Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Nothing Personal, Just Business (Raid on Vjun)

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Alec Rekali had spent her share of time on Vjun in her youth, back when the Rekalis controlled Bast Castle. The clan had pulled back into the Roil since then, and evacuated most of its people and assets from the desolate city of Bitter End. She'd been there beneath acid rain, packing boxes and hanging Sith in an industrial-strength raincoat.

Now, as the Mandalorian battleship 'Like Hell' appeared in orbit, she looked down at the gloomy clouds and wondered why she'd ever left.

"All ships, engage any targets of opportunity. Shoot to cripple or ionize."

Vjun wasnt much for civilian traffic or military presence. It had a very low population. Recently, though, the Dominion had wiped out a Mecrosa Order presence and established Vjun as a critical link with the Mid Rim. The Clan Rekali fleet - several battleships, plus escorts - had its pick of civilian and military targets.

It made no transmissions, no blustering threats or demands. The customer had been fairly specific.


The barren planet offered little beyond acidic rain and dolefully named locations. In other words, perfect for a group of individuals who would rather not have their presence noticed.

Thengil did not quite understand the logistics of why a Tapani cult would operate out of Vjun, although it likely had something to do with noble families. Something about House Tritum and a millennia old marriage. Humans were strange.

In any case, the Cathar stood at the bridge of his ship as it prowled around Vjun space.

"Goldenmane, several Mandalorian ships are engaging with the Dominion's warriors."

The Togorians of the bridge crew turned to look at Thengil.

"Opportunity," he rumbled, "is best seized. Take us in."
On another day of acidic rain, Marrik was part of a stationed unit of Dominion troopers on Vjun. Wearing his Red Legionary armor and holding his energy bow, he was out on patrol when the klaxons roared. A small fleet of ships began to fire upon the planet.

Instantly reacting he ran to the outpost that was in charge of communications and sent out a ping to the Dominion CO's.

<<Mayday, Unit Aplha on Vjun installation is under attack. Mandalorian vessels numbering under a dozen. A singular vessel is coming down also. None have identified themselves. Request immediate assistance. Over.>>

Flying down the steps to the ground of the units barracks the commander was spouting orders, getting units mobilized for countermeasures. Long range AA guns and medical crews were deployed. Marrik moved to his squad and they hopped in a transport that would take them into the nearby city to set up defenses.

Moving up to a rooftop, Marrik pulled up the helmet's macrobinoculars to get a visual on the inbound raiders. He started recording to make sure everything he saw was captured for analysis.

[member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"] [member="Alec Rekali"]

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"] [member="Marrik Axiom"]

The Mandalorian ships took up a position in high orbit and focused their fire on other vessels, targets of opportunity. Not the planet so much: you couldn't disable a planet and drag it into hyperspace, after all. That fate was already befalling a handful of small freighters and patrol boats who'd happened to be near the Mandos' reversion point.

Two squadrons of tough little starfighters detached from the flotilla's screen and slashed down into the atmosphere. Their objective was to locate and, if possible, destroy any ground-to-orbit weapons, planetary shield generators, or other substantive defenses. The long-range AA guns would certainly qualify. Marrik would hear them before he saw them cutting through Vjun's omnipresent rain clouds. Laser cannons and basic warheads would do fine for this particular mission.

Arken Lussk

Thrills, Chills, and Kills
Caught in between a rock and a hard place once again.

The Dominion had been kind to him, they truly had, but Arken's place was not amongst their kind. Darius Sedaire had taught him well across these past few years and it was nothing short of phenomenal mentorship and training - but it just felt wrong. He didn't belong. Hell, even dad had said that long ago. Their kind were just different from everyone else. Kids at school liked to remind him of that as well: the fact that his father was one of the red-skinned true Sith while he was nothing but some off-shoot, off-brand poser.

In truth, he kind of missed it. At least he knew what he was going to be doing the next day.

The Miss Erray dashed across space, fleeing away from both the clashing Dominion forces and their attackers. Jarvis was the first to react, quickly leaping out of his co-pilot's seat to throw himself into the gunner's position.

Hopefully they'd make it out safely. Hopefully.

