Casus Belli (Tygaran Alliance/Galactic Alliance vs First Order Rebellion of Kaeshana)

[Progflaw99]

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[ img source ]​

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In Vicinity:​

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Torian Pierce"]​

[member="Pharazon Draken"] | [member="BE-183"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]​

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Objective: Counter-attack, Clear the trenches from the flank.​

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Enemies: Those Resisting the First Order​

[member="Tempest"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Elliot Locke"] | @GA/Firemane Troops​

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Just like that - they were off. The signal given to his men, the two rear-most platoons laid down a voracious base of fire, their blasters, sonic rifles, and missiles creating a new chaos on the battlefield. From the Eastern flank they tore into the trenches, missiles exploding and sending debris flying every which way. For those of the enemy caught in the confines of the trench walls when a missile hit it would spell almost certain death, and if they were to test their fate above the edge of their new positions in the trenches? The odds were not much better. Through the torrent of blaster fire, Rolf's first and second platoon charged forward, rushing to cover the 30 meter space between their cover and the nearest trench ramp. It felt like forever, left foot in front of right, right foot in front of left. The sound of heavy breathing filled Rolf's ears as he thundered towards his target, the much lighter reporter ahead of him. Explosions ripped through the earth, showering the troopers in dirt and rock as they pressed their assault. Twenty meters. Lifting the blaster to chest level, Rolf began picking out targets, the domed helmets of the enemy soldiers showing above the trench lines. Rapid squeezes of the trigger while he ran sent arrays of blaster bolts towards them, if he was lucky they would hit. The stormtroopers behind him did the same, opening up on any non-First Order forces. Ten Meters. A short distance in reality but it felt like kilometers. A final surge of energy pulsed through the Major's veins. There was always more to give, always harder to push - that was - until your body physically gave out. Rolf was familiar with hitting the wall physically, and he knew that if he could just push past it he would be able to break into a new groove. Five Meters. Five meters. A mere fifteen feet and change.

*BAROOOOM!* ​

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The next thing Rolf felt was his body flying through the air, propelled by the eruption of some explosive several meters behind him. As he frantically tried to take in his surroundings, he felt the world twist under his gaze. He hadn't landed yet. In a flash of vision he saw Lydia had made it to the trench, her form crouched low against the wall, troopers behind him still flocking towards the trenches. In a flash, he caught the iconic four thruster outline of an X-wing fly overhead, followed closely by their own First Order TIE's. *A shame - I hope they get the bugger* he thought aimlessly as he continued to fall through the air. With a solid thud Rolf landed, his head slamming into the ground. Everything went black.

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Fire. Fire in his lungs. Painfully he felt his body involuntarily shudder with a shallow breath. Five meters. He had been... Eyes searching he tried to get his bearings. He was in the trench, the bodies of fallen troopers and GA soldiers alike littering the small walkway carved into the earth. Carefully he began to take stock of his body, his gloved hands and arms slowly rising in front of his face. There was a small tear in one of the gloves, a small cut across his left hand, minor at best. Blinking his eyes darted to his legs - thank the gods, they were still attached. It was a fear no soldier liked to admit - losing limbs. No longer were they doomed to live out their lives limbless by any means, prosthesis had come a long way - but that didn't keep the men from fearing loss of limb. Forcing a ragged cough, he took a deeper breath, noting the dryness of his mouth. Bringing his legs up and scrambling wobbly to his feet, he crouched low beneath the edge of the trench, fumbling for the sonic blaster that had somehow managed to stay strapped to his body. Examining it quickly, it appeared to still be functional. *Good*. Grasping it tightly, he looked up, realizing that he'd lost track of the reporter. *There*. Still crouched. More stormtroopers now entered the trench, forcing their way into the same trenches held by both the GA soldiers and Firemane mercenaries alike.

Droid fire had cut across their ranks but they remained strong, the third and fourth platoons still unleashing hell from the eastern flank, firing at anything and everything, especially taking note to launch missiles at some of the large droid walkers that had begun to harass Rolf's lead platoons. Rolf himself shuffled over to where Lydia sat hunched over. Painfully he spoke, the vocoder in his helmet cutting in and out slightly.

"You made it... good." Unceremoniously he reached down to where the body of a slain trooper lay, unclipping the KD-30 and a small magazine pouch. "Take this - you may need it."​

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Holding out the weapon to the woman, he grimaced as a pain shot through his body. Gritting his teeth he coughed once. That blast had thrown him the remaining meters into the trench and as he looked back to where he'd been - a sick feeling churned at the pit of his stomach, the taste of unbidden saliva rising in his mouth. Forcing down a swallow, he gripped his blaster tightly with one hand while he held out the slugthrower to Lydia. She may have been a reporter, but on the battlefield there was no prejudice, all were equal in the eyes of death. Turning from her, he kept low. Gathring what troopers he could, he pushed forward, sending several troopers ahead of himself as they began traversing the complex trenchworks. A half squad ahead, a half squad behind, Rolf held his SWE/2 Sonic Rifle at the ready.

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Spoiler

1 x FO-01 Stormtrooper Armor

1 x KD-30 "Dissuader" Slugthrower
1 x F-11 D Blaster Rifle (Rolf's is now Missing)
1 x SWE/2 Sonic Rifle

3 x CryoBan Grenade
2 x G-20 Glop Grenades
2 x Thermal Detonators
2 x Electromagnetic Pulse Grenade
1 trooper in each squad carries a PLX-1 Portable Missile Launcher instead of Blaster and Sonic Rifles, leaving them with a KD-30 and their launcher.

Troop Complement: 1 Company, 115/200 First Imperial Shock Troopers (See Loadout Above)

OOC: As always, if I missed something or failed to respond to something - please feel free to PM me!

 

[Darth Veles]

[SIZE=10pt]Satanissa[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]With: [member="Isla Ashen"], [member="Kaalia Voldaren"], [member="Arlen Rossi"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Against: [member="Kira Vaal"], [member="Ryan Korr"], [member="Elincia Alanis"], [member="Kaida Taldir"], [member="Aeda Shaytari"], [member="Six-O"], [member="Kiyron"], [member="Ghorumgash Khazund-Veranum"][/SIZE]


