Eye For An Eye [Lords of the Fringe Invasion of Eriadu]

[HK-36]

@[member="Supreme Overlord Dredge"] @[member="Preliat Mantis"]
Location: Generator 1
Objective: Counter-Artillery Strike Against Vong Artillery Beasts, Moving Out Forces

"Payloads loaded."
The droid spotter sounded out and HK nodded,
"Fire, concentrate barrages on Vong artillery beasts."
His command was relayed by the Captain on the hill as more rockets shot out from behind them, led by the spotting droid's targeting laser they disappeared in crowd cover above the artillery beast positions.

And the yellow-green mist on their position lighted up and dispersed with flashes of brilliant lights and crimson flames. The gas was replaced with thick black smoke as an inferno was unleashed upon the Artillery Beasts, the barrages of rockets exploding, whether upon their bodies or anything the Vong would be able to come up with to shield them or intercept the rockets. Either way, flames and explosions would rage on Beast positions, choking the air and burning the ground beneath them.

The reflection of the flames and pillar of black smoke was seen in HK's photoreceptors as he nodded at the destruction.
"Alright, let us move out, we have more battles to fight."
HK gestured as Captain and spotting droid disappeared behind the hill, the rocket droids nodded as their rocket systems retracted back and they turned about, joining the rest of the forces to move out.

HK would send a transmission to Preliat while he was still around,
"Mandalorian Forces, this is Commander Iron Knight, leading group of Protectorate and Eriadu defenses, the Vong retreat has been cut by gas and explosives, if you wish to conduct a counter-charge to finish them off or capture prisoners, now is the time. My forces are moving out to join the Protectorate efforts at Generator One, may the Force be with you, over."

 

[Miles Varden]

Generator 2
TEAMMATES: @Noah Corek @Aeron Kreelan
ENEMIES: @Break @stardust @Alliera Verd @Alen Na'Varro, @Hannibal Oryen [SIZE=12.222222328186035px] @[/SIZE]Carré Inirial


Miles and his squadrons moved over the city, picking off any airborn threats they could. The Inquisitors were mopping things up quickly due to their speed, the Crusaders were carpeting the outer parts of the city where any stray Fringers decided to take an alternate route to somewhere. Miles and his Knights were trailing some Fringe dropships, tagging them with multiple shots, sending them into oblivion or spiraling to the ground. Word reached Miles that the the generators were hit, and flew to that area in support, eying the scanners for IFF tags, he lit up the area nearest the Fringe forces. Hoping to give them an extra OS factor. He swung his fighter around and began another strafing run.

 

[Cira]

TARKIN MEMORIAL CONFERENCE CENTER
Northwest Conference Room - @Cira, broadcasting; @Darth Kentarch and @Masamune Tametomo, negotiating with some planetary officials, businessmen, lobbyists, etc.

By now, a small batch of Omegan ground forces would be attempting to breach the doors of the Conference Center, having been en route since the initial broadcasting of the Lord to the Eriduian. It would only be some time before they arrived to the very room they were at.

But for now...

“I come from the Protectorate. I am the Protectorate.” Cira said plainly, for that is WHO she was, at it’s core, Cira was the life’sblood of the code and dream of the Omega Protectorate. Of what they could do. The vision embraced by the Disciple of Twilight code to defend those who would be taken advantage of with higher power.

She took another step closer, the action causing the blood that Rave had sent flying at her direction to lightly kiss the sweep of her hair, scattering like corseca gems along it’s length.

On a normal human, scattering upon their hair wouldn't have amounted to much, there were no nerves that ran the length of what would supposedly be dead cells.

Not on Cira. She felt it as if it had splattered upon her skin. As if suddenly burned by by acid, sinking and saturating the few strands it had come upon contact with.

It was then that the cries of horror and alarm. The facade was over, news of both the shield generators having been destroyed relaying to all the inhabitants of the planet just what they had been tricked into believing.

This was not a plan to liberate them from the Protectorate; this was an invasion. The cries served to hide the faintest intake of breath came to her then, her eyes narrowing. Her eyes gave a slight glance to the right, awareness coming to her.

