Dominion Embraced by Darkness | GA Dominion of N'zoth and Thrantin

[Saga of Valour]

P R E A M B L E
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Dark forces conspired in the shadows. They sought to prey upon the divided attentions of the Galactic Alliance, as well as the Jedi that served them. While the Senate focused on the events transpiring to the Galactic South, these Shadowy figures began moving to the West. Their power and influence began to spread from one community to another until an entire star system was ensnared within their insidious grasp. Through whispers and the sprouted seedlings of infectious ideas, the Yevetha believed that their time had come, once more. They were pushed to the verge of extinction by the extragalactic invaders, known as the Yuuzhan Vong, during their War against the Galaxy entire. ​

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It was believed that they wouldn’t survive the trials and hardships ahead. That their xenophobic civilization and death-centric culture would fade away into the annals of time. However, through means unknown to the Galaxy at large, the Yevetha defied the odds. Their seedlings, forged by conquest and colonization, were relatively untouched by the intergalactic fires of war. Their populations thrived, and through the curiosity of youth, this new generation returned to their ancestral breeding grounds after centuries in the shadows.​

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They took root within their ancestral homes and rebuilt their estranged culture from the newly uncovered echoes of the past. Once the connection was reforged, and their society altered for the betterment of their species - they began to look outwards with hungry eyes. Their ancestors once made war against the Galactic Empire and the New Republic that followed, because it was believed they were nothing but vermin that needed to be exterminated. Such sentiments were shared by this new generation, albeit with some changes brought about by the information garnered regarding the state of the Galaxy at present.​

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Nevertheless, the Yevetha lighted their ancestral forges and began rebuilding their ancient war machines - all-the-while remaining relatively undisturbed. ​

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However, a fatal mistake was made. In gathering intelligence on the Galaxy at large, the Galantos Guard caught wind of the Yevethan Restoration. The Fian reconnaissance vessels bore witness to dozens of battleships orbiting the ancient homeworld of N’zoth, readying themselves for war. After their vessels were detected, only one managed to escape with their lives as swarms of Trifoil Fighters gunned down the unarmed scout-ships. Infuriated by the deaths of their comrades, but unwilling to go against their peaceful nature, the Fian elected to retaliate through diplomacy. Surely, the destruction of their scout-ships was an honest mistake that could be easily remedied.​

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To no-one’s surprise, the diplomatic approach failed. The Fian Delegation was ruthlessly butchered long before the talks could even begin, whilst the Yevethan Black Fleet began to spread throughout the Koornacht Cluster. That was when the Fian Government turned to the neighbouring Galactic Alliance, petitioning them to send in their armed forces to intervene by destroying the fledgling Yevethan war machine before it had a chance to spread throughout the surrounding stars. Eager to claim the remaining neutral systems of the Core Regions, the Alliance agreed to assist their new and would-be allies - in return for the entirety of their Cluster joining their nascent Federation.​

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Thus, elements of the Defence Force sallied forth into the fray. Only, they didn’t run into just the Yevethans and their Navy as they entered the Koornacht Cluster. In their quest to exterminate the vermin that populated the stars, the Black Fleet had awoken a race of slumbering creatures that traversed through the stars. Once, long ago, these creatures were rightly feared by all that traversed across the solar tides. With their incorporeal forms and desiccated humanoid visage - these creatures struck fear into the hearts and minds of all who dared gaze upon their terrifying majesty. For reasons unknown, they hated those who were sensitive enough to hear the unspoken Will of the Force. It was through this hatred of Force-wielders, that the Ancestors believed these creatures to be demons - summoned forth from realms unknown to prey upon the Jedi and their allies.​

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And so, the Starweirds and their Queen have returned - seeking vengeance for ancient wrongs and to bathe the entirety of the Koornacht Sector in the blood of all who dare trespass amongst their stars.​

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE(S):

• Stop the Yevethan Aggression: Several Systems within the Koornacht Cluster have been invaded by the Yevetha, who are obsessed with death and their beliefs of genetic superiority. While elements of the Defence Force seek to liberate these worlds from the resurgent denizens of N’zoth, an Assault Force was cobbled together to strike at the very heartland of their enemy. Disable their Shipyards, and Destroy what remains of the Black Fleet. Bring the Koornacht Cluster back into an Era of Peace and Prosperity.
• Regicide: Dozens of Starships, belonging to both the Yevethan Black Fleet and to the Alliance themselves have gone dark. Their recovered logs indicate that creatures once thought extinct, stalked the spinal corridors of their vessels - tearing apart any that stood in their path, or driving those that survived to the brink of insanity. Save who you can. Hunt down these creatures, and know no fear. Put an end to this Queen’s reign of terror.

SECONDARY OBJECTIVE(S):

• Darkness on Thrantin: Renowned across the Stars for producing some of the Best Scouts ever seen, the Galactic Outdoor Survival School has long since closed its doors to the Galaxy at large. Throughout the centuries that passed since its establishment, everything that had been taught was passed on to others, making the facility - and by extension the planet itself - no longer useful, having fulfilled its primary purpose. However, as the Alliance slowly moved into the Koornacht cluster to deal with the Yevetha, a deep-space distress call emanated from the now-overgrown surface of Thrantin. Dispatching the closest and most available ships, the Alliance seeks to divine the source of this beacon and render aid to any and all that could be found.

Spoiler

Turns out the various biomes that dotted Thrantin’s surface weren’t conducive to long term sustainability, especially when the Yuuzhan Vong invaded the galaxy. So, now the planet has turned into a giant, overgrown nest of Grutchins - pesky buggers that eat through starships and kill the crew. If you haven’t guessed it by now, that’s the exact same fate that befell the Starship that activated their distress beacon. But, are their survivors? Who, but you can say?

TERTIARY OBJECTIVE(S):

• Your Story: Don’t like the three previous story-hooks, but still want to participate? Forge your own path within the overarching story and have fun with the Alliance's Sppoky-themed Dominion.

:// Additional Reference Material //:

• N’zoth and the Yevetha.
  • Major Cities:
    • Giat Nor, the Planetary Capital.
    • Hariz.
  • Points of Interest:
    • Valley of Rejection.
      • Reject Alley.
      • Werstilhere.
    • Orbital Shipyards.
• Yevethan Black Fleet:
  • Aramadia-Class Thrustship.
  • D-type Trifoil Fighter.
    • Gravity Bombs.
• Thrantin.
  • Galactic Outdoor Survival School.

 

[Olen Halcorr]

"We are the Phantoms that strike from the darkness."
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Objective I - Beat the Yevetha
N'zoth Orbital Shipyards, Koornacht Cluster
ALLIES: Phantom Squadron: Voldran Molf Daz Farlander Aeson Keel Westenra Mina Cynthia Alucard
Vanguard Squadron: Alex Locke Taysonyl Callenid Qell Auraeli
Saber Squadron: Loske Treicolt Leon Gallo Maynard Treicolt Caldon Tenneth
+ Other Fleeters

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"Let's make this one count, everyone." He announced through the com unit which should have been received by all units currently in the heat of battle near the N'Zoth Orbital Shipyards.