[SIZE=10pt]A new challenger approached, powerful signature singing through the Force and having him know the abilities she wielded were not to be underestimated. Completely dismissing the hostage’s well-being, she swiftly cast her freezing spell, marking her as one of the combatants responsible for the bad weather – and so taking her out became priority. Once the unnatural, thick crust of ice started to materialize, Darth Veles’ cybernetic hand formed a fist – shattering the layer like glass and casting a suspiciously calm gaze towards the perpetrator, sight shifting back and forth between the two enemies, measuring them like exotic animals to be eviscerated and put on a wall. Or perhaps a cross. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He said nothing, but according to the fiery sparks dancing within both warmly painted eyes, the Sith lord intended to melt the cold casting witch and shatter her Jedi ally. Behind his back, the Ren duo waged a battle of their own, holding up the best they could. His intended activity of squashing the two opponents like insects was significantly helped by one of the flame-haired disciples. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Without exchanging words, they took the dead weight off Darth Veles’ shoulders and retreated, disappearing from the fight. Left alone, the thought of retreating crossed his mind as well, but removing two opponents out of equation tempted him too much. Now he had no hostage, no ticket out, only his skills and two hands – which he raised, commanding the dark side of the Force to entwine around both of his opponent’s necks in an attempt to squeeze their windpipes tight. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Gone was the outer calmness – the Dark lord’s vengeful hatred poured through his will, eyes gaining in yellow hue as his connection deepened still in this try of a quick, yet firm and unyielding Force choke that would lift both off the roof, smash them together like rag dolls, use their forms as living shields and maintain his hold for as long as it took. [/SIZE]

 

[HK-36]

Character: HK-36-1
Location: Ruins of Santaissa
Objective: Begin hunting FO officers and Force-Users, neutralize the rookie stormtrooper working on the repeater
Allies: All by himself, outside of his copy waiting in a stealth transport,
Enemies: [member="Jude Falkrowe"] and the Raven Squad, [member="Torian Pierce"] in the sky?
Equipment: Phrik Droid Body, Anti-Force Vong Biot Suit, 2x Electro-Cestus, Spear of Rae, Electro-Flail, HK's Training Lightsaber (Sliver of Light), 2x Magnetic Revolvers (Heavy), Magnetic Repeater (Heavy), Chameleon Cloak, Sigil of Hope, D.U.S.T., Anti-Force User Grenades, Grappling Hook (Pistol Format), Photoreceptor HypnoGaze attachment, jetpack, simple wrappings for camouflage and concealment.
Forces: The Knight Of The Eclipse (Dark Harvester Prize Stealth Transport) with a collection of shattergun-miniguns, bowcasters, and blast-staves on board

"Wow, you are really going at it."

The droid just took a moment to see his trick come into fruition as the rookie stormtrooper went to town on building snowmen.

"It is almost as if you actually-"

"Don't let the Supreme Leader in~"

"Now you are singing, I am leaving."

And with that the machine moved away, cloaked to stalk the stormtroopers once more. As he moved he received a transmission from his Greycloak, the one piloting his stealth transport, hanging around somewhere in the area just waiting for the main droid unit to need him,

We have an enemy air presence coming your way, probably an air strike.

Noted, they do not know my current position I should be safe.

I also spotted some crucifixion sites from air, looks like they executed locals and left them burning.

Bloody savages, I will put the fear of Machine God into them. Stay hidden, do not attract any attention to yourself. I will call upon you when I need you.

Aye-aye.


Soon enough the TIE craft screamed across the sky, dropping their payload of Mag Bombs onto the ruins where HK was first spotted, they exploded with brilliant blue lights and electric crackling like a miniature confined thunderstorm being dropped by the bombers. Fortunately the droid would be spared from the bombardment that would at least temporarily disable him for the fact that he was behind the stormtrooper lines since that was where the lad with repeater was that the machine distracted away from his duties. Since the stormtroopers themselves were not affected by the blast that would disable their communication and weapons, then it was safe to assume that the machine was too, since he would be even farther away from the blast.

Once the Mag-Pulse was dropped a cloud of dust would rise up and bellow out onto the field, for purely dramatic reasons to add more tension, and to allow one of the stormtroopers on the far left flank of the squad to notice a tall silhouette standing right in front of him,

"What the-"

The trooper sounded out quickly, raising his gun just as a pair of glowing red eyes appeared within the silhouette and his words were abruptly stopped.


Jude would be able to sense a quick spike of fear from the far left flank, although the emotion ceased quickly replaced with serenity as if one of the troopers was scared by something briefly and quickly calmed. Should Jude look in that direction he would probably see nothing through the blizzard and the dust, whipping and dancing all around him on the wind. Although as the wind hissed and whooshed by he could probably swear he heard something like whispered incantation, maybe it was only the air rustling by.

Meanwhile, on the flank, the stormtrooper was forced down to the ground, the droid clutching his throat with one hand, the soldier's helmet was removed as he was forced to look into the droid's eyes silently, being given the same speech about trusting the machine. His gun laid in the snow nearby, its plasma and energy clip discarded, his commlink missing, the droid held his cloak in his free arm like a curtain to block off the sight of them from other troopers. Although the maneuver was done dangerously close, the droid hoped that his stealth mechanism and the weather would mask them.

"This is it, this is your only chance, you have been craving for this your whole life, trust me."

The machine whispered to the trooper as he tried to conduct the same hypnotic treatment as he gave to the rookie,

"You feel the need to abandon your weapons, form an arsenal of snowballs, and begun throwing them at your commander, aiming for his head. You will not stop until he throws one back at you and it hits you in the crotch, or until you hear me say 'Ropos walking in the street'"

The droid would release the trooper then, to see if the spell would take hold, if not then he had to knock the man out with a quick punch and then deal with the possibility of being discovered by the other soldiers.

If it did work, however, the machine would be back into wrapping the chameleon cloak around himself, and then, Jude's commlink would crackle with static before noise hissed out from the other side,

"What is your name, child?"

 

[Kaida Taldir]

Santaissa:
Enemies: [member="Isla Ashen"], [member="Kaalia Voldaren"], [member="Arlen Rossi"], [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: [member="Six-O"], [member="Ryan Korr"], [member="Kiyron"]


Light Side, Dark Side, these words meant very little to the Angelii. They drew their strength from discipline and a martial ethos, being warriors sworn to protect the Eldorai Matriarchy and smite its enemies. Sciia was both their word for the Force and their soul.


Kaida did not falter when fiery sparks danced across the Sith's eyes. She'd faced his kind before. Indeed, she was an associate of a certain Siobhan Kerrigan, whom Veles might remember from Contruum. Ironically, the Seraph and the Countess could not stand one another, but that's another story. Contempt filled her when the two Ren fled with their captive in tow. Her identity the Seraph did not know. She wasn't her focus.


The Sith Lord lashed out with his dark power, but two experienced Masters were not as easily ragdolled as Padawans might be. This produced split focus, and diminished gains. Abruptly, Kaida felt the pressure crunch down upon her throat as he sought to crush her windpipe. She could feel the grip tighten, choking her with a grip as strong as a vice as her lungs struggled to get oxygen.


But she did not yield. Rather than gasping for breath and clutching her throat, she clamped down upon the telekinetic hold, breaking it. As he tried to lift her, she broke the binds on her body and forced herself down. Her feet were anchored to the snow covered ground, refusing to yield to his desire to toss her like a ragdoll.