However, her eyes quickly went up towards that of the Lord in front of her, as she simply said, “Your game is up.”

He would not be holding back now, he had no reason to. Cira knew that this was the most important time for what was to come; and she was ready.


It is what Omegans were trained for afterall. And she hadn't come unarmed to this meeting, her fingers hovering just over her hip...

 

[Dissero]

Welcome to the fray, my friends. There is more than a generator to deal with, as I am certain you can now see. I, Knight Adair, am within the facility now, and would appreciate not being blown apart into many tiny morsels for being in the wrong place. Confer with Na'Varro, if you can.

~ Dissero, loose your storm on the little army of our enemies that seems so eager to join us. I will tear the generator apart myself ... and don't fry me, or we'll be having some words regarding "overkill" ~

Generator 2 - @[member="Lucianus Adair"] @[member="Alen Na'Varro"] @[member="Carré Inirial"] @[member="Aeron Kreelan"] @everyone else
The Mission: Force storm all the [Protectorate] things.

He was surrounded by the power of the Force - a geist of blue lightning the likes of which fabled stories might've been told to young children at night. A black glaze cast over his eyes and seeped into his veins, drawing forth the corruption that ran a circle around the flesh of his neck - the tendrils like free and wild branches and roots, and though it was not visible to the others the man could feel the blackened mar painstakingly overtaking the skin of his shoulders, sternum, back and chest. He grinned as only he could, baring double sets of fangs in a broad-splitting grimace at the words of his associates in his mind.

No faith. No faith at all.

The man lifted his hands upwards and out, beckoning the surge of tumultuous clouds overhead, and with the most absolute sense of control pivoted slowly on his heel, fingers pulling at the unseen currents in the air with a great deal of effort and metaphysical weight, lancing strikes of lightning curving off his form as the beginning onslaught from the Protectorate soldiers bore down upon he and Carré. The energy surrounding him was too raw, too wild, and hissed at the spray of shrapnel, and it required all his concentration to maintain it. Dissero could not spare a concerned glance to the woman fighting at his side, nor could he usher sly remarks in rebuttal to his compatriots within the Generator.

His whole mind and being was bent on one thing: bathe the Protectorate forces in the power of utter desolation.

Fingers splayed as the hellish blue bolts crawled across his figure and licked along the currents of what powers Carré surrounded them in, Dissero set his sights on the approaching line of soldiers, droids and mecha. At his back gale force winds had picked up, pressing him onwards to his foes while it brought strain to their own push. With a horrendous crack of thunder that drowned into an almighty rumble through the skies, the clouds let loose at his will and dashed the field between their lines with a maelstrom of Force storm lightning. The strikes scoured deep, steaming scars across the land and slashed along the hulls of fighter crafts that dared pass beneath.

Pressing on with the assault, his will directed the spread of the storm forward towards the line of contest, and very soon it would reach those on ground. Jaw set, muscles screaming and the pang of a splitting migraine sitting at the base of his skull, Dissero pushed himself to maintain the storm.

It wasn't something he could do for long, but feth, he would lay waste to as much as possible, as long as possible.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

TARKIN MEMORIAL CONFERENCE CENTER
Northwest Conference Room - @[member="Cira"], broadcasting; @[member="Rave Merrill"] and @[member="Masamune Tametomo"], negotiating with some planetary officials, businessmen, lobbyists, etc.


The lady in front of Darth Kentarch, Cira, did not give him the answer he was looking for. He continued to search the room with the force, trying to find the Disciple. She mentioned that his 'game was over' and now the Lady Protector was going for weapon. "Stop." He said suddenly. "I could care little for the battle, the people of this planet, or you for that matter. Although your head on my mantle will make a fine prize. But we are here in a conference room with several dozen people, do you really think you can stop me from slaying them all?" Kentarch asked. "Make no mistake Cira, I will cut you down to size and walk over your warm corpse and slaughter them like cattle." His voice threatening.