A hastily assembled battlegroup, they'd been selected to combat increasing aggression within the Koornacht Cluster. Growing up as a child on Lysatra, he'd heard bedtime stories of the infamous Black Fleet. It was almost humbling to be fighting the real thing as an adult.

Around twelve klicks away from his position, the vast metallic ring of the shipyard seemed to almost bar them from their objective. However, they had to get through the countless waves of Yevethan D-type trifoil fighters which seemed relentless in their attack. Racing past him, he perceived X-Wings, E-Wings, B-Wings, A-Wings and Y-Wings of the various other Alliance squadrons who'd been sent to fight the Black Fleet. The Jedi of Saber Squadron being the most notable of his own memory.

Countless red blips flashed on his sensors, alerting him to the presence of the grey ships which were fast approaching. Diverting power to his primary throttle, he switched to fixed fire on his laser cannons and racked up the throttle to 80 percent, propelling the X-Wing forward with a prominent lurch.

"Watch it, squad at point seven three."

Knowing that they had been spotted, the Yevethan fighters split up, temporarily moving out of their tight formation. Pulling off into a wide bank, he decided he was going to play the game, going on a hot pursuit of the lead fighter. Spinning semi-erratically, the enemy, dipped away, Olen almost missed his mark as the enemy pilot seemed to have a good grasp of GA tactics.

"Interesting..." He articulated, Olen seemed very surprised at excellent manoeuvrability of the enemy ships and attempted to think up a way to counter that.

Cutting back inside, he managed to hang onto the tail of the fighter, blasting four darts from his linked laser cannons at it's rear. To his expectation, he blasted straight into it's rear thrusters, causing an implosion, which he cut through, debris bouncing straight off his shields. The others seemed to have regrouped which would cause problems for him later. He went into a rapid tailspin, nudging the stick into a snap roll as green laser cannons fire was now evaporating on the shields of his starboard side.

Around him, his squadron mates were faring somewhat better as Phantom Twelve, blasted through the rubble of a fighter, attempting to come and assist Olen. "Good shot Twelve! Keep your eyes peeled, target at point three."

Gunning the throttle even more, he pulled the joystick back around, completing a dropkick turn which should have hopefully thrown them off balance enough that he and Twelve could pick them off one by one. The blonde pilot gritted his teeth just as he swerved out the way of more fire from fresh ships that had come to join the fray. Olen cut to the left, moving into position for intercept as he let of a spray of blaster rounds at his targets. He went for the nearest one to his port side, moving into position well enough to gain a lock. The HUD on his panel soon went crimson as he vaped the fighter, kicking the X-Wing up and into s long arc around the zone.

"Where the hell are these new guys coming from?" Came the booming voice from Phantom Twelve once more as the rest of the squadron seemed to be pretty preoccupied. "Eleven ( Voldran Molf ) and Eight ( Cynthia Alucard ), pull in, help out Twelve and Ten." He ordered, staring out of his viewport into the distance. The round spherical Aramadia-class Thrustships had moved from their previous positions to a more offensive movement, deploying more trifoil fighters from their hangars. Olen pondered for a moment, weighing up his options. Despite the disadvantage, there was luck to be had, they had the opportunity to exploit a hole which would allow them to reach and disable the shipyards.

"Phantom Leader to Vanguard Squadron and Saber Leader, those Thrustships are on the move again, might wanna keep on eye, we'll need an opening to get to the shipyards." He notified on the main Alliance channel that would link him to the rest of the GA forces. He just needed to hope that he'd still be alive long enough to relay more info on his suspicions.

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Vanguard | Qell Auraeli Alex Locke Frea Sheplin | Olen Halcorr

Action.
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This was it. It was real. The sweat already sticking in her helmet, the stick in her hands, the stars against the backdrop of the void. She eased the throttle, following Vanguard Leader and Vanguard 2 into a slow roll over the side of the ship they'd just launched from.

This was what she'd signed up for. No one was there to see the grin spreading across her face. Even as the terror set in, the adrenaline flushed into her body; her heart beat faster every second. Not long ago she'd crashed a ship just like this one on a training course. Today, her ship was equipped with enough firepower to rip through the whole Academy. Was she ready?

Time to find out.

The Alliance starfighters broke into a wide screen, intercepting the Yevethan trifoils and pulling them into dogfights near the sides of the battle. The initial salvo was deadly; the heavy laser cannons and warheads shredded enemy interceptors. But as the gritty close-combat began it was clear how much more agile the D-type was. It was like racing against Sheplin in the Undercity again -- she might think she was better, but her opponent's rig was faster.

Tay couldn't remember what her commander had said. Something about the Yevetha being better pilots, better at handling G-forces. She forced herself into a tight roll, swinging the ship right to follow her target, but his turn was tighter and she watched him slip away. She gritted her teeth and eased off the engines to realign herself, but by then the Yevethan had already put distance between them. A feral growl escaped her lips. Oh, she'd send that trifoil straight to-

"Phantom Leader to Vanguard Squadron and Saber Leader, those Thrustships are on the move again, might wanna keep on eye, we'll need an opening to get to the shipyards."

She could barely hear the guy. Her head was ringing. The inertial dampeners -- her control board flashed red. Had she taken a hit? She bared her teeth but her heart wasn't in it.

<<"Vanguard- Vanguard Three to Vanguard Squadron, we- we should get set for a break to the shipyards. Hit the Thrustship.">>

 

[Constantine Oliva]

The Yevethans had reared their ugly heads once more. Hundreds of years ago, they'd done the same, bringing their genocidal war machine forth to fight the New Republic. Just as had been true in the Black Fleet crisis, the local sector had been unready. Just as had happened 800 years ago, the Yevethans brought devastation to the area. But unlike before, The Alliance had sent a response well before the Yevethans could become too powerful. Now, Constantine was at the last jump point before the Yevethan shipyards.

The 253rd Corvette line was ready--its men eager and its captains capable. Commodore Oliva was more than confident. Most of the Yevethan navy was made out of Thrustships, vessels Warrior-IIs could almost match alone. He would make sure they did not face them alone. Twenty Warrior-IIs and the ten other vessel in the line would make short work of any Thrustship. Now there was only one more jump before the battle...

"All ships, you are clear for hyperspace. Let's get this done with before the Yevetha can kill any more innocents."

The command was out. The line jumped. Minutes later, they arrived as one single block of ships. They came out of hyperspace firing, ready to give support to the GA forces already there. But one ship did not arrive. The Hawk was missing.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What the hell do you mean there's something in the engines?"

Constantine was beyond frustrated. Hawk had not made the jump because an emergency call from the engine room. Apparently, there was something down there. A spectre, a ghost they called it. It had moved straight through one of the walls. At least, so they said. Their commander hadn't believed a word about the ghost. Had they made a mistake and were desperately attempting to get time to fix it? He had to know.