Beneath her helmet, her gaze was frigid. Her eyes were an icy, crystalline blue. The wind howled and snow continued to fall upon Santaissa's ruins. She focused, and power rippled from her. A telekinetic battering ram, an invisible hammer, swept across the roof with the intent of ramming one of his legs. Her free hand, the one not enclosed around a lightsabre's hilt, was used to channel her Sciia as she manipulated the ambient moisture in the air.


Her manipulation produced a small ice spear that manifested behind Veles, as if out of thin air. Due to her command of cryomancy and ballistakinesis, it had the speed and force of a hypervelocity projectile. The cryomancer tossed the superaccelerated spear at the back of the Sith's skull, aiming to pierce it.

 

[Lynn Nantaris]

Objective: Looking to help/Get involved
Allies: GA, Jedi, Them Good Guys
Enemies: First Order
Location: Ruins of Santaissa

Lynn was late, as usual. For a proper girl this seemed to be happening far too much lately. She stood aboard the recent batch of reinforcements waiting in the hanger for her to be able to join a transport and head for the ground.

Once her clearance came she hopped on a transport and in a friendly manner greeted the trooper. If she could see under the masks she would see they were giving her funny looks at her chipper attitude before war. The blast doors closed and off they went.

The First Order's blaster rounds and misses rocked their ship. The rocking was proceeded by entering the atmosphere violently. Her senses pinged a moment right before the ship was hit hard like the punch of a giant as a round hit them. She heard over the ship that their engine was struck and they were going down.

She gripped the ship and felt her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to save them from a fireyes death. The ship began gaining speed in its decent to the surface. She knew she did not have the power to stop the ship, but did she have enough power to protect the people. She could only try.

"Everyone, pilots, Hundle around me, hurry." As the troopers moved into her and the small transport continued its decent she closed her eyes, "please Force, save us." She prayed in hopes the Force would listen. She let the Force flow through her as she projected a barrier pushing more and more trying to cover everyone until. Boom!

The ship slammed into the ground skidding and bouncing across the ground until it was stopped by a pillar in the ruins. Lynn's body ached, but not from damage. That was above her pay grade and the use of the FORCE in that nature was unpleasantly hard. A few of the trooper received some injuries, but it was minor in compared to death. As they all climbed from the wreckage, Lynn calmed her racing heart and mind and let the Force soothed her. She was here to stop the First Order, she needed to be ready.

 

[Asmus Janes]

Location: Space, Near Orbit
Objective: Engage Capital Ships
Allies: [member="Kurt Meyer"] | [member="Roth Tillian"]
Enemies: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]


Asmus kept his line. He could see Womprat angle upwards and accelerate before vanishing from his sensors. He kept Rogue Squadron on course whilst the Knights came in from a higher angle of attack. His hands held perfectly steady on the controls, his eyes counted down the rangefinder to the enemy. He had flown with the Alliance since near its inception. First as a member of the Merchant Fleet on his uncle's freighter before joining the GADF. Five years of service, a handful of misdemeanours and a little bit of brilliance had eventually brought him here. Here as the leader of Rogue Squadron. Commander of an entire Wing.

“Now.”

He didn't shout, he did even joke or offer words of encouragement. He was focussed on the red dots on his screen. Several already marked by friendlies as TIE Defenders. Tough old birds that could take some punishment whilst still keep maneuvering.

Rogue Squadron broke formation and moved s-foils into attack position. Four faint signatures suddenly became eight, maneuvering faster than most of the X-Wings in the GADF fleet. Asmus turned aside then pushed reverse thrust through his port engines and gave a kick of lateral thrust to take himself outside the line of fire of the first Time to engage.

A sharp turn and he opened fire himself. He pushed through the gap and took some potshots at the rear of the Liberator’s tower before turning hard and engaging a Defender.

Bathed in the blue light of the Star Destroyer’s engines, battle was joined.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective: Kill Mao.
Location: Grindhouse of Dawn.
Troops: 33 Stormtroopers.

Rexus' face melded with the gauntlet, and the trooper winced and felt his cheekbone shatter. He felt underneath her punches, she was too busy concentrating on weight. He knew he couldn't last like this forever. Knew he needed to get on top. Rexus swung his arm around her head, and pulled it close to his breastplate, till her helmet made contact. Using all his strength and weight, Rexus rolled over, in order to reverse their previous rolls. "Let's see how you like this girlie!" He spat, blood spraying her helm. Kark it hurt to say that.

The stormtrooper engaging Hardock were knocked back by his use of the Force, and were initially dazed. But they knew better than to let any force user fire upon them. From four different angles now, Hardock was being fired on by two sonic rifle armed troopers, and two FD-11 soldiers, all coming from different angles. "Keep up the pressure boys, we have the bugger on the run!" A trooper snarled.

The destruction of one of the rotary guns saw some jubilation from the troopers. Which was quickly replaced with a need to take cover. "Artillery!" Twigg barked, "Get down!" he ordered, taking cover in a crater. Other troopers did the same, and were somewhat relieved that the trenches, where only a fraction of the troopers were stationed, had been the target of bombardment. Despite that, one group of three, sitting in cover near the trenches copped a full on close range blast of shrapnel, wounded the trio of them. Those in the trenches also recieved some injury, but the shrapnel was absorbed by the armour at a safe distance.

"Charge!" Twigg ordered, as the spider droids retreated, fifteen or so soldier opened up on the retreating droids, and then began focussing fire on the heavier droid that had caused so many problems for them.

[member="Mao"] | [member="HK-36"]

 

[Hansen]

FN-888 "Helden"
Kaeshana Southern Hemisphere, Humanitarian Camp.

With the Eldorai formed into lines and registering as refugees, Joan pivots in boots towards her two Stormtroopers. "Start a roving picket of the camp's laser fences, check for vulnerabilities and alert me to anything strange." A distressed voice fills the confines of helmet with a message. "Lieutenant Draken this is Foxhound-Alpha, we have medical supplies and trained personnel to treat your wounded, lock onto my IFF signature and bring the assault lander in." Joan takes several paces back to give the Assault Lander space to land inside the camp, eyes look back over to the white-suits. They'd secured the tarps of their tents, that is good given the amount of gust the dropship's ion engines is about to kick up.

[member="Pharazon Draken"]

 

[HK-36]

Character: Adventures of NPC Greycloak "Iron-Hide"
Location: Battle for the Citadel of the Dawn, Protecting Siobhan,
Objective: NPC Fight, survive the chaos
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"],
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"],
Forces: 1 Greycloak, clad in Protectorate Power Armor, 2x Electro-Cestus and chameleon cloaks, armed with Magnetic Revolvers, heavy Magnetic Repeater, generic blue-crystal lightsabers, and Spear of Rae.