However before things could escalate further a Fringe aide cut the tension between Kentarch and Cira when he walked up to the Sith Lord and in hushed tone explained that Omega Pyre troops were on there way to the conference center, along with the status of the ongoing battle. The debate was over and he had lost, however the generators had been knocked out, yet the fleet battle had turn sour. He turned to look at Cira, as much as he wanted to cut the hapless delegates to pieces to release his anger, he would have to save it for later. "Tell Rave Merrill I'm going mobile, I'm tired of all this senseless talk." His frustration more than obvious.

The Sith Lord turned and stormed out of the conference room and out into the streets. Nearby was the cloaked transport that the Fringe representatives had arrived on, Kentarch quickly boarded the ship and looked at one of the officers. "Situation report. now." Kentarch barked. The officer saluted and rattle off some non-sense about the fleet. "They have multiple dropships reinforcing their positions." The officer said while giving his report, Kentarch stopped him. "Can you give me those locations?" He asked. The officer nodded in response and quickly punched some quarantines into a data-pad. Handing it to Kentarch he pointed to the grid locations across the city. "Tell command I'm going to engage the enemies at these positions. I'll kill as many as I can." Finally, the bloodshed would begin. Using the force to help speed him along, he dashed out into the city.

 

[Aran Finn]

ATTENTION ALL FRINGE FORCES
ALLIES: @[member="Lucianus Adair"] @[member="Lord Dissero"] @[member="Hannibal Oryen"] [SIZE=12.222222328186035px]@[/SIZE]Carré Inirial

​

|@[member="Ayden Cater"] @[member="Jared Ovmar"] @[member="Captain Larraq"]|​

​

Na'Varro did not have to time exult in his success. His wrist-comm flashed, so he ducked behind duracrete cover and keyed it. A tiny, blue-tinged holo-projection of Praefect Galaskarita sprang up on the display ... the older man looked tense.

- Sir, all ground objectives are complete but Fleet has made a mess of things in orbit. They're getting turned into debris up there, and our Mando allies aren't much help. The Horde troops have been slaughtered, and Protectorate forces are closing on our positions. Fleet karked it, sir. -

Feth. Na'Varro didn't know the specifics, but he didn't need to. He knew exactly what the situation was, and it wasn't looking good. They didn't have the manpower to keep up the fight down here, they had no air superiority, and the fleet wasn't getting through anytime soon. All they had down here was valuable assets, assets they couldn't lose. His decision was quick and extremely painful, but it had to be done.

- Na'Varro to all Stealth Fleet ships, initiate stealth drives and get the feth off-world. No pick-ups, no assaults, just get out of here. Na'Varro to all remaining ground forces. We did what we came here to do, but not everything went right on the other end. We're stranded on-world until we can be extracted. Drop everything that marks you as Fringe and go to ground, our boys and girls will be back for us. Rig our tanks to blow if anyone touches them. Na'Varro out. - Alen sighed, switching off the encrypted Fringe channel, before opening one back up to Galaskarita. - Praefect, contact Fleet and get them to withdraw while the Mandos fight a rearguard. Their ships are faster. Then get to ground. Be safe. -

Despite their successes on the ground, this had been a tactical disaster. Na'Varro realised that he needed to learn how to use a fleet so that this would never happen again. It was embarrassing, and it hurt like hell. But there was no time to waste. Knowing full well that discretion was the better part of valour, the Fringe commander masked his Force presence and snuck away, waiting until he was a safe distance from Protectorate troops before stripping off his Katarn-class armour and showing the unassuming civilian clothing he had underneath. His lightsabers were discarded, everything that made him Na'Varro was gone. Moving off, Alen searched for a group of civilians to blend in with.

This hurt. It hurt even more knowing that when they wrote of what happened here today, part of this disaster would be blamed on him.

 

[HK-36]

@Supreme Overlord Dredge @Preliat Mantis
Location: Generator 1
Objective: Leading Counter-Charge with Infantry to take prisoners alive

HK was just about to disappear behind the hill completely as the announcement came in through their comms. The Fringe orbital forces were starting to pull out and the Generator 2 was lost either way.
"Halt!"
The droid commanded with a raise of his hand, troopers stopped as they looked to him.
"Change of orders, we are conducting counter-change, stun weaponry only against infantry, we take prisoners, we patch them up, we release them back to the Fringe, we are not murderers, we are Protectors."
With that he would summon his infantry squads back to the hill, letting his artillery units rest behind in case they would need some anti-armor support.