"I'm coming down there. Lieutenant Yann? You have the bridge."

Hawk was not a large ship. It only took Constantine ten minutes to reach the engine block before. As he approached the engine block, he heard the distant echo of blaster fire. Evidently, the crew hadn't been lying about something being in the engines. The young commodore was quick to reach a comms panel while he readied his service pistol.

"All Marines to the engine block, weapons ready. This is not a drill."

There were only ten aboard, but they were good men. Hopefully this wouldn't end in disaster. Moments later the blaster fire in the engine room fell silent. Either the something was dead, or the crew in the engine room was.

 

[Qell Auraeli]

N ' Z O T H . O R B I T A L . S H I P Y A R D S
K O O R N A C H T . C L U S T E R

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O B J E C T I V E . I
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It was a baptism by fire for the rookies of Vanguard.

While the Alliance had hit hard and fast with that opening gambit, the Yevethan forces simply refused to blink, let alone buckle. Their own xenophobic fevor whipping them into a single-minded frenzy that saw them launching the counter-offensive even as their comrades vanished all around them. In seconds, Vanguard went from leading the charge to dodging and weaving through a hornet’s nest of enemy fighters. No holds barred. No quarter given. A far cry from the sims back at the academy.

Qell’s breathing sharpened, sweat beading on her brow as she was forced Her breathing sharpened, sweat beading on her brow as to snap, twist, roll and juke her way through the throng. Pure instinct rather than training seeing her through one side of the engagement and out the other, rapid bursts of green laserfire blazing a trail for herself and Alex. Scoring hits, but nothing duracrete enough to thin the herd.

Kark, she felt exhausted already.

And now she had to go back in again.

<<“Vanguard Squadron, this is Vanguard Lead.”>> The imposing voice of Captain Plahs Older cut across the channels, the clipped tones of his Corulag background unmistakable even when rendered with an electronic buzz of static. <<“Keep it tight, keep it fast. Watch your angles. First opportunity we get, we’re hitting that station. Don't embarrass me by dying until then.”>>

Easier said than done.

Old and out-dated as they might have initially appeared when compared to the newer models REC was pumping out, the Yevethan’s clearly weren’t about to let themselves be underestimated. Not when they had the speed and maneuverability of an interceptor crammed into the tight package of a superiority fighter. A mouthwatering combination. One made all the more serious by the obvious research they had put into the GADF starfighter corps playbook.

A playbook that, until a scant week or two prior, had been her only frame of reference. The golden gospel that had been drilled into them sun up to sun down, every minute of every day for months at the academy. Now it was what would quite likely be getting them killed.

Perfect.

She let out a stuttered breath and shook her head. She should’ve been afraid, and maybe she was, but there was an unmistakable thrill creeping through her veins now. A rush of adrenaline that caused a tight smile to blossom in the shadow of her cockpit despite the fethshow they were in. Trepidation melting away in the face of challenge that lay before her. A competitive streak might have won her few friends back on Coruscant, but here it might very well what kept her alive.

She just had to worry about doing the same for Alex.

<<“Stay on me, Ten.”>> She chimed, increasing her speed even as she dialed down her compensator a few percent. The sudden increase in inertia pushing her uncomfortably hard back into the seat, but gave her a better feel for the vessel around her. <<“Three, Nine. Looks like you’re the belle of the ball. Give us the count of twenty and loop around along this vector. Ten and I will sweep them off their feet.”>>

______________________________________________________________

Olen Halcorr | Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke | Frea Sheplin
______________________________________________________________​

 

[Caldon Tenneth]

This was it. This is what he had wanted to do for a long time. Defend the New Republic from those who would destroy for the sake of destroying.

Such was the threat they faced again with the Yevetha. Caldon had read the historical records, watched the archival footage, and read Leia Organa-Solo’s speech before the Senate where she invoked Article 5 of the Common Charter and declared war on the Yevetha. It quite surprised him that the Yevetha had been able to rebuild so quickly, given the methods of the last species that crossed them.

"Let's make this one count, everyone."

That would be Phantom Leader, Olen Halcorr . He believed he had met him at the inauguration of the current Supreme Chancellor. His file showed him an exceptional squadron leader. They were also flying with Vanguard squadron, and he thought he could sense the presence of two others he had met at the inauguration ( Alex Locke and Qell Auraeli ). He hoped that they would survive.

His hands tightened on the controls of his X-wing as they soared through the stars, S-foils locking into attack position. He kept in formation with the rest of Saber Squadron as they followed Phantom and Vanguard Squadron into the fray as Trifoils flashed by with Sphereships, his sensors lighting up with incoming. R7 chirped a warning which flashed on Caldon’s astromech translation screen. He shook his head in the negative before speaking.

“No R7, they shouldn’t detect us while we have cloaking engaged.”

The Saber-class X-wing was surely a more than worthy successor to the venerable StealthX from the days of Grandmaster Luke Skywalker, at least in Caldon’s mind. Besides being rendered invisible to sensors, it was also rendered invisible to the naked eye of most species. Perfect for the Jedi to use in a sneak attack. Hopefully that is what Saber Lead ( Maynard Treicolt ) had in mind for the assault.

"Phantom Leader to Vanguard Squadron and Saber Leader, those Thrustships are on the move again, might wanna keep on eye, we'll need an opening to get to the shipyards."

An idea formed in his mind as Saber Squadon followed Saber Lead. He sent a message through the telepathy network squadron wide ( Maynard Treicolt , Loske Treicolt , Leon Gallo ).

<<“Our stealth capabilities should be enough to get in behind their main defenses and hit the shipyard in surprise attack. It could throw the Yevetha into disarray and force them to redeploy their formations on the fly.”>>

He phrased it like a suggestion, as he was a junior member of the Squadron on this outing with little previous experience. Hopefully, if his idea was shot down they’d have a better plan than something like the infamous trench run during the Battle of Yavin, or the Mass Shadow Generator at Malichor V.

This is where the fun begins...

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Piloting Catsuit

Flying: Bloodstone

Objective: Assist Olen Halcorr

Current Configuration: Lana Layne (See bio)

Westenra's X-Wing, heavily modified to her liking and with a deep crimson color whose emblem was that of a ruby surrounded by clouds dripping blood flew into the thick of battle, using her enhanced Anti-Personnel Laser Cannons to keep the craft at maximum possible speed and maneuverability as she waded into a large mass of Tri-Foils. As her body was not bound by normal organic parameters, she was ableto do manuevers that would kill others.

However, it did not stop the way the Forces at work affected her body, how it squished and bulged and warped to the effects of such constant manuevering in such a tight manner as she began targeting engines with the grace of a diving falcon and ripping right the feth into them, shredding half a dozen through sheer accuracy and precise targeting.