After the much arduous fight and struggle that was facing Carnifex's Crownguards there finally came a moment of respite, something somewhat close to being called a triumph over the man that was once the Dark Lord. The machine stood there in the ruined field, his grey cloak burnt off by a previous arcane explosion, his armor singed and with numerous gashes that cut through his outer protective plates and into the body beneath, black droplets of oil or hydraulic fluid running down his legs. But he stood there, still active, still in fighting condition, clutching a magnetic revolver and the hilt of his burning blue lightsabers.

The droid looked around, the field was littered with numerous dead or incapacitated Sith and Eldorai, the Angelii and Crownsguards defeated in the battle, stormtroopers, Firemane soldiers, Eldorai resistance fighters who came to support the Tygaran Alliance who appeared on the ruined planet in order to stand against the First Order and the Sith. It was then that the machine realized that the fighting in his proximity somewhat died down, there were still some Angelii in fighting condition, those he managed to keep alive with his efforts, and of course there was him, but no Crownsguards to face them.

Perhaps the Sith acolytes were all laying on the ground, broken and defeated, perhaps those who still survived of them retreated to regroup and lick their wounds, the droid did not knew or care, what he knew was that fighting died down, and it was not because he or the Angelii gave up and forfeited.


Across the ruined landscape he saw Kerrigan and Carnifex face each other off still, the machine calculated to himself,

We need to end this. Calculate, HK, calculate, a cunning way to take down Kaine he would never expect.

The droid looked about the field, searching for solution until he finally found it.


Walking over a Crownsguard and Angelii entangled together in throngs of romantic passion, making out, they were two of those caught in the arcane blast that shattered their minds with vision of Otherworlds, although instead of letting violence run course of their action it was sexual passion and pent up erotic feeling that overtook them, or perhaps they were simply trying to literally eat each other's face off, one could never be sure, the machine picked up a burnt and slightly warped folded durasteel chair.

He swung the chair in the air a bit, feeling its heft,

Yes, this will do,

The machine calculated to himself,

He will never expect an attack from a chair.


And so the Greycloak begun to walk towards Siobhan and Carnifex across the calming battlefield, with a goal of battering Kaine from behind with a folded up chair like they were on some sort of futuristic version of wrestlemania. Whether he would reach them in time to do anything would be questionable as either someone could always just intercept him or the fight could be over, after all Siobhan was in a pretty good position!

 

[Luna Terrik]

Location: The Sky, Near the Citadel of Dawn
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: [member="Cale Gunderson"], the gunships.
Objective: Stay alive, protect the AT-AT's, and destroy the gunships with the objective of firing on the walkers.\


[SIZE=12pt]The first wave of First Order interceptors staffed the gunships, able to take down a single ship and severely damage another. Observing the ship that was severely damaged and smoking, the redhead pilot opened a channel to Knight five and six. “Listen up boys. The first ship in that convoy seems to be smoking greatly. I’ll target that one, and you two target the one behind it. Maybe we can take out two ships on this pass.” Setting her targeting computer to target the leading gunship, and her blasters to double rate of fire, her finger pulled taunt against the trigger, firing two of her blasters then the bottom two continuously. A large grin formed on her face as her lasers penetrated the already lowered shield of the gunship, destroying the engine, downing the ship. Looking to her right, the flight officer let out a ‘whoop’ of joy when the gunship exploded, taking its crew with it. More dead rebels meant more drinks back on the ship.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Good job guys. Let circle around, make another pass at them. The T-70’s know about us now, so expect more resistance next time around.” This seemed to be going exceptionally well. Three gunships already destroyed, with zero casualties. While the clouds must’ve covered their entry, Luna certainly didn’t expect the surprise to take the rebel pilots this off guard. Hopefully the next two strafing runs could take down a few more gunships. The more dead pilots and ships the rebel suffered would mean the AT-AT’s could make it to their objectives. This was all going so well, so when red lasers began to rain down on her group of fighters, damaging knight six to her left. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Break off! Delta maneuver! DS-01’s coming from our right.” Jerking her pilot stick downward, the ship dove forward while knight five and six broke off opposite of her. DS-01’s weren’t even supposed to be in this system! Why did they suddenly just now show up? Shaking these thoughts from her head, the redhead opened her comm as she watched her sensors as to not let a rebel ship drop down behind her. “Knights seven, eight, nine. My group is going to draw the B-Wings behind us. Drop down behind them and blow those pilots to kingdom come.” She closed the comm, taking deep breath. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Luna pulled back on her stick, pulling the fighter upward, until the B-Wings were within her view port. Pulling the trigger, she fired off a few shots to draw their attention, then suddenly pulled off, trying to draw their fire. The redhead set her defector shield to double back, as to hopefully deflect some lasers from the, hopefully, incoming B-Wings. [/SIZE]

 

[Zmej Ren]

Ruins of Santaissa
Allies: FO
Enemies: [member="Lynn Corerunner"]
Gear: Black Armour, baton, gun, green bladed lightsaber


The ruined city welcomed Zmej and the surrounding First Order forces with a chilly change in temperature. It soothed the disciple’s broken leg, working like a balm and positively robbing her of the power pain carried. Hobbling forward, pace getting slower due to fatigue and injuries catching up, the teenage Ren faced trouble keeping up with others. Snow covered the streets, further hampering her progress, the cold cover often turned into a greyish mush, sometimes sprayed red. Logic couldn’t wrap around the unnatural weather phenomena happening in Santaissa, prompting those who approached into focusing on the drama happening over their heads – an Alliance shuttle coming down in flames, destined to crash. Like a burning spear cutting through white canvas, it rapidly approached Kaeshana’s ground, ripping through the blizzard at deadly speed. All heads turned up, cheering loudly at the Alliance’s misfortune until the shuttle disappeared among the ruins.

Boom!

Hearing the audible thud, Zmej allowed a smile grace her expression, imagination running wild. Decided to check out the area for survivors, the young Ren pushed herself forward, hoping to find the mongrel dogs of the Alliance trapped in the oversized metal coffin, screaming in pain as they roasted alive. No such luck though – instead of deathly throes of agony, shaken, but calm voices came from the crashsite‘s direction. Worse still, the Force revealed a signature similar to that of the Jedi Zmej had just defeated, starkly contracting that of the dark side practitioners. This revelation flooded the disciple’s veins with a fresh batch of adrenaline, readying the wounded body for a second dance. Breath quickened, gloved fingers grasping the weapon’s hilt firmly as she mustered up enough courage for a punch into the wound. Screams and tears came immediately after, alongside a nasty warmth spreading from the injury. Pain turned into an ally once more, every stumble forth a new source of energy.

It hurt worse than before.