[member="Alec Rekali"], [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"], [member="Marrik Axiom"]

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Arken Lussk"]

A Tachyon-class light freighter, the skim milk of the transport world, was pretty slim pickings. Even so, two Mandalorian fighters detached from the defense screen's overlapping formations and accelerated to intercept. Unimpressive booty the little ship might be, but this operation was as much about sending a message as it was about capturing merchandise..

The two fighters didn't mount ion cannons. Instead, they aimed to take down the light freighter's basic shields and then slag its engines with precise laser fire. If they could cripple the ship or prompt an evacuation via escape pod, a Mandalorian transport could link up and drag the Tachyon into hyperspace.

From there, ideally, it would wind up in one of half a dozen places in deep space. Once boarded and cleared out, off it would go for salvage and reprocessing.

Assuming the fighters managed to catch and cripple it before it jumped to lightspeed, of course.

Arken Lussk

Thrills, Chills, and Kills
"Warning: Master, there are fighters tailing us." A pause. "Incoming fire."

Nearly half a second later, the entire vessel rocked. Two loud pangs rang out across the vessel, nearly making the little freighter lurch out of its predetermined course. Stang. The hyperdrives were already charging, but the shields were already drawing too much power from the generators. He could only choose one, or both with very little power to each of them. The crimson streaks that flashed across the cockpit didn't make deciding that much easier either.

"Fire back!" Arken cried, veering the freighter back onto its course. Straight to Shushugaunt, then to Serenno. "Get 'em!"

Jarvis had been firing back even before his master had given the order. Still, it felt a little refreshing to vocalize his apparent "control" over the situation. The Erray's single dorsal turret pumped out as much firepower as it possibly could, droid-like precision guiding the bolts towards their pair of tails.

Klaxons wailed, the shield meter indicated dangerously low integrity. Another hit like that and they'd probably be scrap metal.

[member="Alec Rekali"]

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Arken Lussk"]

Laser fire shredded one Mando fighter, punching through shields, armour, and hull in a matter of heartbeats. The other fighter closed the gap but spent its time spiraling behind the freighter. Apart from the occasional cannon shot, it didn't shoot back just now. Its goal was to get a better idea of the weapons emplacements and their fields of fire. A lucky shot took its forward shields down to half: a flick of its pilot's thumb set all its shield strength to forward.

The big question now.was whether the freighter could jump in time, or whether the fighter could analyze its fields of fire and find a good safe spot to take the right shot.

Arken Lussk

Thrills, Chills, and Kills
"Report: They've stopped firing!"

This was their chance. Arken's heart raced, beads of sweat forming on his brow. One last chance to pull all of the subsystem power and divert it to the hyperdrives. He glanced to the side, stretching out a hand. The invisible hand of the Force heeded his calling, pulling down two levels on the terminal. Energy reserves in both the weapons and the shields drained, filling the reservoir of the hyperdrives.

Their course had already been calculated. The second the energy meter filled, he'd make the jump.

Craning his head back to the front, he focused on flying this engine taped to a cardboard box.

Jarvis kept up the fire, though the green bolts that he sent at the fighter became lighter in color and degraded in velocity. The telltale sign of depleted power.

[member="Alec Rekali"]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Location: Castle Bast[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Graaaaggghhhh.... Invaders..." Causstik muttered as he stared into the skies as if he could see them. Causstik was approached by his second Crossk and the Trandoshan placed fist to heart promptly. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Chieftain. Your orders?" Crossk growled[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Activate the newly emplaced shields around the Castle. Ready the Hyper Velocity Cannons," Crossk nodded and ran off to do his war chief's bidding.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Deep within Castle Bast a great rumbling stirred as several shamans began to beat on hide drums. Archaic power generators manned by prisoners of war were activated and they pushed the great turbines that powered the shields. Trandoshan beaters wandered the lines of slaves and whipped any who were to slow viciously. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"FASTER DOG!" Roared a whip wielding behemoth of a Trandoshan as his whip fell upon the bare flesh of the prisoners back.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]As the turbines turned the shields activated and formed a bubble around the castle. Their was a gap between the ground and the shields that was protected by the walls of the castle. The Shields went down for a moment as the massive HVC guns barked salvos of death into the air above. Once the firing stopped the shields resumed and the Trandoshan warriors let out tremendous roars of approval. Great war beast lined the walls of the castle accompanied by hundreds of Trandoshan warriors. Causstik walked through the grand halls of Castle Bast to the throne room where the resident owner lay. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Mistress defenses are in place and the barrage has begun," Causstik growled and bowed lowly to the Sith who sat before him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Grace Darkson"][/SIZE]
[member="Alec Rekali"]
[member="Marrik Axiom"]
[member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]
Who called in the fleet?
Indomitable-class Star Defenders Kark No, Screw You, Feck Off, Timothy
Antilles-class Star Defenders Hell No, Death, Hades, The Senate
Horn-class Escort Cruisers Never, Gonna, Give, You, Up, Darude, Sandsorm, Mom's Spaghetti