This copy of Westenra had so grown to enjoy Navy life it had been weeks since she had contacted the Castle Morpheus. All she liked doing was flying with her squadmates or preparing to fly. Probably due for leave soon...

Westenra felt free in this guise. Flying was amazing.

Her craft darted through a dozen different dog fights as she pushed her way towards the orbital shipyard, cannons blasting through shields with pure volley fire. When Olen warned them to be on the lookout for an opening, Westenra immediately began to scan the defensive perimeter ahead spotting what looked to be on of the sohere ships moving into an ever wider but momentary gap.

"Sir, gap widening quickly between ships. I think a good amount of us could make it if we all rush it now!"

Voldran Molf

Cynthia Alucard

 

[Daz Farlander]

Daz Farlander, Lieutenant, Galactic Alliance Starfighter Corps
Location: N'zoth Orbital Shipyards, Koornacht Cluster
Tags: Olen Halcorr | Voldran Molf | Aeson Keel | Westenra Mina | Cynthia Alucard
​

​

"Lock your S-Foils in-"

"I heard you the first time!"

Daz had been in this situation a multitude of different times. In or out of the simulator, the scenario was always the same. Fighters approach, therefore break position to get a better attack angle, follow through. The more simplified version of the lesson from the flight instructor so many years ago. Daz had chopped it down to a couple of words, so it would be easier to remember while sitting in the cockpit. Phantom Twelve appeared on his right. Daz gave a steady look and a smile, and Twelve replied with a thumbs up. He nodded, looking back at the many bright instruments. The quiet green light suddenly turned red, however, as three pings came from radar.

"Hey, Twelve, point four, tell me what you see," Daz said, taking a look himself.

Phantom Twelve took a look before responding, replying after a couple of seconds. "Three trifoils, coming straight for our position."

"Heh. Go ahead and catch their attention, I'll break around to the back, take a shot or two."

"You better not leave me." Twelve said as he throttled ahead. Daz waited a second before gripping the joystick. A quick jolt to the side turned the nose of the X-Wing, changing the direction of the entire craft. He saw Phantom Twelve flyby about 40 meters away from him, the fighters following in close pursuit. Suave changed to fear fast as Daz knew he couldn't be left alone fast. He had to follow through with his plan.

Daz gripped the joystick, pulling it towards his chest. The X-Wing followed his every command, slowly changing pitch. Quickly, Daz found himself upside down. A quick jerk to the left turned him right back up. As his vision steadied, there was Twelve dodging and weaving in and out of danger. As Daz got closer, one trifoil fighter got in view of the targeting computer. It was not fully aligned with the crosshairs, but it was there. "Wait for it," Daz told himself as tried to maneuver the fighter into his line of sights. 3. 2. 1. Perfect shot. Not a second passed before he pulled the joysticks trigger, causing his blaster cannons to jerk back in recoil. The shot ruptured an engine, the flame of it slowly burning out, and sputtering with its final breath.

One down.

Before he could get another tri-foil locked in his sights, a yell came from Phantom Twelve. Daz instantly turned his head to see one of Twelve's four engines lit up with flames. His heart started to race as he quickly tried to get in position for another takedown. And as if the situation couldn't get any worse, another 2 pings came from the radar. Another set of fighters were on their merry way. "To hell with it all!" Daz said as he now spoke into his intercom.

"This is Phantom Ten to Phantom Squadron. Kind of in a predicament here! Definitely would want some help!"

​

 

[Westenra Mina]

'Lana' heard the distress call and immediately made a turn that shattered her bones and stressed the frame to its limits to reach Daz Farlander

She saw the two sets of fighters closing in, and stayed on target, opening fire at full speed with her foils retracted, targetibg the engines of enemy fighters with relentless barrages of cannon fire, chasing down two and destroying them in seconds when they simply couldn't pull her turns, before chasing down and forcing the fighters on Daz's back to disperse, dodging return fire like a buzzing fly, only to execute an impossible turn and blast apart her pursuer.

"Phantom 007 to Phantom Twelve how's your engine?" West called out, flesh resetting to normal in her seat as it readjusted.

 

[Aeson Keel]

Daz Farlander Voldran Molf Cynthia Alucard Westenra Mina Olen Halcorr

​

Aeson's starfighter screamed through space, its four engines howling like wild beasts. Indeed, the X-wing seemed to be on the hunt as it peeled off every which way taking kill after kill. The Yevethan starfighter pilots had the advantage, their bodies could withstand more than double the G-Forces a human could and so their starfighters took that into account. Their aerodynamic tri-winged frames danced with a grace that none of the Alliance fighters could match. But that made their pilots lazy and over confident. They thought that because he couldn't make such harsh turns or travel at certain speeds that Aeson and his comrades wouldn't be able to touch them.

They were wrong.

Aeson pulled hard on his stick, the strain of the turn and the speed of the maneuver causing his etheric rudders to audibly groan around him. The thrust modulators on his engines flared this way and that to compensate. G5 screamed, its translation rolling across a screen to his left.

"Yeah, yeah," Aeson muttered as one of the Tri-Fighters fell into his sights. He depressed the trigger sending a spurt of red energy bolts at the ship. THe first two pelted his shields, overloading his deflectors and scoring the ship's armor. The second two from his burst crashed violently into the vessel, slagging the engine housings and igniting the vessel's tibannah gas reserves. In a brilliant explosion, the rapidly expanding gas hurtled one of its wings directly into the path of another Yevethan fighter, the vessels' shrapnel adding to the increasingly thick debris cloud in the space between the two fleets and the shipyard.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was being hailed he was being ordered to go somewhere. Finally, he had a goal other than to thin out the fighters. Ultimately, the Yevethan fighters, while impressive, only had laser cannons. They couldn't do much to their big ships, but they could easily nip a bombing run in the bud. But they were thinning now. It was time. He formed up on Phantom Leader and sent him two clicks of acknowledgement on their squadron com.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

OBJECTIVE : STOP THE YEVETHAN AGGRESSION

N’ZOTH ORBITAL SHIPYARD // KOORNACHT CLUSTER // X-02 SABER CLASS
PHANTOM: Olen Halcorr // Westenra Mina // Daz Farlander // Aeson Keel // Voldran Molf // Cynthia Alucard
VANGUARD: Alex Locke // Taysonyl Callenid // Qell Auraeli
SABER [ENGAGING]: Maynard Treicolt // Kir Dantos // Caldon Tenneth // Leon Gallo

BLACKSTAR​

Twenty thousand worlds. That was the gravity of today –– protecting that dream of prosperity for the galaxy’s good people. While only a fraction of those worlds within the system harboured life, and sentient life, there was a necessity to present a reminder. Enemies of peace, ancient or nascent, would be cut off at the head.