“Drop your weapons and surrender, invader!” Zmej Ren spat, voice trembling with pain and anger alike, and raised her fresh trophy’s emerald blade to shine through the thick, white haze rolling over the destroyed city’s streets.

Only the dark side’s might was keeping her in the game and Zmej realized it all too well. The next battle would heavily depend on the young Ren’s ability to draw from the Force, keeping the impure energies flowing – provided it came to that, but given the Alliance apparently wanted to throw lives into this giant meat grinder of a planet, Zmej doubted anyone would accept her offer. Fine by her. If they refused to be taken prisoners, she would take none.

“Refuse and you’ll be leaving Kaeshana in body bags.”

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

FIV CONTEMPT
CIC
KAESHANA SYSTEM
OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE ENEMY FORCES
ALLIES: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Aran Piett"]
ENEMIES: [member="Kyrana Gould"] | [member="Vilin"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Alexandra Morrow"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=RD3fnPwj1AMpo&v=3fnPwj1AMpo​

The arrival of the dropships and medical craft was unexpected, to say the least. One minute there was a general melee as both fleets approached short range and the next a swarm of shuttles and hospital ships showed up, throwing warnings all across the displays. Normally Cyrus would have given a swift order to ignore the alerts and continue firing, he cared nothing for the presence of non-combatants and civilians one way or another. Just more targets for the guns. But here, they offered a brief tactical reprieve.

"All ships, do not target enemy transports. Shift positions, but enemy medical units in the line of fire and hold."

It was a gamble really, but he had gotten too drawn in and needed the breathing room to re-orient the fleet. If the enemy was going to risk loading injured personnel in the middle of a battle it was all but certain they weren't about to shoot through them to score a few easy hits. So for a few brief minutes the fire slackened, neither side willing to risk tagging a transport and being the next galactic news headline. It was enough time, barely, to have the Contempt begin to reverse away from the GADF fleet. The Predator moved in and took up position just forward of the bow, to act as a physical shield if necessary. The rest of fleet maneuvered as much as possible to make themselves difficult targets.

They weren't totally unmolested, the Alliance strike craft waded in on the cruisers, but they found a thick net of First Order fighters in the way. It wasn't a perfect screen, there was no such thing after all, but it minimized damage to a great degree, with the most visible effects on the Victory-X cruisers with their limited AA armament. As the enemy attack waves faded, leaving behind shattered fragments of dozens of Alliance and First Order fighters, Cyrus used his last moments of reprieve to switch up the organization of his surviving strike craft.

And then the transports departed, and the onslaught began in earnest again. The cruisers continued to trade fire, and the smaller ships, battered and shaken on both sides, plinked away as best they could at targets of opportunity. But most of that was suppressive, the sort of constant moderate barrage more designed to prevent shields from recharging and keep the pressure on rather than any serious damage. It worked well enough, but did little critical harm. The real threat would be the Trimaran and enemy battlecruiser, and Cyrus was all but certain that the Vanguard and Contempt were going to be the main targets.

***

FIV Predator
Admiral Isano Sekerian, Commanding

The old man was being punished, that was for sure. The kaleesh Admiral, leaning leisurely back on the command chair on the Predator was dividing his attention between three things. The first was the battle itself on, centered prominently on the large central holo-display. He understood the gist of what the old man was trying to do, but the execution had been sloppy. Getting too slow, perhaps? Maybe it was time to shake up the chain of command, Grand Admiral Sekerian had a nice ring to it, after all. But that would make the second object of his attention, a young nubile Rodian ensign for whom he had specifically arranged assignment to CIC, even more difficult to attain.

The third thing was the battlecruiser looming in the forward display, that was about to pummel his ship and the Contempt with all it was worth. But what proved even more surprising was when the Trimaran, which had an all but certain kill sitting in front of it, shifted nearly all its firepower towards the Predator as well.

So perhaps the old man wasn't going daft after all, if he'd been able to read things on the field clearly enough to know when to commit the Predator. As he watched, the volley of missiles from Trimaran streaked across empty space into a wall of laser fire from the Vanguard. Ten missiles made it past the hail of fire and slammed into the particle shields. Four blew past those and impacted, and Sekerian could see the fireballs clearly from his display. But as the explosions dissipated the ship remained, under power, and withdrawing into relative safety for now.

'Enemy capital ship firing, all hands brace for impact!'

***

FIV Vanguard
Captain Karlo vai Zharingen, Commanding

Commander Tyvia Raio, Executive Officer of the Vanguard, had no clue where the captain was, what he was doing, or even if he was still alive. All she knew right now was that for some unknown reason, she and her ship were still alive. The Command Bridge was ruined, holed by bombing runs, now barely fit to be the tomb it was for all the command crew that hadn't made it out on time. She'd watched Captain vai Zharingen walk calmly through the reinforced blastdoors, turn, and seal them even as he stared into the face of crew still scrambling to make it. It was the right thing to do, of course, you couldn't risk senior command staff for the lives of a few dozen junior officers and ratings, but it still sent a shiver down her spine. Then he'd turned, informed her that he was relocating to Battle Two, and recommended she make her way to the auxiliary command center outside the main reactor compartment.

Then the warheads had hit, and after having to backtrack their way around fires or debris or passageways full of wounded and half dead spacers being tended to by a handful of desperate medics, she'd made it with maybe twenty command staff to the tertiary command center, empty except for a pair of enlisted spacers who'd probably run there to hide. It hadn't taken long to get things up and running, and even more quickly after that to figure out first, that the Captain was missing. Second, that Battle Two was gone, all but pulverized earlier in the battle. Third, that she was in command, and that she had a chance in hell right now to save the ship.

The first step was to shift power away from weapon systems almost entirely, excepting defensive batteries. There would be a time for offense later, but it wasn't when you didn't even have solid internal comms. Priority went to shields and internal fire-suppression systems, only to run into the problem that the entire aft of the ship was almost totally cut off from the entire front of the ship, both physically (by fires and holed spaces) and verbally (comms lines were cut). But First Order spacers were well trained to operate independent of orders, and as their weapon emplacements went offline they would likely already be organizing into repair teams. The next step was to restore comms and basic internal functionality. Aux Command had a hardwire link to both Central Control (primary engineering control space) and Main Reactor. As a result there was good awareness of where the main damage control parties were, and Commander Raio could both track their progress and vent spaces in front of them to clear fires.

Hull breaches were more difficult to get around. While the Flying Squad and other dedicated repair teams had vac suits those groups had been deployed at the start of the battle and most were either out of comms (whether dead, wounded, or simply cut off it was impossible to know) or totally occupied combating a major conflagration or trying to shore up a key compartment. Secondary teams therefore either had to go around or, if the shields were coherent enough to keep atmosphere in, set up hull patches. The former took a lot of time, the latter took resources that were in short supply.