He would activate his lightsaber, the white blade shining as a beacon.
"Once we close in switch to infrared and lob in your smoke cover grenades, we are still not taking any chances."
"Yessir!"
The troops answered.

The droid would signal with his saber towards where the enemy positions should be
"Onwards!"

And so they would let out a rallying call as they charged forward towards the battle.

The fact that they regrouped behind the hill before the orders changed would give a pretty good chunk of Fringe forces enough chance to retreat out of sight, especially with all the smoke and dissipating gas cover about the battlefield. However, there were still those soldiers abandoned behind as result of the knock-out gas barrages, a mix of Vong troopers and normal Fringe troopers who could have been unlucky enough in the exchange of blaster and bolter fire to get their breathing apparatus damaged. Many of the Vong could have perished by now, as Dredge mentioned, seemingly even knockout gas was damaging to them.
Those Fringe forces that Dredge ordered to retreat beyond their artillery lines during the rocket gas bombardment would be most likely out of the tracking range of HK's forces, there would be no tracing them right now if they would drop anything marking them as Fringe to blend in as Na'Varro ordered.

 

[Velok the Younger]

TARKIN MEMORIAL CONFERENCE CENTER
Northwest Conference Room - @[member="Cira"], @[member="Darth Kentarch"] and @[member="Masamune Tametomo"]


The OP force breached the conference center's doors, and wound up smack dab in the line of fire of the two Fringe troopers outside the conference room hallway. Heavy BlasTech weapons roared to life, and Rave's head snapped around.

They were out of time.

Her comlink crakled inside her helmet; Alen Na'Varro's sitrep. The hollowness in her gut turned from vague to concrete. So they'd taken down the shields, but the fleet had failed. And, by the sounds of it, failed hard. Regardless of the Dzu'ari, regardless of the Mandalorians - feth.


"Masamune. We're done."

There was only one way or thing she could mean -- the spiral stair in the kitchen, leading to the elevated dining area. She signaled the stealth transport for pickup as she ran out onto the balcony. The two Fringe troopers would stop suppresive fire and follow as soon as Masamune followed Rave.

Rave began Force-scattering, casting her presence far and wide across the city, making her location impossible to pin down. This was going to be no ordinary exfil. To take a stealthed ship through secure territory at escape velocity was just asking to get gunned down on the way to orbit. If they got to the stealth ship, they'd have to move slowly, below mach one. A large portion of Eriadu was comparable to The Works on Coruscant; a good place to hide long-term.

 

[Masamune Tametomo]

All for nought, it seemed
To the swordsman, but
Their work, he gleaned,
Was yet completed.

Escape was the plan now,
Though from the noises outside
The attack here had begun, how
To repel the assault was simple to him.

He dashed from the room
And drew Eien no Kinkou
To engage those whom
Now threatened this place.

The flash of silver from the sheathe
And blood spurted high from severed limb.
A return stroke and the man ceased to breathe
As head bounced from shoulders.

Another flash and the bright
Flash of blaster fire reflected
From the blade and with slight
Adjustment impacted on the one who fired.

@[member="Rave Merrill"] @[member="Cira"] @[member="Darth Kentarch"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

LOCATION: GENERATOR TWO
OBJECTIVE: BEGIN TACTICAL ADVANCE AWAY FROM THE ENEMY

@[member="Lucianus Adair"] | @[member="Lord Dissero"] | @[member="Carré Inirial"] |

And so, Hannibal began to run. Away from the generator and towards... Somewhere. This was probably the worst invasion in the history of ever, though Hannibal only considered it so because he had not been on Metalorn. Kayri had been fun, though. He had beaten up people on Kayri. That had been a great time for everyone. Here? He spent this entire shindig staring at a door, waiting for mooks to come out of it and for further orders from the two space ninjas or whatever. No further orders came. Just an earthquake that nearly tore the building to pieces, forcing the Fondorian to dodge bits of debris and roof bits. No memo before that went down. There had also been no memo when Hurricane Dissero came blowing on through. This was why Hannibal hated space magic. They didn't use karkin' radios, like normal people. All those wizards ever did was talk to each other tele-communally. Or whatever it was called. Hannibal was not up to date on the exact lingo. It was doubtful he ever was.