<...This uncanny knack for technology was just another reason for the Yevetha to think so highly of themselves.>

Frank, as usual, had spent the travel into the system giving Loske the lore on their enemy. Whatever he could index from the archives. Eagerly, he recited the findings to the ace pilot, inflecting and emphasizing particular areas that would either motivate her to put her foot down or he just happened to find it interesting. The most fascinating thing to Frank was the idea of the importance of blood, and its place in their religion. He regaled in conjecture how important blood seemed to be to all organics, and before Loske could interrupt and remind him of its necessity to keep her alive and draw a comparison to some of his systems, he made that connection himself.

Frank’s anecdotal summaries were interrupted by a bark of warning from him. Without thinking, Loske slammed the stick hard to port and caught the emerald highlights of a laser bolt shooting through where she had just been. More red, from an X-Wing, chased back along the same lines and something exploded.

It had been a shot in the dark for the would-be opponent. Everything that made the X-02 so invisible was activated, and Frank strung off a list of explanations and ran a check for cloaking malfunctions. There were none. She whipped her head to the side, checking to make sure there was no evidence of scrap metal that bore the Saber-Class structure. She could feel her heart in her throat, ears and wrists. Gratefully, the rogue Yevetha fighter had been isolated and not disrupted their tight formation. The panic gripping her vitals relaxed.

Phantom Leader’s transmission met the channels of the two-pronged head of the Saber group, and Loske didn’t indicate a response immediately. The flux in frequency outbound from her X-Wing would put their stealthy position at a disadvantage to engage in chatter..at least until Frank encrypted an affirmative node that scattered through her signature modulator that pulsed back to Olen’s comms.

<<“Our stealth capabilities should be enough to get in behind their main defenses and hit the shipyard in surprise attack. It could throw the Yevetha into disarray and force them to redeploy their formations on the fly.”>>

Loske glanced at her screen, then back out the cockpit canopy. The frantic pulses on her radar were replicated for the naked eye against the starry stretch of the Koornacht Cluster. Alliance marked starfighters organized to fly into the teeth of the enemy formations.

The other squadrons were already hammering through the defences without any of their cloaking devices activated –– drawing the attention of the bloodthirsty Yevethans. It was like someone sprinkling food flakes on the surface of a goldie pond, and hungry, puckered fishy lips navigating to the surface to gobble up as much as they could.

<We’re missing a Corvette.> Frank announced, keeping track of the intended reinforcements versus the actuals. <The Hawk never made the jump.> The Hawk was a ship that was present in almost every encounter The Alliance appeared in. Small, but reliable. The information was bothersome, but the blonde wasn’t able to do anything about the retroactive information. All that meant was the planned firepower to hit the shipyards had been decreased.

Saber had meant to splinter off after an initial run at the drive yards, rerouting to the sources of void comms; where dozens of ships had gone dark. Such was the purpose of Jedi –– their usefulness knew no bounds and the concept of something attacking their people meant command would put the light swords in the fight. With the corvette out of the picture though, the gun count couldn’t be devastated much more. She clicked her teeth together in thought, rolling her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

<The other squadrons are forming up for an attack run. You’re right, Three. Their best chance is us going first.> There were fresh pilots out there. A humourless smile managed to bleed through her voice. <Good thing we’re in that position. Let’s put all power to thrusters, cut through the traffic as undetected as you can –– guard that trajectory –– S-Foils as soon as we’re on target. Pair off when we arrive so they have something less regulated to chase. Saber-1 and I will lead the attack.>

Loske jumped her throttle full forward and shunted energy to her engines, pushing the speed up to maximum. The nose of her fighter dipped just below the rest of the action, tapping the pedals to maneuver through the engagements starboard and port side.

They were near enough for the yard to be visible against the vacuum without sensors. The square formation rapidly grew in size as the squadron advanced. It shone with an eerie metallic glow. The coordinates on her readout pulsed indicatively and the double wings on her X-wing split apart to display the iconic four wings the fighter was known for. Wing-mounted armaments and quadruple engines now deployed for maximum firepower and maneuverability.

Now surface features became visible. Docking bays. Broadcast antennae’s and other sentient-made characteristics became recognizable.

As with all attack runs, Loske’s breath grew faster in anticipation. Automatic life support detected the respiratory shift and compensated properly. Meanwhile, her ship buffeted and her teeth clenched against the turbulence.

<Passing through the outer shields. I’m on your wing, Outrider.> Loske announced through the Saber network. The location detail was probably superfluous by now, given how frequently the squadron paired off or operated together, but there was some fresh blood on the team that may not have been so privy to the typical partnerships.

<Activating deflectors to the front, doubling for protection.> Frank added.

When the turbulence ended, the Sabers would release chaos of their own to the unsuspecting yards below. Her targeting array blinked happily, and she squeezed her thumb over the switch that released two torpedoes toward the yard’s surface.

Inside, within the shipyard, alarm sirens began a mournful, clangorous wail as slow-to-react personnel realized their starfighter defences had been penetrated and they were under attack.

​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

O U T R I D E R
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
SABER SQUADRON | SABER LEADER
N'ZOTH SHIPYARDS
G H O U L

There was at least a proper avenue of reasoning this time for the excuse he'd posture for waiting oh so long to return to the vaunted sticks of his X-Wing. 'Buddy' certainly adored the change of pace. To the droid it felt like an eternity between each occasion he was slotted into the astromech slot of Saber One. At the very least then, seated in fiery peril or not, the droid would know he would prove of use. To be an instrument of great use to the now famed Galactic Alliance General. His stature seemed to grow more surreal and laughably out of his touch each passing day.

Of course, the ratty farm boy from the Mandalore Sector never felt any of it was deserved, but merit spoke for itself. At least, he hoped.

The Yevethan were a despicable threat, one right up Maynard's wheelhouse after a slew of victories along the Braxant Run before returning to the Core and freeing Brentaal IV from the influence of the Chaos Gate.

Award ceremonies, inagurations...honeymoons. All the briefest moments of respite to break up a life of close grazes with death and barreling lunges into devastation. It made him numb, more numb than any Jedi should be. He should be an endless font of patience, understanding, wisdom. He was a soldier at the end of it, were the Alliance not so bound at the hip with the New Jedi Order and his closest confidants so intertwined in its workings. The respect he gave to the order for redeeming him from his life spent waitin' 'round to die, he wasn't sure if he could call himself worthy of the title.

It was following the rhythm of familiar beats. The rattling off of the numbers, designations, call signs. Linking the tethers between each squadron of the task force assigned to this operation and finally sinking himself into the instinctual sensory envelopment of flying this thing.

<Everything alright? You're quiet. You aren't usually quiet. Well...at least, lately.> Buddy, his astromech sounded out to him to clean break his silent union with his thoughts and contemplation. For the highest ranking pilot present? He certainly was quiet. It seemed everytime he'd gotten used to the neon instruments of the X-Wing he was thrown back into the mud and slaughter of infantry combat and then vice versa. He was just comfortable enough to shut down his inner contemplation for the task at hand but not quite enough to ever feel quite right in the midst of it.