But it worked, slowly but surely. Hardlines were laid to secondary control stations, and bit by bit and section by section Raio was able to piece together just what the state of the ship and her crew was. The news was grim, but not half as bad as she'd expected. Around 35% casualties to personnel, but officers acting on their own authority had jury-rigged droids and drafted troop complements to assist where necessary, so although the manpower situation was far from good it was manageable. If they survived this, it would make a great space-story to drive home the point that 'the First Order Navy does not need robots.' Droids notwithstanding.

The next step was the most difficult. Parts of the ship, cut off from comms and any sort of command organization, were either totally atmosphere deprived, or totally overrun by out of control fires. In both cases you couldn't simply just vent and access, for a variety of reasons. You might have survivors in isolated compartments no longer showing up on ship readouts, and venting would certainly kill them. Then you might have sections with ventilation non-functional, so any venting would mean the whole area would stay a vacuum. And then there was always the risk of flashover as you let oxygen into a vented space.

Rescue and Assistance crews were forced to move slowly and carefully, one space at a time. Using everything from handheld lifeform scanners to the old 'tap on the bulkhead method' to identify survivors, they fought blazes where necessary to get people out and get key equipment back online, but at this point even water reserves (a last resort firefighting technique) were a finite resource. Up forward, where four of the eleven out of control 'mass conflagrations' had nearly joined, a group of army personnel came up with the idea to use the semi-environmentally sealed armor as FFE. The idea spread rapidly, and the armories were quickly emptied of all spare suits to use to combat the blaze.

All through this Commander Raio watched the progress of the battle. Aux Command had a limited number of combat displays, but they were enough. The Predator took the brunt of the assault, a massive barrage of energy and projectiles, some targeted at the Contempt, some at the Wyyrlok itself, momentarily turned its hardened prow and heavy shields into a blossoming new star. It wasn't large enough to catch every thing thrown at it, and some rounds missed entirely and some that missed it hit their intended target instead. But the Iron Duke appeared to have made the best of his momentary reprieve, shifting all shields to forward and depending on the anti-missile system to protect his flanks from strike craft and arcing ordnance. It wasn't a perfect defense, but as the smoke and fire faded both ships were still operational.

***

FIV Contempt
Grand Admiral Cyrus Tregessar, Battlegroup Fury
Commodore Yedija Vayyrel, Commanding

The Predator had been injured, and badly, but it was a but a wounded beast, enraged and revitalized, it could still fight. More importantly, in taking the brunt of the enemy assault it had saved the Contempt. For now. It hadn't escaped totally unscathed, but the crew of Cyrus' flagship was developed around a core of former One Sith spacers who had served with him now for nearly a decade. On the first Contempt, a Dark Blade, they had been practically an elite force, acting practically as one body. Here they were only the nucleus of a much larger organism, but it still helped. With the skill of the officers in charge running the damage control parties and repair teams, the current estimate had the battlecruiser sitting at a solid 75% combat effectiveness. They were down two of the 74's (and another one was shooting irregularly), and one of the BFIC's, and maybe 60 turrets. The former taken out by internal damage disrupting rail networks or from hits to the large casings, but most of the latter were destroyed as a result of the weaker outer hull being blown away.

But the ship was at least partially designed for that, and the core superstructure held much of the key weaponry, including the forty Helliod missile launchers (now converted to fire assault-size warheads) and the advanced mass drivers. The Predator was in a similar position, somewhat worse off for having just received a tremendous amount of damage all at once. But together the two ships still packed an awesome amount of firepower, and they turned their guns on the Excubitor and let loose. Six of the massive, rapid fire Mark 74's and three of the shield stripping Binary Fusion Ion Cannons, almost 60 assault-scale warheads from the Helliods and Advanced Mass Drivers, plus another 60 from the regular-sized launchers on the Predator, and finally a torrent of energy in quads, heavies, and long range turrets, the equivalent firepower of over 1600 turbolasers poured onto the enemy battlecruiser.

Elsewhere the fight continued as well. The Scylla weathered the attack from the fleet carrier with some damage but stayed operational. Following the example of the Vanguard, her captain focused more on repairing what damage he could and put up only desultory suppresive fire on the Hero of Coruscant and the Inysh. The last Dagger-class, rather than trading fire with its frigate opponents, had fallen back to where it could both rest in the wings of the two Vindicator Light Carriers and also provide escort services for them. The Light Carriers had been busy landing, rearming, and relaunching the whole battlegroups squadrons, and now relatively unscathed they dared to push forward a little to get into the fight.

Cyrus' orders at this point would seem clear as day to all observing. All three surviving cruisers (though VD-2 appeared to breaking apart even as it fired) shifted their fire to the Excubitor, adding their guns and cannons and devestating baradium warheads to the barrage. At the same time the First Order fighters, previously drawn back into a screen, pushed out and hit their Alliance counterparts in direct interception strike. As they fought to tear a hole open, Star Wing II's punched through, the three remaining corvettes close behind (another Corsair had broken up beforehand) and began attacks runs on the more vulnerable underside, flanks, large turrets, and shield towers. Where Alliance fighters and bombers came to intercept, every third Star Wing would break off and switch to a support role, utilizing their extensive missile magazine in the anti-strike craft role it also excelled in.

It was a suicide run for the corvettes (and probably the last Stormcloud, which shifted shields rear and forward but otherwise ignored the enemy cruiser), but that was the risk you faced taking an early command under the bloody hand of the Iron Duke. His objective was clear, the body count to get there was irrelevant now.

Spoiler

1 x Darr Itah – (Contempt, heavy damage)
1 x Wyyrlok – (Predator, heavy damage)
1 x IDX – (Vanguard, heavy damage) (Relentless Crippled)
1 x Executrix-class (Scylla, heavy damage)
1 x Victory-X (VD1 moderate damage, assume VD2 has ceased all offensive activity by your post)
2 x Vindicator Carrier – (Carrier 1 and Carrier 2, light damage)
1 x Dagger Frigate – (FF1, 2, 4) (3 Crippled, 2 and 4 destroyed, 1 light damage)
1 x Stormcloud Assault Cruiser – (CG 1 destroyed, CG 2 with moderate damage)
2 x Corsair Gunships –(Raider, Bandit, Buccaneer, Brigand, Buc, Bandit destroyed, 2 with moderate damage)
1 x Charger Corvettes (Charge 1 and Charge 2, 1 destroyed, 2 with damage)

33 Squadrons - LESS NOW
7 'Elite' Squadrons [x] [x]
16 Fighter Squadrons [x] [x]
10 Bomber Squadrons [x]

Non-combat ships

1 x Shadow-class corvette
4 x FIPV-9 Keraunos
some transports and auxiliaries and stuff that was intended to resupply the 'Exclusion Zone' and are now doing whatever the hell merchant marine do when caught in unexpected HUGE FIREFIGHTS

