all proper graves.” Yorin whispered. Rising to his full height the man activated his radio. The raid had started and it was time for him to play his part. He had vowed he would create his families’ graves when the Sith were expunged from their world. This was the first step necessary. Moving to the waiting speeder the silvery body of the polydroxol began to shift to that of a fit man with a bald head. Intense green eyes stared forward as Yorin hopped in the vehicle. “en route to enclave now.”

In the seat next to Yorin was a simple sonic rifle along with three thermal detonators and a CR-2 blaster pistol. It had been all he had been able to scrape together without drawing the attention of too many Sith. If he had real hair it probably would’ve stood on end due to the excitement of what was coming next.

 

[Van Bri'tsyd]

Objective: Corellia, CorSec HQ
Location: aboard the "Kark it"
Allies: [member="Tskolo Ree"] | [member="Pike Alavar"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"]
Enemies: TBD -

[member="Julius Sedaire"] sure did know how to make an entrance, big loud and with as much "pew pew" as possible. The Coronel liked him already. With the Sith one fleet occupied he had chosen to use the back door while the other beat down the front. Sneaking is frigate into polar orbit by precisely droping out of hyperspace there he was now on his way to the ventral airlock. Looking over the C-net city maps he reviewed what was was to be multi-fold operation. First part was to get his drop pods planet site and all their lovely guns to the rebellion forming on Corellia proper. Second was to find and raid the sith occupied CorSec HQ, get whatever munitions and data they could and blow it to hell if he could. Third was an unofficial mission one his newly acquired sister in law had requested and since it didn't interfere with the main op he had no issue running it seeing the payment she promised.

With a final puff of his smoke, he threw the still lit nub into a nearby trash shoot and smiled as he entered the airlock.

"Time to go to work."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

How many years has it been?​

​

The world below is a culmination of my wildest dreams. I knew what it looked like from the ground, once. I felt the earth beneath my feet and longed to soar in the skies. All Corellians feel that compulsion at some point in their lives. Freedom among the clouds, the stars, the unknown- those are all the birthright of children born to Corellian parents. There was a time when I knew those dreams and aspired to make them my reality. Too late I realized that freedom comes at a heavy price.​

​

If blood is thicker than water, then Corellian blood is thicker than any substance in the galaxy. We're all brothers and sisters in a way that no culture in the galaxy quite understands. My past deeds notwithstanding, I understand exactly what everyone here is feeling right now. I've never understood anything better in my entire life. I was cursed to never set foot on my homeworld more than a lifetime ago, when I was still a boy. I watched as everything that defined who I was ebbed away on elongated starlight, condemned to a life of killing and running away.​

​

But I'm done running.​

​

Some eight hundred and seventy years separate me from the Corellia of my youth. Even the world below me, broken and misshapen as it is, most likely holds no faint resemblance to the planet where I was born. I still remember her, though. I still remember Corellia. On some level, I think she remembers me, too. I've come back. Did you miss me, my beautiful Corellia?​

​

I have missed you, so very much.
​

Location: Landing Zone, outside Coronet City
Objective: Liberate his Home.


As the buy'ce slipped over his head, Alkor closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer for those who had fallen. He prayed for those who would fall. The black armor covered his flesh in an almost familiar way now. He remembered days when he held a lightsaber and stared into the abyss, where the Force spoke to him and whispered all the secrets that his enemies tried to hide. In that way, he became the shadow of death that the Dark Jedi sought to create.

Alkor understood now that there was more to this galaxy than the omnipresent Force. A man knew what he saw with his eyes better than anything his mind struggled to perceive. The HUD came to life with a static view of all the bogies in the area, and a proximity warning blared across his line of sight to warn him that an opposing force was en route to their location. Of course the planetary defenses would be quick to catch on. He was slowly learning to divorce himself from the extrasensory perception that Force Adepts relied on. It was like night and day, reacting to something you could comprehend and reacting to something that was just gut feeling.

It was like being alive, and not dead.

"Oya," he murmured into the comm. It was almost the only word he knew, but it was appropriate. Let's hunt.

Alkor slammed the bay door shut and the Drop Pod flickered to life around him. Unlike before, where he was surrounded by troop contingents in transit, Centaris found himself utterly alone. The only thing between him and the planet was open space and atmosphere. Silence was sacrosanct, and his thoughts were the only things keeping him company. His eyes slowly shut and he mentally prepared himself for an engagement nearly a thousand years late.