<"I'm just tired is all..."> Treicolt stated, glancing past the orange visor of his flight helmet to the multi color display splaying out the location of each starfighter in their group, what would start uniform in a visage of coordination he knew well would disperse at the demands of the mission, seeping into the very venue of this battle like the crying hawks of prey they were.

He wasn't sure what he'd ever do without Loske. In just about any facet of life to begin with but her readiness to pull at the reins of command seamlessly when Maynard all but couldn't suit his role as commanding officer. Much as he did at Dubrillion, where the sunken dismay of Allyson Locke 's embedding into the Sith Imperial ranks had her barely able to help coordinate, Maynard managed the nigh entirety of Saber's assignments in the high stakes operation.

Where one faltered, the other was there to bear the burden.

When he was finally able to clear his self inflicted foggy malaise to surge his thoughts to the forefront of the operation around him. Luckily Loske had already set the shot because of course she did.

<The other squadrons are forming up for an attack run. You’re right, Three. Their best chance is us going first.>

<Good thing we’re in that position. Let’s put all power to thrusters, cut through the traffic as undetected as you can –– guard that trajectory –– S-Foils as soon as we’re on target. Pair off when we arrive so they have something less regulated to chase. Saber-1 and I will lead the attack.>

<"Copy. Power to thrusters for the push. Blue on me at pair off. Targets on scope, priority descending. Heading at one two two magnetic. Target...just about whatever you can hit in these 'yards.> Maynard relays, semantics more than anything but as Loske mirrored his own worry, the squadron was green, inexperienced. At least, they certainly didn't have the missions the Treicolts had under their belt at the tip of the Saber.

<Power transferred to engines, deflector shields double front. Holding at one hundred and fifty percent.

He wanted to say it, he really did but he opted to slide the cliché for now and instead, let the hydraulic hiss of his s-foils prying apart to splay the iconic profile of the Incom fighter in its wake.

Ready to make war.

<Passing through the outer shields. I’m on your wing, Outrider.>

<"Copy, Blue."> He said, shifting a quick glance to his starboard side, reaffirmed in the in-person view of Loske's starfighter, always ever seeking out a brief eye contact but always assailed by the pulling glare of the canopy.

<"Loading up 'Shadow', starting our attack run at fifteen hundred."> Maynard said, easing the targetting computer from his sight as they neared the shipyards, brazenly thrusting themselves ahead of the attack before soon enough, by the will of the Force.

They made hell on the Yevethan.

SABER | Loske Treicolt | Kir Dantos | Caldon Tenneth | Leon Gallo
PHANTOM | Olen Halcorr | Daz Farlander | Aeson Keel
VANGUARD | Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke | Qell Auraeli | Frea Sheplin

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon had never flown in a combat situation. The closest thing had been the race on Vulpter. This…This was completely different. Leon clutched at the controls of his X-wing. The battle was going on, mere moments away. Flashes of blaster fire and exploding ships were all around him. Luckily his fighter was equipped with stealth systems, so he wasn't the target. Leon wasn't a bad pilot, but he knew he was no where near the level of most of the squadron, maybe even not on the level of a pilot fresh out the academy.

But Leon had the rest of his squadron to rely on. Others who could help keep him alive until he got to their level of skill. The same squadron rocketing on ahead towards the Yevethan dockyard. The majority of the Yevethan force was away, while the Sabers rapidly sped towards the shipyard. The radio chatter continued. Leon didn't know his fellow pilots as he should, nor well enough to recognize their voices. He just trusted them.

<Good thing we’re in that position. Let’s put all power to thrusters, cut through the traffic as undetected as you can –– guard that trajectory –– S-Foils as soon as we’re on target. Pair off when we arrive so they have something less regulated to chase. Saber-1 and I will lead the attack.>

[/div]

Pair off? Best thing Leon could think of was to find another saber to keep close...S-foils hopefully meant just locking them in attack position.

<"Copy. Power to thrusters for the push. Blue on me at pair off. Targets on scope, priority descending. Heading at one two two magnetic. Target...just about whatever you can hit in these 'yards.>
[/div]

What the feth did any of that mean?

As they closed, the young Jedi pilot clumsily began flipping switches, desperately trying to get ready. The S-foils finally opened, moments before the run started. He fired his cannons clumsily, not missing only because his target was so big. The cannons likely wouldn't do much, but it was something at least. Leon's X-wing was angled towards the Station, something Leon remembered moments before he nearly collided with it, pulling hard on the controls to bring his nose up again. Cursing, Leon pulled away from the attack run, trying to figure out when to turn around again.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

SABER Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Kir Dantos | Caldon Tenneth |
PHANTOM | Olen Halcorr | Daz Farlander | Aeson Keel
VANGUARD | Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke | Qell Auraeli | Frea Sheplin

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: …
OBJECTIVE: Regicide - survive the Starweirds
ALLIES: Open
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Taxman's Embrace | Visions of Gold | REC-LA/02 Combat Armour
POST: I

Hurried footsteps on the metal desk, typically a quiet background sound, echoed loudly down the empty hallways, their rhythmic pattern interrupted only ragged panting as an individual run for their very life.

Aerarii skidded around a corner, yelling an Aarguaan curse as he almost lost his balance. His lungs burned and every muscle in his body ached, but he dare not pause or even look over his shoulder. They were right behind him. The most terrifying entity he has ever crossed paths with, beings who terrifying reputation was known the galaxy over, creatures from who few were known to escape.

Starweirds.

And they were right behind him.

Were he not devoting every fibre of his body to escaping, Tithe would have taken a moment to curse his foolishness. Where others had seen reports of abandoned Yevethan warships floating in deep space, he had seen credits. Little was known about the insular and friarly xenophobic species, but was thing was for certain - they had plentiful resources. Over the ages, the Yevetha had rebuild their warring civilians from almost literal dust. Such as undertaking could not come from sheer goodwill alone. Their coffers must run deep.

And yet, Tithe had failed to find the bountiful riches he desired. He had arrived on the Galactic Alliance task force sent to investigate the vessels, lying that he had vast dealings with the Yeventha during his time with the Sith Empire. The first signs of trouble had presented themselves shortly after his landed - the battle cruisers looked as though it had been torn apart from the inside. Shredded Yevethan bodies littered the hallways. At first, Tithe had assumed it was a coup or uprising - the Yevetha were known for their bloodlust and ritual killings.

Then the GA crew accompanying him had begun disappearing one by one. The first few had been assumed to have wandered off or gotten separated, but it soon became abundantly clear that something more sinister was at play.

Just as the decision to turn back had been made, they had appeared. The Starweirds.

And now, Tithe was alone and very lost, praying against all odds that he somehow found his way back to the docking bay before the gaunt hyperspace demons got their hands on him.