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Post #: 13[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Location: Southern Hemisphere Humanitarian Camp[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Objective: Medical Treatment[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Allies: First Order and Friends, [member="Aermoira Cyone"] | [member="FN-888"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Enemies: Galactic Alliance and Friends, none directly involved.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Forces: 26 Stormtroopers (27 incl Pharazon). [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Equipment: Standard Stormtrooper Equipment.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The ramp of the assault lander was quickly covered in rapidly moving Stormtroopers frantically moving their most injured comrades toward the medical staff and other First Order personal there to receive them. Not a single trooper’s armour was white anymore, now all were coloured some horrific mixture of browns, reds, and greys from the mud, blood, and ruin material that absolutely coated the soldiers. Their armour itself was also damaged to in some instances great degrees, slugs had dented or embedded themselves in the armour, it had been cut and slashed, and blasters had scored great marks on the armour of many. Many more had blaster wounds and holes burned straight into their flesh through the armour. The deck of the troop bay in the lander was now slick with blood as the troopers rushed out and down the ramp and then returned to ferry more of the wounded. The three who had the most serious wounds such as Sandalphon were immediately rushed down, while others moved themselves or only needed a hand up in standing or a shoulder to lean on.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]When it came to moving Lieutenant Pharazon, however, it took three troopers including the great Sergeant Hydros to carry the massive man down the ramp. Blood streamed from his now once again torn open wounds. His lower left abdominal blaster and blade puncture was sending blood streaming down his left side, dripping from his body and onto the dirt in great droplets. The blaster wound to the side of his upper right chest was a terrible burned gouge and it too was bleeding, the cauterised flesh having been cracked during their evacuation run. His now three fingered left hand lolled listlessly, his ring and little fingers having been vaporised and reduced to less than small stumps. His upper right leg armour joint was ripped and blood was pooling within his body suit and spilling out. All the while his right eye and the large cut beneath it were exposed, staring blankly from the savage gash in the right eyepiece are of his helmet. The three men gingerly carrying him slowly descended the ramp and moved out onto the ground, meanwhile Sergeant Cain strode from the lander.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He keyed his helmet systems with the codes to assume command of the platoon while Pharazon was incapacitated and began directing the movements of his men and the prioritisation process for who was to be treated first. He also needed to respond with command authority to Foxhound-Alpha.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Foxhound-Alpha, this is Grenadier Four, I am Platoon Sergeant Cain and I have assumed command until Lieutenant Draken regains consciousness” Cain began, keeping his voice firm and authoritative, he needed to live up to Pharazon’s example.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I feel required to ensure that his medical needs are met immediately, even though we have more wounded troopers this man is the only reason any of us are still alive right now so I cannot allow him to die, he has numerous blaster burns, bruising from slugs, numerous lacerations to multiple parts of his body, he appears to be missing two of his fingers and I suspect he has numerous internal injuries as well” the words all but spewed from Cain’s mouth as he tried to accurately describe the state of his commander.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“We also have three critically wounded troopers who also need care immediately, one likely needs immediate surgery on what is left of his leg to stop him from bleeding out, and the other two have serious facial and or neck injuries” he continued.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“However, almost all of our troopers are wounded in some capacity so we need absolutely everything you can spare ma’am” he finished, sighing out the last few words.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Also, if you had any food, we would very much appreciate if you had any food or snacks right about now" he said finally, trying to inflect at least a small amount of gratitude and humour in his words. If his men believed he could still find humour it might give them some small hope and raise the ember of their spirits just a little higher. If Cain had to lie to do that, so be it.[/SIZE]

 

[Kuzo]

Kaeshana
​South of Santaissa
Allies: FO
​Enemies: Creators of the Force Storm
[member="Vexen"] [member="Micah Talith"]

To be honest, it wasn't easy to focus on social niceties with a concussion and broken ribs. But Irajah managed a strained smile at Vexen anyway.

"Well, things were.... on fire and getting ready to- explode. So, forgiven. If we're weighing out growling *wince* versus keeping me from becoming..... a mess all over some innocent trees, well, there's not even anything *flinch* to forgive."

Normally, Irajah would be asking where they were going, what was happening. But her head was fuzzy, the pain was overbearing- huddled against Micah's chest, she could even begin to care what was ahead, so long as she could rest.

 

[Kenth Typho]

Location: Dawn
Objective: Aid In The Conquest
Allies: [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Djacen Koyne"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"] | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] | [member="Canal"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Audren Sykes"] | [member="Mao"] | [member="Tempest"]

Enemies: [member="Rolf Amsel"]

--

The battlefield was a living and breathing thing.

Locke didn't have to be a forcer to know it to be true. It lived and warped according to what was happening. Picture the lines of the GA in the trenches, holding firm, but bending in certain ways when the pressure by the First Order was ramped up a notch. It coalesced and shifted, before affirming itself into a new position, one that was more natural and effective against the threat.

Omega Pyre troopers held their ground with Hardock backing them up.

Wasn't Locke's show, though, he wasn't a commander. Didn't know tactics and wouldn't even attempt to tell those soldiers what to do. All he had was himself, a rifle and armor that protected him. He wasn't a super-soldier, so he had to pick his targets wisely. From elevated ground he saw the First Order officer being blown away into the trenches.

Then he saw him stand up.

Tough son-of-a-mudlarker.

Wasn't much else to do there. Pyre specialists were waiting for his signal and Elliot saw the chance right when the officer was passing a blaster to someone, too obscured to make out the details.

"Now." The Pyre troopers would rush in, colliding against the storm troopers. Locke himself used his jet boots to launch himself from the overlooking hill and towards the officer, his rifle roaring in indignation and rage, targeting Amsel's center. Surprise would be at his side, considering he was attacking from the other direction than the Pyre specialists.

 

[BE-183]

Shadows​

Post: 12
Location: Citadel of dawn - Around the trenches / North approach
Objective: Soldier on / Camp the north
Status: Rifle gone, pistol fallen, knife dropped (unarmed); shoulder pad and chestplate cracked, cut hand / 6th platoon offscreen
Allies: [member="Samka Derith"] + First Order
Enemies: [member=Dish] + Galactic Alliance

It wasn't possible to reverse the roles. "Someone like you is never unarmed... but lawful combatants, though... if they surrender, protocol is to capture them. We're not savages... we sure don't attack humanitarian personnel." That last sentence was particularly corrosive.

He hadn't finished the fight yet, in fact the tables had turned. Bee could practically feel the wave of scorn tearing out of that banshee scream. She was glad the soldier was right in front of her when it hit, even then she felt shockwaves whipping at the air.

Hell, it was that Ren. That was one knight she would have to buy a drink later. Bee pulled up her comlink and hissed down the mic, "He's tough, but a bolt to the gut punched through." As armours had to be, it wasn't plate all over.