Now the one time one of those wizards actually used a form of tangible communication, it was to screw Hannibal and everyone else still planetside. All the dropships were to disperse. No pick ups, no air strikes, just get on out of town. Where was the chivalry? Hannibal at least wanted to be wined and dined before this kind of crap happened to him. He had no idea where he was going and had no intentions of disrobing out of his current armor, even if it pegged him for a merc. He ditched his assault rifle, but kept the machine pistol. He wasn't leaving himself unarmed if he was going to be trapped in enemy territory for an unknown period of time. This was just the worst. From now on, Hannibal was taking his own ride to the surface. It would also be swell to remind folks that a basic rule for planetary invasions dictated that dominance in space had to be achieved before troops were landed.

Oh, but what did he know anyway?

Hannibal booked it into the city, looking for a way into the underlevels. That would be the optimal spot to hide until he could hijack a spaceworthy freighter or something. Hopefully he'd run into a friendly face or two somewhere along the line. Squatting in the criminal underground of Eriadu until the aftermath was resolved would be miserable, but at the very least he wanted to be miserable with good company.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Eriadu City Streets

Making good time towards his first target, Darth Kentarch came to an abrupt stop when Alen Na'Varro announced the retreat. For a moment fury overtook the Sith Lord, and in his rage he slammed his fist through a nearby brick to stem his rage. It was not just the defeat, but the fact that after all this time he would see no combat. Everything had been for nothing. Yet he had no one to blame but himself, after all it was Kentarch who lost the diplomatic meeting to the Lady Protector. His failure to convince the local politician to join the Fringe Confederation was a deciding factor, whether he wanted to admit it or not.


Glancing up he saw the stealth transport he arrived with @[member="Rave Merrill"] pass through the lower atmosphere. The shocking realization that he currently had no way to escape the planet came into his mind. Kentarch was a master of misdirection and using the force to conceal himself and remaining undetected for long periods of time. Yet hiding from entire mobilized fleet and army was something else entirely, after the Fringe retreated from the system the Omega Pyre would no doubt comb through the planet looking to detain the stragglers left behind to ensure there was no remaining resistance.


This gave the Sith Lord three options. One open an insecure communication frequency and ask for an exfil, which would pinpoint his location to the Protectorate troops. Two find a transport still on the ground and assist the land partying in escaping Eriadu. Or three, try and hide and wait out the storm. None of them were good options. None the less he would try the latter of three. Quickly he dashed to a residential district in one of the poorer parts of the city. As he passed into the shadows of the tall buildings he hid his force signature, and altered his appearance to look like a poor homeless man in a beat up brown cloak. Eventually he joined some of the other less fortunate residents of the district around a large metal trash can that had been set ablaze. He only hoped the disguise would work.

 

[Ayden Cater]

On Board the Starfall
High Orbit over Eriadu
@[member="Captain Larraq"]

Before the gravity well generators had spun back up (gravity couldn't be manipulated like a light switch after all), the Fringe fleet suddenly disengaged and turned to jump out of the system. Several more ships exploded, but the fleet didn't seem to care. As more and more ships jumped out of the system, the apparent truth became clearer and clearer. They were retreating. The Protectorate had won. Ecstatic cheers rang throughout the halls of the ships as the crew celebrated their victory. Kayri had been a humbling, almost humiliating defeat for the Protectorate. But then the Fringe turned the Republic away at O'Reen and suddenly some whispered that to be forced to a standstill against such an adversary might have been the best outcome.