Thranta Mk II-class Patrol Frigate Acini di pepe, Anellini, Campanelle, Fusilli, Bucatini, Tortellini, Cannelloni, Tagliatelle, Ravioli, Rigatoni, Gnocchi, Penne, Farfalle, Fettuccine, Orecchiette, Pappardelle

High above Vjun a Dominion fleet reverted into real space and began to assess the situation, a fistful of battleships plus their escorts had began to break off and attack their chosen targets, Bartic was fortunate to be nearby with such a large fleet when the destress call came in. Fresh off the production lines and newly commissioned into the navy, most of the ships did not have official names yet and were still operating under the temporary names given to them by the dock workers.

Bartic opened up a channel to the Dominion forces on planet, "This is Director Myth'rand with the 22nd Expansionary Fleet, we've revised your distress signal, I need a full sit-rep."

[member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Grace Darkson"] [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"] [member="Marrik Axiom"] [member="Arken Lussk"] [member="Causstik Rahn"]

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Arken Lussk"]

The Dominion fleet's arrival prompted some of the farthest-flung hunters to pull back. The last fighter tossed a couple of shots his way and turned to leave. Sensibly enough, it took an erratic path and equalized shields. There'd be nothing worse than getting shot down from behind by a fleeing cardboard transport. Arlen was now free and clear to jump.

[member="Causstik Rahn"]

Two squadrons of Mandalorian starfighters had headed into the atmosphere, hunting defensive sites just like the ones that now powered up at Bast Castle. The fighters assessed the situation as less than ideal: their warheads probably wouldn't break an area shield of that magnitude.

Fortunately, Clan Rekali had a long history with Bast Castle, and the huge facility's base stood in a region of dense and twisting canyons. The fighters slipped into those canyons at relatively low velocity. Finding a section of wall, they set about trying to make a breach large enough to fire through - beneath the shield's rim.

Meanwhile, the hypervelocity guns bracketed the Mandalorian fleet with ease. One cruiser broke in half and vanished in a fireball. The flagship, the notorious 'Like Hell', took a punishing impact, but the shields held for now.

[member="Bartic Myth'rand"]

The Dominion fleet had the edge in firepower, no question about it, but those Omega Protectorate designs had been kicking around for the better part of two decades. Alec identified them as part of the generation that concentrated quite a bit of firepower in spinal mounts.

The smaller, nimbler Mandalorian fleet accelerated, aiming to get in among the Dominion vessels where the hypervelocity guns, both ship and surface, would be useless.
Nobody would have expected an attack on Vjun. The planet was so out of the way and unimportant that it seemed unreasonable to go for it.

Thus, when the mandalorian fleet came to them, Grace was sitting in her chair, which may or may not have been a throne at some point, (which was probably why there was no desk), reading from some book and trying to get comfortable. Papers and notes were scattered around everywhere, and when [member="Causstik Rahn"] entered, she had her legs draped over one of the legs with her back propped up on the other. A finger dug into her nostril, and she had almost managed to dig out something when the Trandoshan spoke. She startled, to engrossed to have heard him come in.

"Any idea who it is?" She ask, swirling her legs down so she could stand. There was a bark as the hypervelocity cannons fired their volley. Shaking her head, and not waiting for a reply, she stormed to the control room. As she entered, the operator in charge of the radio looked up.

"Director Myth'rand has entered space, and is engaging the enemy. He's asking for a sit-rep." She nodded for him to continue before heading over to the woman in charge of the castle's automated defenses as a blast shook the castle.

"What was that?" Her voice was a growl, and the woman shuttered.