He was trying to keep track of them both at once, no sneak attacks. The only remaining refuge was in audacity. Launching at the supersoldier, the stormtrooper hurled her weight into a tackle towards his leg intended to bring him down to the ground. She meant to present opportunity to the Ren.

 

[Lynn Nantaris]

Location: Ruins of Santaissa
Allies: Jedi and friends
Enemies: [member="Zmej Ren"]
Post: 2

She busied herself after the crash tending to her men's wounds even though they insisted they were fine. Her previous assumption that they came out unharmed was wrong as two of them had died in the crash. This saddened Lynn, but she fought hard to not let it take hold of her.

As she patched wounds her senses pinged with the Dark Side as she turned and saw a wounded trooper and a squad behind her staring at her. She could see by the female trooper's eyes that she was a Sith. This worried Lynn over her men. As the Sith spoke threats to her, Lynn whispered to her men, "Order 17."

The area around the troopers and Lynn popped as multiple smoke grenades erupted and covered them in a very thick smoke. The troopers used the smoke to retreat from the area to rejoin the main army. Lynn remained, in the thick of smoke to combat the Sith. She drew her lightsaber previously belonging to Mace Windup, but did not ignite the blade.

"You are hurt, please let me help you. You are in no shape to fight, clearly you know it would be suicide and as a Sith preserving your own life is priority one." She smiled a sincere smile, clearly she was serious on wanting to help. Enemy or not, the girl before her was a person that needed help.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

Location: The Sky
Objective: Destroy Walkers Kill TIE/Ln's
Enemies: The FO, [member="Luna Terrik"]
Allies: The GA, Amber Squadron, Cyan Squadron wherever they are

Over the years Cale had honed his skills at many things, many not his choice, but he'd become good at them nonetheless. One such skill was discovering what he truly was; a hunter, and as a hunter he knew how to pick his prey. Knight 6 had suffered a hit and when Luna and her wingmen banked to draw them away, 6 dragged behind. Jerking the controls side to side he evaded Terrik's blasts and as the struggling interceptor tried to keep pace with her and Knight 5, Cale squeezed the trigger, blasts hammering directly at the center of the angular fighter.

Terrik's maneuver was textbook, draw away the enemy so the rest of your squadron could pounce on their tails. "Amber 4, Amber 9 break off and go for the main group I'll mop up these two stragglers." Amber 2 ordered over their COM. Cale shook his head, she was getting cocky, she was going to get herself fething killed.


"Amber 2 I wouldn't recommend they're trying to draw us aw-"

"I know what they're doing, its two TIEs I cand handle it, keep the rest of the flight busy until Cyan gets here."

"Bu-"

"Now!" Snapped the pilot, leaving Cale to exhale forcefully and bank off with Amber 9 after Knight 7, 8, and 9. Now the odds were two on one with heavy strike fighters dogfighting interceptors, it wasn't the soundest plan, but Cale or rather Cassian's words meant little if nothing to his superiors right now. Lining up shots at the racing interceptors Cale and Amber 9 opened fire, hoping to down the interceptors before they swung down behind Amber 2 and annihilated the pilot. He squeezed the trigger tightly, all too aware of the odds the interceptors would outpace them and down Amber 2.

 

[Zmej Ren]

Ruins of Santaissa
Allies: FO
Enemies: [member="Lynn Corerunner"]
Gear: Lightsaber, black armour, baton, gun


Part of her wanted them to surrender – prisoners could be traded for captured First Order troops, probably the sole reason Zmej’s burning passion could be leashed from slaughtering the enemy and teaching them the harshest of lessons. Taking the smoke screen as a rejection of her offer, Zmej Ren did not hesitate any further, about to reveal why attacking the First Order was a terrible idea. Pointing the blade’s tip at the enemy position, the young disciple frowned and spoke two fateful words, eagerly awaited by the surrounding soldiers as the final approval of their intended action.

“Open fire.”

Red blaster bolts ripped into the wall of smoke, shooting the retreating force in the back, a price to pay for following their short-sighted leadership. Only one silhouette amidst the ruins and smoke was not targeted, none other than the Jedi. This honour was reserved for the Ren, who truly did not care if she had to crush two or two thousand Jedi for the Galactic Alliance to understand their mistake. With difficulties, but not stopping once, she dragged herself closer to the Force sensitive soon to be opponent, every motion opening an entirely new world of suffering and agony, and she was grateful for every moment. Pain meant she lived still, giving her the strength to continue and tap into the infinite reservoirs of faithless energy reeking of the dark side. That wasn’t a problem, unlike standing.

The Ren stopped before reaching her enemy, free hand outstretched to try and rob the Jedi of her lightsaber, one last chance to disarm the Jedi before fully committing to violence and ending this confrontation like the one before.

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: Citadel of Dawn, Northern Trenches​

Objective: Protect First Order troops​

Allies: [member="BE-183"]​

Enemies: [member="Dish"]​

​

At the last moment and hulking soldier avoided the blow, mostly. The element of surprise apparently stripped from her once it was clear her target would dodge the downwards impalement, it didn't take much to flick the sideways and slash her foe. The moment after landing, the teenager, assisted with the Force back-flipped away to put distance back between her and Dish.

Brushing her lavender hair from her eyes with one hand and holding her lightsaber pointed at the enemy with the other, Sam quickly inspected the damage she'd done. Very little it seemed from either the Force Scream or the saber. She should have noticed it before but this... thing shouldn't exist. The Force flowed through all living things, detectable in some minor form in every human, alien, animal and plant. Even rocks, metals, hills and water could be detected with the Force as a sort of obstacle one could feel in the way. But this... The Force wasn't just not there, it was dead. A void where the Force offered no feedback. She'd encountered this before on a droid but to find it on an apparently living being was all the more disgusting. A perversion of life itself. Something to be exterminated. In addition it seemed her blade had barely scratched his armour. Immune to the Force and armour made to resist a lightsaber? He probably thought himself untouchable but she knew better. There was always a way through.

She waited there for a moment, perfect posture, legs apart and holding her blade near arms length, the positioning of a long term fencer. Dish made the first move, pulling a blade from his shoulder and attempting to strike at her hand. She pulled back in response but let the vibroblade connect with her lightsaber. Unless it was more of his special kit, it would be sliced in two at contact but either way, she pulled back and disengaged again. She had another plan.

The soldier may be dead to the Force but his armour? That was not. A smirk crossed Samka's face as she extended her palm towards the soldier then clenched her fist. A Force Crush focused on the most sensitive parts of the armour, joints and the neck area. Under the intense pressure, they'd cave in on themselves before long, and if they did they would be digging into the man's flesh and turning his own strength into weakness. On the words of the Stormtrooper, she focused especially hard in crushing the armour around the gut.

Playtime.​