 

[Olen Halcorr]

"We are the Phantoms that strike in the night."
​

Objective I - Beat the Yevetha
Equipment: REC-SS01 X-Wing Starfighter Twin Suns Variant
ALLIES:
Phantom: Voldran Molf Daz Farlander Aeson Keel Westenra Mina Cynthia Alucard
Vanguard: Taysonyl Callenid Alex Locke Frea Sheplin Qell Auraeli
Sabre: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Caldon Tenneth Leon Gallo
Fleeters: Constantine Oliva

​

Gazing out into the abyss, he studied the spherical thrustship, locating it's bridge and one of the many protrusions that served as batteries for the ship. His deep thought was interrupted by the sound of one of the rookies through his com unit. Swinging himself to look out the right side of his cockpit, he spotted two D-type trifoil fighters tailing the X-Wing.

"This is Phantom Ten to Phantom Squadron. Kind of in a predicament here! Definitely would want some help!"

​

"Two on your tail Ten, I'm on em, hold on." He mentioned through the com. Olen pushed forward, decreasing the throttle a tad as he hit the stick to starboard, making a sharp turn to go and assist his comrade. Coming in quick on the approach, the enemy soon noticed his presence as banked hard, Olen cutting the leader off just as they was about to close in for the blast. He shot up, in a tight loop roll, he pulled back, letting himself fall naturally into the flight path of his enemy.

Predictable as ever, maybe a little too much so..

The seasoned starfighter pilot came up behind and locked on, blasting a spray of fire, blasting off the main wing, which bounced off his shields and out into the space. Another blip on the screen which he needed to take care of. This time it was headed straight for Daz, the fighter twisting and turning rather predictably, potentially to get him into a position where he'd relax and make a mistake. All too common, all too deadly.

"Watch it, one more." Just as he was about to swoop in, the X-Wing of Phantom Seven, Westenra Mina came into view and vaped it, taking the heat off of Ten, but leaving Twelve dangerously exposed. One more blip that seemed to have broken off before was closing in on Phantom Twelve. He resisted the urge to look in horror as Twelve went up in flames. Like Ten, Twelve was still a rookie. He'd lost so many of them, that to his shock, it had almost become something routine for him, he saw pilots die almost all the time, but for a rookie to die was a waste of a good person with loads of potential.

Taking a large sigh, he pulled back out of the fray where the Alliance squadrons were forming up for an attack run while the disorganised thrustships were occupied by the fleet. "Hmm, Dewback." He called out the name of his astromech droid which shot him a bleep of acknowledgement from the rear of the ship. "Get me a diagnostic on those shipyards," undertaking his order, a holographic model of the shipyards was displayed on the right panel of his dashboard. It showed a multitude of anti-starfighter emplacements and towers which would prove problematic even for the Jedi.

Switching to the GA com frequency, he spoke into the unit, warning his Jedi allies. "Phantom Leader to Sabre Leader, we're on our way to come and join you, watch for those towers and anti-fighter emplacements on the north and east of the shipyards, I suggest a nova flare on the north while my people and Vanguard send our torps then push for the west side."

Olen switched back to the squadron channel, notifying his friends that it was time. "Alright Phantom, this is it, form up and get set for position oh-three-fifty, deflectors to double front, hit em hard and fast." Pulling into the trajectory, he diverted power to his main rear thrusters and kept the throttle at an acceptable level. He also diverted some of his leftover output to his deflector shields, setting them doublefront and starting on.

"I'm going in." He set his firing mode to proton torpedoes and worked out his firing solution as he soon passed through the outer shields also. "Assign target position oh-three-fifty." He said, as the solution materialised onto his targeting computer.

It was now or never.

 

[Gala Geert]

OBJECTIVE: REGICIDE

ALLIES: Aerarii Tithe // 2 other Twilight Commandos // O P E N
EQUIPMENT: COMBAT ARMOUR // FEVERWASP (2) // SOHEI // TIDEFALL
​

​

Her team had managed to secure the Alliance vessel half a klick from the floating barge belonging to the Yevethans. Only two personnel had survived, and their stammering was incoherent –– the cause of the wrecks still inconclusive. But they had their people back and en route to the principal operating ships, med bay for stabilization and assessment.

With that completed, Twilight Squadron had been redeployed back to the Yevethan's capital ship. The troopers had done a final operation check on their weapons when they'd been delivered into the durasteel cathedral of the ship's cavernous main hangar. They'd whistled in marvel at the vaulted ceilings and panelled walls soaring upward and outward.

They'd looked down the long metal planes into a barely visible vanishing point and decided, as a collective of six, to split up into two groups. That way, they could cover more ground and remain reinforced and protected.

Gala had been on starships before. She'd been on them when the crew was alive, and she'd been on them when that wasn't the case. Trudging n through the cavernous stretches of yawning metal was all too reminiscent of The Sachen above Tepasi. A ship whose crew had been infected by the netherworld and ghastly horrors had torn the containment asunder.

The parallels were uncanny, and perhaps the most distinct difference was the ship's schematics so far. It was distinctly not Republic Engineering Corporation made. This was a disadvantage for the commando groups operating on rescue duty for both the initial scout team and as enforcement for potential Yevethan prisoners.

Outside of the docking bay, the inner levels of the ship were both more familiar and strange. Tube stops glowed, announcing line errors and counselling patience. The ship still expected the crew to be alive to hear its pre-recorded toneless reassurances. Air recyclers hummed. The floors were relatively clean and clear. The sense of near normalcy made the changes, and vacancies of the ship stand out eerily.

She glanced upward at the tubes running along with the ceiling. Flakes of something –– her HUD couldn't index them –– swirled about in nautilus patterns. Beneath her boot, something crunched, and she stepped back to see what it was. She recognized them as severed hands, the trailing wrist bones charred black. Part of her mind screamed, but it was a distant part. Easy to ignore. Her pause triggered one of her companions.

<You read something, Gladio?>

Another scream, not from her psyche, caught her attention and a colourful pattern of a silhouette animated in her digital vision.

<Yes.> She answered quickly, cocking her head. <That.>

<I read it too. Level your weapons; it sounds like our company has company.>

Running, the trio of troopers quickly came around a corner that connected with the hallway that had been occupied by the source of the terrorized scream.

<Hey!> She barked and reached out to grip the shoulder of the running fellow, yanking him roughly to the side and out of the main hallway where his feet had been pounding seconds earlier. Meanwhile, the two other commandos took up a position to point their scopes down the hallway to seek out whatever it was that had been chasing the asset.