The pod skewered through upper atmo quickly, then furiously ripped toward the planetary surface. Without the proper coordinates to input, they dropped him "someplace near Coronet," and told him that they hoped he knew the layout well enough to make due.

He wondered what that meant.

With a loud crash, Alkor dug his boots into the floor as his pod skidded across land and screeched to a halt. The Drop Pod screeched for a moment, then a light turned green to tell him that it was safe to exit. The door slowly creaked open, and the warrior slowly stepped out and looked all around at a world drastically changed. There was nothing that he remembered, but more than that...

It was almost a ruin.

Nothing in the past could have prepared him for the blasted remains of a world torn in twain. His HUD brought live feed of the rebuilding effort that dragged to a halt nearby, all that remained of a once great hub of interstellar travel. No flights of fighters graced the airways, and the once pristine and azure skyline was forever marred a bloody color that resonated fiercely with the anger in his chest.

No.

I will never give myself to that anger. Never again.

Alkor gripped his shotgun in hand as he cleared the LZ and strode into the thick of an urban warzone. His top priority just now were the people. He waited for an update, any sign of nearby life. The HUD would be able to pick out targets and give him an idea of what he was dealing with. Just remember what Zef said, and be patient. Everything else would fall into place after that, he reminded himself.

 

[Tiberius Varro]

Allies: Anybody not Sith around Coronet
Enemies: Any OS in general

"Kriffing!-" Tskolo's profanity was cut off as he was forced to bank away from a surface to air defense turrent's missle. Now the Sith were even shooting at him! He wasn't even with the attackers, for the love of the Force!

"Coronet control, this is Krayt's Pearl why am I being shot at?!," the Rodian squawked over the comm.

"Automated defenses have been engaged freighter, now clear the comm for important business!," barked the traffic controller.

"Important business!," Tskolo said indignantly...once the comm had been cut off again "I AM IMPORTANT BUSINESS...AHHHHH!"

He let out the last yell as he banked hard yet again. That missle had been far too close! Then a klaxon began to blare in the cockpit. "Oh sweet mother's milk, what now!?"

"It appears secondary cooling to the sublight engines has been severed, sir," came the tired droid voice. Tskolo groaned audibly. If he made it out alive, this was going to eat into his profits! But first, make it out aiive!

"DD, go patch it up!," he ordered but the battered droid had already been standing up to do just that.

"Yes, sir," came the almost sarcastic response. Tskolo didn't even spare the droid his usual scowl. He was gonna have to land so he didn't get blown out of the sky. But where?, he wondered.

The spaceport wouldn't let him in at a time like this. They'd be scrambling anything they had for defense. Off in the distance, he saw it. A huge scrapyard with just enough room....

 

[Ria Misrani]

Allies: The Corellians
Enemies: the One Sith
Objective: Eliminate Hostiles, Recapture CorSec HQ
Location: CorSec HQ, Former Traffic Division Hall

​

One of the things Symara was taught from TRT. Learn how to blend into your surroundings, do more than just wear the clothes, do more than learn how they walk but learn how they talk. Infiltrating the Sith after they've been manhandled by the Alliance? A little bit easier than she had thought, but then if someone can swipe a fleet from the Republic.

This probably wasn't all that hard, either.

Tactical Response Team, had been an elite pilot-commando unit much like Rogue One. Symara had the privilege of serving with them before moving into Special Ope. Infiltration and TRT went hand in hand much like Corellia and Shipwright did. Walking through the hall of the old traffic division, she mused to herself how much she used to hate taking the traffic beat. What she really wanted to do was to get out there and bust some heads, not sit around writing traffic tickets all day long. Fun fact, even if the Sith had been on Corellia for awhile, no one knew CorSec HQ quite like a former CorSec Agent.

After Gyndine, Symara was headed to Tygara but caught wind of a raid going down on Corellia, by Corellians. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to slip back home. Although, it had been hard to come back here, to come back to where her family had died. Come back to what had once been broken. She thought of her late wife, and her two daughters, it was all she needed to think of to know. That as she now unlocked the case that housed her sniper rifle, it was time to take back what had been lost. No longer would her home be subjugated by the Sith.