But here, at Eriadu, the Protectorate had defeated the naval forces that had stopped the Republic war machine dead in its tracks. Here, they had made their stand and said "No." Yet even as many in the fleet celebrated, Ayden turned his attention around on the Mandalorian fleet. So close to the planet's gravity well, they would have been unable to jump so quickly. And their maneuvering, meant to speed them around the planet and get them into the fight as quickly as possible, meant that they would not be stopping so quickly. The celebrating died down as the crew turned back to the consoles and, almost as one, the Protectorate fleet turned its attention around to meet the Mandalorians head on. However, rather than simply hang in orbit, the fleet staggered itself in waves. Ayden had learned his lesson at Roche, and at Kayri. He was not about to invite the Mandalorian fleet to ram into his fleet so easily.

"Open a com channel." Ayden ordered as the Nebulon B9's gravity well projectors came online and locked on to the approaching fleet. "Mandalorian fleet. You are ordered to stand down and surrender yourselves for questioning. Failure to do so will be assumed to be an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Any attempts to flee the system will be seen as an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Any attempt to break our lines or fire upon our ships will be seen as an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Once again, you are hereby ordered to power down your weapons and engines, lower your shields, and surrender yourselves for questioning." Shield ships moved up to the forefront of the fleet, projectors charged and on standby to deploy on a moment's notice.

 

[Lira Dajenn]

Governors Estate
Nemene dodged the mans knee with a very ungraceful retreat, a few steps back saw the man only throw a few locks of her hair into the air. As soon as she managed to avoid the attack however a chirp in her ear alerted her of something, the Fringe retreat. Almost immediately she scowled, they were running? Cowards! The Sith lady looked at her opponent, and then towards Evelynn and and her opponent.

“Another time.” She said to the man before turning around and beginning to sprint away.

The Force flowed through her, her hair flipped at her sudden turn and her boots clicked on the ground as she passed by Evelynn. “Come come my pet!”

She called to Evelynn and then lashed out with her arm. She pulled her sister towards her with the force, yanking at her body with a hard jerk and hopefully placing her besides herself. Then Nemene began to run again.

 

[Louise]

GOVERNOR'S ESTATE, RUH ROH, SURRENDER?

Oh dear. Do you ever feel like you're in too deep?

The clash began and the woman had already begun to regret choosing to fight with sabers, his golden blade began to slide down and immediately she was fearful for her limbs. On a scale of one to ten in bad ideas this was challenging Ayden Cater to fleet combat.

His hand went to grab her wrist...and would find nothing to grab as Evelynn was jerked backwards by her sister's force pull.

Rude! But quite possibly life saving. She found herself by her sister's side, trying to get her bearings once again. Wait, they were running? Oh sith spit! Had the battle gone belly up? Consider me reconsidered, Jedi! She remarked telepathically as she too began to flee with Nemene.

@[member="Nemene Talith"], @[member="Vulpesen"]

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen twirled his sabers and placed him on his hip after deactivating the golden blades. On his face, he wore a lopsided grin, looking over at his past tormentors. "Til we meet again ladies!" He offered a polite bow that they likely wouldn't notice in their retreat, then walked up to @[member="Sarge Potteiger"]. "So, that went well." To be honest, that was likely one of the easiest matches he had ever been in. Of course, it was quite easy to see that the sisters had other focuses, and that while he might be good as sabers, he'd always lag behind in torture and "interrogation" techniques. Not that he wanted to learn their ways of course.

@[member="Evelynn"] @[member="Nemene Talith"]

 

[Arrbi Betna]

Betna swore as the lockon warning blared again. This pilot just wouldn't let up. He pushed the nose down and dropped nape-of-the-earth, avoiding engine damage but one of the shots, obviously turbocharged, spanged off the hull and forced him to adjust flight for the impact rather hastily. Once low enough, he dropped the second 500lbs flame carpet bomb which hit the ground and immediately kicked up a huge amount of fire, smoke, and ash, hopefully blocking the Mk I Eyeball that his opponent definitely had. Now going somewhat faster, he kept the engines maxed out and rapidly left the engagement area.

[member="Antillie Jenika"]

 

[Captain Larraq]

Rygel Larraq stood tall at the commander's station and waited. He waited on his ships to round the planet. He waited on his officers to report. He waited for return communication from the Fringe fleet. And he waited for his fleet's sensors to get a clear read on what was happening on the other side of Eriadu. All of which was taking too long.