"Not sure ma'am."

"Well, find out, then!" She barked, causing a visible flinch. "See if you can get anything in the air. They'll want to silence those guns."

[member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Bartic Myth'rand"] [member="Arken Lussk"][member="Marrik Axiom"] [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]
Aimlessly wandering the castle halls, humming a tune perhaps just a half a step away from its original key, Cairyn was quick to find [member="Grace Darkson"] when he heard the first canon, a hopeful grin wide on his face. "Is it play time? Oh please let it be play time, no one's any fun around here."
Marrik's squad set up de females in the streets of the city. Some had surface to air missile launchers and were targeting the dispatched fighters. The AA guns on the ground back at the barracks were firing their payloads into the air. The raider's fighters weren't going to take the ground forces so easily. The Dominion was a conglomerate of multiple armies. There were Mandos, Imperials, Jedi and Sith, each with their own sets of skills.

Marrik's squad was doing their fair share at fighting off the fighters. The missiles were taking a handful of them out while the others fired with repeaters and did what they could to move the civilians out of the way.

<<They're targeting ships, ground all nonessential ships until we can secure the skies. Scramble all fighters we have. Pilots, take back our skies.>> The call came over the radio from command and pilots from all over the planet moved to their respective units.

TIE fighters, X-wings, and bears, oh my. All assortments of fighters and interceptors rose from their hangars and engaged the Raiders.

<<Director Myth'rand, this is Ground Command, a small fleet of what appear to be Mandalorian vessels have set upon the planet. They appear to be targeting any and all ships in the sector. All shots appear to be disabling by intent. It would seem that they may be intending to salvage whatever they capture. Request immediate response.>>

[member="Grace Darkson"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Bartic Myth'rand"] [member="Causstik Rahn"] [member="Arken Lussk"]
The Whistle

The darkness lit up with the streaks of ionic blaster fire and energized electrons sent out to destroy other ships. Broken men doing broken things, each with a dystopian image of their future in mind. Perhaps they feared death? Fear what was to come if they were to perish in their gambit amongst the blackened vacuum of space?

The Slave offered a low and careful whistle, letting it float like a dove through the cockpit of his customized canopy. His ship had been ripped apart to better allow his comfort for what he planned; a sudden and violent plan that would bring him one step closer to his goal.

Song tunes carried themselves lightly, each trailing the thin air as he put on his helmet; a gift he had received from the Sunwing Defense Fabrication company, yet he never ceased his cheerful symphony. It brought him joy as he weaved and bobbed, pieces of metal shredding off ships in grand chunks only to float endlessly into space. To forever be given a life of loneliness amongst the stars.

They wouldn’t be the only ones today.

A leg came up to brace himself as he held onto the controls of his ship. His target ship had come into sight, covered in a living shield of Pananthan Soldiers, likely owned by [member="Darth Carnifex"] at some point. Their lives meant nothing, and each struggled for freedom from their glass coffins as The Slave pressed his throttle forward; afterburners kicking in as his engines hummed.

With a crescendo, his ship made contact with [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]. Like an artist painting the sky, colors broke free in sharp reds and yellows; each a separate and contrasting beauty that gave a momentary glance into what was to come. They would all see what was to come in due time, and that trailing whistles that carried themselves out into space like ghosts of the long deceased were only the first sign of revelations.

Only the first trumpet to be played in a coming apocalypse.

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Marrik Axiom"]