She sat on the bench in front of a set of lockers, her hand running along the slugthrower sniper. Symara thought on the journey that brought her back here. She had happened upon a slicer, a young girl, blonde hair who was going on about having to do something on Coruscant. The girl had been a contact point sent by the Corellian League, said girl was the one who offered Symara a way into Corellia and back here on CorSec. So she could do one thing: take it all back.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4zigrgH-_k[/media]​

 

[Julius Sedaire]

There was a whoomph of decompressing air as Julius shot out the landing torpedo bay with a void suit on, several others following his pattern. Rather than a silent insertion, Julius blazed hot in the Force, barking out orders for adjustment to his team as the rocketed downward. This required more precision than other insertions. They had an Enclave to purge, an affront to the Force itself. The Darkside used those who it touched, and corrupted them eventually. Not to say you couldn't tow the line, Julius had met some who could. However, he had met more than that who could not, and only deluded themselves they were walking a straight line, so to speak.

A blazing comet follow him, and suddenly he crashed hard into the surface of the planet in his singular landing torpedo. Reaction time boosted by the Force, he was up and tearing off the voidsuit faster than any man had a right to move. Moments later he stood, eyes scanning around his LZ as others landed or approached. The team had been loosely organized, so he did know roughly when, how many and the like. There might be a few stragglers or newcomers, but not enough to cause severe panic. Adjusting the vanguard armor to busy his hands, he drew to MP-1 from its' hardcase on his thigh and waited, lightsaber in a case in the small of his back.

With not much else to do, the Green Jedi looked around his former home, and sighed, running a gauntleted and gloved hand through sandy-brown hair, eyes almost wistful in their steel-blue gaze. ATC had done wonders, to hear it all stated and to see and know what it was like before. But there was still much to be done in the surface life, so to speak. Now, however, would be the time that they took over. It would not do for the Galaxy to help along such independent people, because there would always be some who would look at that as if owing them something, and that would not do. The reaction to that would be.... Less than good... He felt like he should say something grand and heroic, but instead he just finally smiled and stretched a bit, feeling the hum of Vapaad beginning in his bones.

 

[Aerin Kath]

Place: Corellia, some guy's front lawn
Enemies: One Sith ground forces
Allies: The Corellian League
Objective: Blow-up a Sith conclave(or something like that)

What a rush. Landing torpedoes aside Aerin had a job to do. sadly that Job had to do with him finding the pods that contained the six vehicles that Aerin had made specifically for this mission. One pod had landed in a pond in some poor guy's front yard. the other were scattered around the guys house, one barely missing the man enjoying his morning caf. "Sorry, just getting people their vehicles fast." once Aerin had gathered up all the speeders he puts them in neutral and ties them together like a line of horses while he gets onto the one in the front. he speeds off to find [member="Julius Sedaire"] and the rest of the conclave crew. as Aerin pulls up with the speeders he looks around " Well sir, hope I brought enough speeders."

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

#FreeCorellia, #BurntheSith, #MakeBrokelliawholeagain!


These and many other hash tags were currently trending on Fwitter. The once seemingly invincible One Sith Empire was collapsing like a house of cards. Coruscant had fallen, now it was time to liberate this benighted world for Truth, Justice and the Corellian way! Or something similarly dramatic.


Anyhow, one of many drop pods shot through the atmosphere and descended downward towards the planet with alarming speed that came close to that of a small comet. The drop pod tore through the sky. There was nothing subtle about its entry, but this was just fine with its singular occupant as she rocketed downward.


Elpsis Elaris was not a Corellian. Nor did she have any particular ties to this world. However, she knew how much the planet had suffered during Akala's temper tantrum. Moreover, she really hated Sith. So here she was, blazing hot in the Force. Light Side, Dark Side, both terms were academic to her. After all, she worked for a Dark Jedi paramilitary.


She dug her boots into the pod's floor and anchored herself with the Force as the craft hit the ground, skidding across the ground before it screeched to a halt. Light turned green, then the door opened with a hiss. Quickly she got to her feet and gathered her gear. Even with all the reconstruction work that had been done, Coronet was still a shadow of its former self. The great hub of trade had been turned into a husk.


She winced when her empathic senses were assaulted by the accummulated pain and misery on this world. It hit her with the force of a freight tram. Luckily, thanks to Laina's training, she was better at dealing with it and erected a wall around her mind. Bolter in hand and lightsabre within reach, she left the pod. Her coordinates had been less than precise, but CorSec ought to be close. Presumably there'd be bad people to shoot somewhere.

 

[Flint Michigan]

The raid on Corellia was in it's beginning stages. [member="Julius Sedaire"] had begun to lead the ground forces into taking down a Temple the One Sith had built up on the planet they'd put back together while [member="Titan Kryze"] was pulling his ships out of hyperspace and causing general havoc and attracting the attention of the One Sith Navy stationed around the planet. Flint himself was back-up fire support, bringing the big guns when they were needed. For now he was a system away, around Chandrilla, waiting for his signal. Didn't want to give away too much information too quick, lest the One Sith call for more fleets.