<Where are the others? Are you alone?>

<No Gladio. He's not alone.> Her squadmates responded on behalf of Tithe -- his voice thin with distress.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Lieutenant Cynthia "The Pixie" Alucard
Objective: Stop the Yevethan Aggression
Actions: Join in Phantom Squadron's Attack

Spoiler: Equipment

UL-13 “Corporis” Skin Suit
REC-SS02 X-wing Space Superiority Starfighter

​

Cyn kept her gaze on her screen, the cockpit of her X-wing was rather tight when compared to her precious cockpit within a TIE. With a slight turn of her head she managed to look outwards to the vast cold void around her. Though moments of energy beams arcing across her field of vision would refocus her attention towards the battlefield. In front of her lay the enemy starfighters, defending the shipyards with every ounce of their will and nothing in concern of their own well-being.​

​

Survival meant nothing to them if they lost the shipyard. ​

​

Such was the tactic that Cyn had been trained before, she felt almost emphatic to their cause because of it. More so a curious understanding, which for the most part did not deter her from firing her weapons of course. Phantom Squadron had their mission and Cyn intended to complete her mission. Her X-Wing tore through one of the enemy starfighters with ease as she readjusted her heading to align herself with the rest of Phantom Squadron.​

​

The power and ferocity that came from the X-Wing was not something new to Cyn, but the strangeness came from how it turned and maneuvered. Even months inside Simulations and Practice Flights, Cyn felt uncomfortable whenever she engaged in high velocity turns. She felt like a Peregrine Hawk being that suddenly turned into an Eagle. A Pixie into an Elf.​

​

Her uncomfortably predicament aside, Cyn flew alongside the rest of her Phantom Squadron as she once again maneuvered to catch another enemy starfighter. The small satisfaction of another tally gave her a rising sense of confidence with her X-Wing piloting. And with new orders being sent to help assist the rest of the Squadron Cyn obeyed without hesitation.​

​

“Copy that Phantom Leader.”​

​

Cyn narrowed her focus and pushed her X-Wing into attack formation. Survival now required her full commitment into the attack.​

​

| Olen Halcorr | Voldran Molf | Daz Farlander | Aeson Keel | Westenra Mina | Alex Locke | Maynard Treicolt |

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Abandoned Yevethan cruiser
OBJECTIVE: Regicide - survive the Starweirds
ALLIES: Gala Geert
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Taxman's Embrace | Visions of Gold | REC-LA/02 Combat Armour
POST: II

Tithe skidded around another sharp corner, his boots losing traction through a slick of Yevethan body fluid. If he had any breath left, he would have cursed. Hacked up limbs of the saurian species littered the hallways of the cruiser, their renown brutality and fighting prowess no match for the deadly Starweirds. How a humble bureaucrat had managed to survive this long was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to turn around and ask.

He hurried down the darkened hallway, a sinking feeling developing as he realised none of the markings on the wall were familiar. Had he somehow gotten turned around? Was he in fact heading away from the shuttles, away for his only means of escape? Well, that was it then, he was going to die here, alone in the darkness of space of an abandoned alien vessel, his life taken by the hands of a nightmarish abomination.

Just when he thought things could not get any worst, a Starweird reached out and grabbed him. Tithe kicked and screamed as he was dragged from the main hallway, his body overwhelmed by the competing desires to fight and just give in. It was only when the Starweird spoke to him in basic, began asking him questions, and refused to tear him limb from limb that he opened his eyes.

Tithe found himself surrounded not by hideous gaunt apparitions of death, but rather an armoured squad of Alliance commandos. The bureaucrat took some deep breaths to try to slow his pounding heart. He was saved!

“I, ah, I, Zulu Squad,” he stammered, trying to catch his breath. “Sergeant Waade, the others, all dead.” Now he had a moment to catch his bearings, Tithe realised there weren’t that many soldiers around him. In fact, there was less than had constituted Zulu Squad, the team sent to escort him to the bridge. And they hadn’t been enough to keep him safe.

“We need to get out of here!” He jumped to his feet, looking around frantically. The Starweirds couldn’t be too far behind him. “It’s folly to remain, folly, we have to get away. Is your, ah, shuttle nearby?”

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Location | ASV Titanica
Objective | Stop the Yevethan Assault

"Watch out!" To scream for the helsman to move the ship out of the out of the path of a fiery ball of debris was absolutely ludicrous, however Admiral Myneto had come to expect that from his Marine compatriot whom had insisted he accompany the bridge crew of the newly completed Providence Class Battlecruiser Titanica.

"Relax, Commamder. I know you have that fear of space debris but hey, don't forget we're in one of the largest, most advanced and most heavily protected vessels in the fleet." Through gritted teeth did Zahara reply, attempting to calm his voice as much as he could. "Get me the Squadron Commanders and thier seconds"

He turned away from Commander Pryde to focus on the unfolding battle before him. It was ugly to say the least. The Yevethan Thrust Ships were the primary threat presented by thier Black Fleet and thus, were Hus primary concern. "Prepare the Octs. Ion followed by Solid slugs"

In an instant, the several large Super-Heavy Ion Cannon Turrets began to rain hell upon the fleet of the Yevethan's, thier targeting carefully orchestrated to avoid hitting allied warships.

"General Treicolt, Commander Halcorr, Commodore Oliva" He cleared his throat to gain thier attention for they were no doubt engaged with the enemy. "The Titanica will attempt to disable the enemy warships. Don't worry, I got your back"

Vanguard | Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke | Frea Sheplin | Qell Auraeli
Saber | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Leon Gallo | Caldon Tenneth
Phantom | Westenra Mina | Olen Halcorr | Daz Farlander | Aeson Keel | Cynthia Alucard | Voldran Molf
Battle Group Kenobi | Constantine Oliva

 

[Caldon Tenneth]

Vanguard | Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke | Frea Sheplin | Qell Auraeli
Saber | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Leon Gallo | Caldon Tenneth
Phantom | Westenra Mina | Olen Halcorr | Daz Farlander | Aeson Keel | Cynthia Alucard | Voldran Molf
Battle Group Kenobi | Constantine Oliva

He should be terrified out of his mind right now.

This was not the first time Caldon had been in combat, but it was the first time he was in starfighter combat. He was afraid, but not of the enemy. No, he was afraid of letting down his squadron.

<The other squadrons are forming up for an attack run. You’re right, Three. Their best chance is us going first.>

<Good thing we’re in that position. Let’s put all power to thrusters, cut through the traffic as undetected as you can –– guard that trajectory –– S-Foils as soon as we’re on target. Pair off when we arrive so they have something less regulated to chase. Saber-1 and I will lead the attack.>

Seems like he was able to make a good enough impression. Caldon signaled a brief acknowledgement as he slid onto the wing of another X-wing. His display indicated it was Saber Seven.

<<“On your wing Saber Seven.”>> ( Leon Gallo )

He lined up to follow the leaders in, then began flipping switches to ready up for the attack.

“R7, prioritize shields and engines.”

A whistle of acknowledgement sounded from behind him as they roared in at the maximum power settings, S-foils splitting open when they were in range. Time to make them pay for their arrogance, Caldon thought dimly.

<<“Shadows out.”>>

He pressed the firing stud on his control stick, sending two Shadow Bombs out of his weapons slots. The high explosive canisters floated ahead without power for a bit as Caldon latched onto them with the Force, sending them hurtling towards the dockyards with a telepathic push towards the station, his aim true as they landed and exploded against the dockyard on contact.

He pulled away, turning to see his wingmate firing with his cannons before turning. He made a note to say something about it later as he keep his eyes up, looking for targets.