Physical obstruction or not, they should have been able to bounce a signal off of an orbiting satellite by now and achieve secure communications with the Fringe fleet. In a few more moments though, it wouldn't matter. A small yellow countdown timer on the holodisplay ticked away as they neared the edge of the planet. In just a few more seconds, they would have a clear view of the battlespace over Eriadu and know what sort of fight they were in for.

Larraq held onto the safety railing with one hand and puffed away on his cigarette with the other. A crack of daylight played against the upper atmosphere of the planet. Sensors were beginning to chime away as contact after contact was picked up in medium orbit above the planet. In a few seconds, the computers would be able to pinpoint the exact location and strength of each contact and IFF frequencies would be picked up. “Hail them again.” Larraq said as he pointed towards the blob of contacts on the holodisplay, individual fleets still not recognizable in the first few seconds. The ambient magnetics of the planet, the speed and angle of their approach, these things had to be compensated for before the computers could separate the mass of contacts into two identifiable fleets.



Blinding light filled the forward windows and the ship shuddered under Larraq's feet. He lurched forward and his hip smashed into the metal railing of his station. “What the frell was that!?” Larraq called out to his bridge officers.

“Heavy Turbolaser. Lucky shot to the bridge. Shields down 30%.” Reported an officer.
“I'm not receiving damage reports for the rest of the fleet, but I'm sure they've taken fire too.” Reported another officer.
“Communications are being jammed, sir. All I'm getting is white noise.” Reported another.

Larraq took a drag from his... broken cigarette. Frell.

The forward holoprojector continued to display utter gibberish. There were three major fleet formations that they were detecting, but they still had no clear image of what they were facing or whose ships where whose. Even with interference from the planet, Larraq should have been looking at a clear display of the battlefield by now. Whatever was jamming them, it was jamming more than just their comms.

They were under fire, they have no idea what the tactical situation over the planet was, they couldn't communicate with the Fringe fleet, and they had no idea if the Fringe fleet was even still standing.

“Frell this.” Larraq said. “Signal the rest of the fleet to make for the north and south poles of the planet. Continue increasing speed and slingshot back the way we came.”

“Sir. Our communicators are jammed.” Protested an officer. “How am I to transmit those orders?”

“You should have learned this lesson at the academy son.” Larraq said to an officer that would soon be assigned to remedial training. “Ships have been communicating at range for far longer than we have had communicators. Blink the external lights of the ship using Dadita.”


Larraq was watching the two formations of his fleet split and make for opposite ends of the planet when a sizable portion of the mess on the sensors disappeared. A few moments later, and the jamming subsided enough for the forward Holodisplay to produce a clear image of the skies over Eriadu. It lasted for only a few moments, but it was enough for Larraq to understand the situation. The Fringe fleet had either been routed or destroyed. At this point, there was nearly no way for him to receive the rest of his payment for his participation in this battle. And worse still, he was far too outnumbered to make a good show of the capabilities of his ships. This entire operation had been a failure, and Larraq's forces had not even fired a shot.

Larraq was already preparing a bottle of scotch for himself when an unfamiliar voice filled the bridge of his ship.

----
"Mandalorian fleet. You are ordered to stand down and surrender yourselves for questioning. Failure to do so will be assumed to be an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Any attempts to flee the system will be seen as an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Any attempt to break our lines or fire upon our ships will be seen as an act of aggression and will be met with the full force of Protectorate might. Once again, you are hereby ordered to power down your weapons and engines, lower your shields, and surrender yourselves for questioning."
----

Larraq sat the bottle back down and stared at the speaker the voice had come from. “Signal the rest of the fleet while we still can.” Larraq said flatly to his communications officer, intending the officer to use Dadita (Morse code) to relay his commands. “Their orders are to continue maneuvers and escape this system at all cost.”

Gripping the railing with both hands, Larraq sighed and hung his head. “Try to open communications on the previous frequency.” Larraq said to the same officer after a moment. “Voice synthesizer number two please.”

After a few seconds of working at his console, the officer nodded to his Captain.