"Varric, give me the Comms." Flint said to his helmsman, who gave a quick reply and transferred him over. Flint would click a button on his headset and be patched into the intercomms of the whole ship.

"This your Captain Flint speaking. The Corellian League has begun their assault and are heading to the Sith Temple. I want to take these last few minutes to thank each and everyone one of you that decided to stay here with me and take this mission, despite the dangers. I'm not Corellian, and neither are a bunch of you, but I know the Corellians. I know their pride, their culture, and I appreciate it. And I understand just a glimpse of the suffering they've been through, having their home destroyed only to be rebuilt and re-purposed by the worst of our enemies. But Coruscant has fallen, and the time to strike is now. To show them that Galactic Alliance isn't the only one that can take the fight to them. That their injustices will no longer be tolerated. To show the rest of the Galaxy that with some good friends and a little daring they can join the fight for Freedom, and it's a fight we can win."

"Now let's give 'em hell."

[member="Kitt Solo"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Corellia, CorSec HQ
[member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Cody Bantam"] | [member="Symara Tarriq"]

Breathe… just breathe and enjoy the show.

Pike gave her rifle one last rub for good luck, before locking it down on her back and petting the holster of her revolver on her belt. A soldier- mercenary: all they had was customs, little rituals before a skirmish to get some of that good luck, because when your entire job was dancing into enemy gunfire?

You could use all the luck in the Galaxy.

"Am sure we can find you an easy Sithling cheeka who wouldn’t mind oiling up your parts, Kally." It was shouted in response, because the mood in the tight drop pod was increasing with murmurs transitioning into rumbling, with the winds outside turning into a hurricane of screeches and moans.

This is what it meant to be alive.

Red to green to klaxons shouting at them to get ready. Pike didn’t respond anymore, she closed her eyes and whispered a short prayer to the Above, before smiling a bloody smile and nodding.

It was time.

All of a sudden the winds cleared, the silence swept in and the soldiers looked at one another for a moment. It was the silence before the storm, their spirits tightly spun and just waiting to be released- all it needed was a conduit.

"OYA." Alavar shouted out loud. It escaped her clenched jaws and then it was gone into the silence, but before she could get embarrassed a roar responded in kind. The doors launched open and now they were running.

Running.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

D R A L L
The Corellia Digital Building

Serious Sor-JanTM had finally put on some clothes.

He'd thrown on a pair of soft pajama pants, which demonstrated his commitment to the fight by virtue of the fact that they were decorated with little X-Wings and TIE Fighters. Nothing said take the fight to the Sith like pajama pants with X-Wings and TIE Fighters on them. Second, he'd donned a t-shirt with a faded Rebel flamebird icon on it. Because he was clearly a Rebel. After all, he still hadn't combed his hair.

And not combing your hair was totally Rebel!

"JOE!"
"What will Gekiganger Three do now? Tune in next time, same Holo Time, same Holo Channel..."

The youngling knight sat on the floor of his bedroom, his back against the side of the bed as his grey eyes were fixated on the animated holo-cartoons that were running on the Corellian Broadcast Channel. As he did, his hands and arms seemed to move with a will of their own. He'd pick up the bowl of Frosted Lucky Dejgi Feet and shovel a spoonful or two into his mouth, then set that aside and pick up the HoloBoy Advanced. He'd type away with his thumbs for a minute, then toss that down and pick up the tall glass of blue milk. Take a swig of that, then it was over to the CD-95x subspace radio unit.

All without taking his eyes off the gorram damn cartoons.

Because youngling!

Planting the spoon of cereal in his mouth, the boy held the spoon there, the handle jutting out from his mouth as though it were a cigar, as he picked up the prototype XJ9 for a few last minute modifications.

He'd set up a remote proxy server off a communications satellite in orbit of Selonia, which was pinging off a Virtual Private Network based out of Centerpoint Station, which was sending the activation signal to a subspace radio repeater orbiting near the wreckage of the old Security Station Five in orbit of Corellia. And that was broadcasting the private communications network that ought to provide [member="Julius Sedaire"] with the ability to talk to whoever he needed to talk to, without fear of having those conversations being overheard.

And if some slicer got on the net, it would be easy to take down the VPN or isolate them into an unending-loop of possible network connections.

Pulling the spoon from out of his mouth, the boy picked up his bowl of cereal. Hopefully the Sith weren't going to be slicing any time soon... because Astral Boy was about to come on.