To scramble fighters from a cold start would take long minutes, time that the Dominion forces didn't have. They got lucky, though: the Mando fighters made a couple of passes, raining cannon fire and warheads on the long-range guns and any visible non-combat ships rather than the military airfield. Of the two squadrons, eight ships took the brunt of the guns and the occasional shoulder-fired missile. The remaining sixteen Mando fighters accelerated away toward Bast Castle and the surrounding canyons. Their goal was to draw the Dominion fighters after them so that the other two squadrons, concealed in the canyons, could take a swing of their own.
[SIZE=11pt]Causstik nodded to the resident Sith lord and dismissed himself from the throne room. He walked through the grand halls marked by endless pillars and ornate chandeliers. Causstik hadn't heard the barking of the guns and growled in anger. He marched through narrow corridors and up a flight of stairs to the top of the castle where the guns were mounted. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ragh! Why have the cannons stopped! Continue to fire!” Causstik cried out. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Then he noticed the source of the disturbance.The chief gunner was fighting with a cannon loader. Causstik marched to the pair and grabbed them both by the scruff of their neck and threw them over the top of the castle. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Their will be no kallik Challenges during battle!” Causstik roared. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The rest of the Trandoshans merely stared after the falling Trandoshans who landed on the ground below with a tremendous splat. They let out roars of laughter and approval at the sight of gore.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Get back to your post!” Causstik roared and the laughter ceased. “Fire again!” Causstik cried out. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The shields went down and the Hyper Velocity Cannon’s barked another salvo, slinging slugs of molten death into space. Then Causstik’s second was by his side once more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Sir we have reports of incoming fighters,” Crossk growled[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ready the war beast. Use their cannons as AA guns,” Causstik replied angrily[/SIZE]

[member="Alec Rekali"]
[member="Grace Darkson"]


The King of Ergonomic Assessments
Meanwhile, just back on Vjun en route for Krayiss II, Yula realized that she had to fly yet another combat sortie in her fighter, equipped with 8 concussion missiles, while on patrol in the acidic canyons of Vjun, for some unidentified party using several squadrons of fighters has attacked the planet. Already the long-range anti-aircraft cannons and other SAMs, including the newest battery of 36 Hwacha MLRS units, loaded with short-range SAMs not unlike those used by the Primeval army on Irn, were being activated near the castle, after the loading of the tubes being much longer than anticipated. That was brought to bear alongside the shields, such as those [member="Causstik Rahn"] brought in tow. While Yula was grateful for the Dominion military having deployed some anti-aircraft help, any reinforcements from [member="Marrik Axiom"] or even [member="Cairyn Midore"], [member="Grace Darkson"], to say nothing of [member="Bartic Myth'rand"], she was on her own, finding herself decloaking behind a flight of what her sensors showed as being Mandalorian fighters, in the canyon. Now a few bursts of 20mm hypervelocity, high explosive armor-piercing (HEAP) rounds are fired at the closest fighter in a stern chase, where HVCs (or laser cannons) are more efficient than a missile.

[member="Alec Rekali"]


In the midst of the chaos, a refitted prison ship churned down, careful to maintain distance from the Mandalorian vessels. Strange pustules lay scattered across its hull, as if the ship lay under the affliction of some plague. A coating of sensor-warping reflec paint gave the surface a dark cast, light never seeming to quite shine on it directly. Not that there was any light in the gray, swollen skies of Vjun. Emblazoned upon the starboard side of the hull were four claw marks. The ancient symbol of pirates.

If the symbol did not make meaning clear, the ship's actions soon left no doubt of intentions. Two fleeing transports found themselves arrested by tractor beams. Lancets of blue and yellow spat from the corsair, raking them bow to stern. Shields flickered out and the ships sparked with a faint azure glow. Null-burst projectors blared, knocking the crew of the freighters senseless. Harpoons shot out, piercing the hulls of both, and tying them fast to the large corsair.

Thengil eyed the chaos around him through the corsiar's forward viewport. The question plain. Seize what they had and leave, or aim for larger prizes?

Suddenly, the deck quaked as beneath a tectonic tremor.

"What was that?"

"A small fighter pierced our deflectors and crashed into one of the living shields. Shall I search for survivors, Goldenmane?" purred Rakhad. The murder in his eyes said their would be none.

Thengil cocked his head slightly. "No, Redclaw. I sense..."

He chuffed irritably.

"I will deal with this. Mokir, keep our distance from the Mando'ade."

The Cathar slunk toward the bridge's exit. He wore an exosuit and his gauntlets, but not else. Nothing more would be required.

* * *

Prowling through the cellblocks, he felt the intruder's presence. The imprisoned Panathans who sat in the cells jeered at him. His lips turned up in a snarl. False confidence. He could smell their fear. They were afraid he would take them and place them in the bubbles of the living shield, like their comrades. And they would be, eventually.

The closer Thengil drew to the site of impact, the stronger the scent of burning plastic became. He smelled something else too, barely noticeable beneath the stench of burning aviation fuel and smoke.


[member="The Slave"]

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