Speaking to whomever the protectorate spokesman was, Larraq voiced his response to the situation. “No offense, commander, but you'd have to catch me first. And I've already lost enough money today thanks to you. Tell me though, were my employers routed or destroyed?” [member="Ayden Cater"]

 

[Ayden Cater]

[member="Captain Larraq"]

Ayden sighed and shook his head. "Pursuit course. Weapons and tractor beams at the ready." The Protectorate ships all fired their engines and lumbered forward, quickly picking up speed to pursue the fleeing Mandalorian vessels. When he got a nod from his comm officer, Ayden spoke again. "Son, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I've got interdiction fields all over your ships. Now I'm sure you think your ships are the fastest ever, and I'm sure you think you've lost so much money over this dumb plan of yours, but do you really think you can outpace our interdiction fields? Or maybe you think you can dodge everything.

Son, do not make me chase you across the system, because I will. There's a lot more of me then there is you. And I promise you, if you make me do that I will rip apart every ship I catch. You think you've lost money now? Wait til your ships are debris fields to pay homage to your hubris. I will send every last one of your crew to prison worlds and leave them there to rot until I get an alternative from Mandalore. And in case it escaped your thought, I will be getting an audience with the Mandalore to sort out this business. Now if you stand down and cooperate, immediately and unconditionally, then you and your boys will eventually get to leave here as free men, as soon as I speak with Mandalore Skirata. If you don't, then I will grind your ass into dust. You have sixty seconds to respond."

 

[Captain Larraq]

Larraq held up his left arm and stared as his watch as he counted out sixty seconds. “Power down the guns and divert all available power to thrusters and aft shields. Order the rest of formation one to do the same and keep us tight on the planet.” Larraq said calmly with the time he had been allotted. At the fifty second mark he nodded at the communications officer and began speaking by the fifty five second mark. “I don't see why you think this has anything to do with Mand'alor Skirata.” Larraq said calmly. “He has no say on how I make my credits. We are a free people and can do as we wish. We go where business is good and fight for whoever offers the most.” Larraq said to [member="Ayden Cater"] as his watched what little his sensors were picking up.

The Protectorate fleet was breaking geosynchronous orbit and accelerating towards their position while Larraq's two fleet formations continued accelerating towards the north and south poles of the planet. They were wrapping around at an angle, thanks to the velocity they had previously gained from their slingshot maneuver. Larraq didn't quite have enough time to calculate what their exit velocity would be when they catapulted from the far side of the planet, but he knew it would be enough of a head start to get them the time they needed.

“What questions could you even ask me? You already know who hired us. You just wiped them from your skies.” Larraq said as he picked up his bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. “And if your hope is to get a name from me...” Larraq said before taking a sip of the amber liquid in his glass, “I was smart enough not to ask. So your head hunt will have to begin somewhere else.”

Larraq watched the holodisplay of the ships and fleets as they crawled across the surface of the planet or dove in from above. He watched as his fleet edged closer and closer to the pole of the planet, steadily accelerating as gravity and overcharged thrusters worked in tandem to pull his ships and his men further from the Protectorate fleet. The 'commander's fleet might be larger, and elements of it might be fast enough to eventually catch up with the struggling Kandosii Dreadnoughts, but they would have to contend with the planet long before they could focus their weapons and interdiction on Larraq's ships. All Larraq needed was time, and to stay close to the planet. At these speeds, moving at an angle from the Protectorate fleet, and with the distortions from the planet itself... The worst Larraq had to worry about was a scattered shower of Turbolasers.

Muting himself from the Protectorate Commander, Larraq turned and spoke to his crew. “Signal all ships to brace themselves. That man's not about to let us get away unmolested.”

For a moment, as his fleet skimmed across the surface of Eriadu, Larraq considered targeting the cities that dotted the landscape beneath him. The planetary shields were down and millions of civilian lives would make an outstanding bargaining chip to facilitate his escape... The thought was a fleeting one. The thought of causing a second apocalypse churned his stomach. No... Despite the merits of the tactic, Larraq would abstain from the 'at all costs' approach. He hadn't quite gotten the taste of the last genocide from his mouth yet.

Today... Today they would simply leave.