Skirmish Operation Sundown: Tempo of War | LS & Jedi vs. GE

[Ikuma Ashina]

OPERATION SUNDOWN

<<He’s strong, Ikuma...>>

"I noticed," Ikuma muttered through clenched teeth, though with a closed commlink and the sounds of blades clashing, no one could hear him.

As their duel continued, Ikuma could feel his opponent's power steadily increasing. It was a familiar feeling, a byproduct of a technique his Father had demonstrated but refused to teach him. All of Ikuma's hostility was being siphoned, repurposed into raw faculty, and then turned against him. All of his mentors had warned not to give in to such raw aggression, but there was no room to let up here. Any moment spent finding that elusive, offensive serenity would be another opportunity for the crimson blade to cleave at his neck. He was damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

A surge in dark power rippled through the force. Before Ikuma could react, he'd already fallen victim to the Imperial's deceptive maneuver. Pain seared the far side of his cheek, carving a shallow trail upwards just below his eye. His jaw clenched, unable to properly exclaim the sound that welled up in his throat. His eyes watered immediately, effectively blinding him for the moment. Adrenaline, resolve, and defiance coalesced in an instant, allowing him to push through the pain and adjust for retaliation. He relied on the Force to aim his thrust, a fatal blow through the left lung. At least, it would have been, were it not for the boot that swiftly struck him in the gut.

Both knees crashed down onto the ground. His lightsaber scraped the durasteel panelling, leaving a wide, black swath on the ground as he swayed back to one foot. A labored exhale preceded a single, hacking cough.

<"Submit...if you wish to live, Jedi.">

"Heh." Ikuma rose slowly, looking up toward the knight with a cauterized streak still sizzling lightly across his face; the eye above the wound still squinting. "Cheap trick, and you only managed a scratch. Not very convincing," his voice was strained from lack of air, hiding any strokes of fear in his tone. A deep breath sputtered weakly into his diaphragm. He wouldn't submit; he still had a few of his own, yet to be exposed.

Breathing heavily, he managed to get vertical again. His saber pointed forward, a variation of his previous guard. Stubbornly, he approached again and began another clash. A sneaky gesture between parries called on the Force, pulling a crate from behind the Imperial and sending it sliding at high speeds towards him. Ikuma initiated a bind, only disengaging to flip overhead once the crate was imminent across the back of his opponent's legs.

_____________________________________________________

Wymar
​

 

[Tilon Quill]

apparently Tilon Quill Tilon Quill and Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain were causing quite the ruckus as the Balmorran Defense Force arrived and began to seige the landing zone.

He did not have time about sending more units to back them up as an explosion rocked the Arms Factory,

BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD
ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS

Up in the cramped bridge, fiddling with the shields and re-evaluating whether to turn them on, Tilon wasn't feeling impending bombardment but didn't trust his instincts. The Force was weak with him for the most part. Right now he figured he should take the risk and leave the shields down to give friendly raiders and casualties access to the freighter's cargo bay.

Motion exploded across his terminals as the aftermarket cameras picked up a serious incursion from multiple angles. Blasterfire flared bright and kept flaring - it dimpled and discolored the bridge viewports an arm's length from his face, and the noise of it carried up loudly from the cargo bay. Balmorran soldiers in greenish carapace armor were taking control of key vantage points. With most of the Jedi and allied forces busy on the mission, contesting this development wouldn't be possible right away. Status lights blinked red as, systematically, the troops killed Tilon's remaining autoturrets.

"Shield on!" he yelled back, checking the camera view of the bay ramp to be sure nobody was in danger from the shield going up, and turned the shield generator on. Balmorran weapons fire thunked against the energy field with a muted, underwater sound. He would have to drop the shield briefly and precisely whenever he needed to let people in. (OOC/ Feel free to write that Tilon lets the shield down to let people in and out.). He kept his eyes on the monitor screens and his hands on the shield controls. Not much else could be done.

Shavvit. Kornon and Thalen Dhorain — he scanned the camera feeds — were they inside or outside the freighter's shields?

 

[Thalen Dhorain]

Tags: Tilon Quill

Whip, wrap, drag. Whip, wrap, drag. That was Thalen's main routine right now as he kept lashing out with the water, dragging those injured towards the shuttle. Sure, they might get some nasty rash from being dragged across the ground but a rash was much better than death. At least Thalen thought that was the commonly believed opinion. Death wasn't entirely something that he was worried about himself. But his order had been to look after himself, so the Jedi kept himself in cover. Well...he wasn't exactly a Jedi. It wasn't a title he had claimed for himself but that was semantics.

<<Thalen, good work; I do see a wounded at your nine ‘o clock, a little far off, if you can manage to get to him.>>

He turned his head over towards the side, the smile on his face still not faltering for a moment at the update from Henna Ashina . Instead he whipped his arm forward to send the tendril of water around the leg of the wounded, giving them a thumbs up with his spare hand alongside a wide toothy grin. Maybe he looked like he was enjoying this far too much. But Thalen wasn't. He didn't quite really enjoy anything at the end of the day. Either way, the wounded was dragged along the ground and brought into the hanger.

"Hey. You can still walk right? Good. Start getting those who can't move into the shuttles."

Thalen clapped his hand onto the shoulder of the man he had just pulled into the freighter...before he stepped out himself. If Tilon was about to put the shields on, there was no way that Thalen would be able to keep dragging people in with the water, which he deftly brought back into his quarterstaff, before flicking the point closed. Water was too good to waste after all.

For now, he worked on moving from cover, to cover. Using the blaster carbine he had borrowed from the freighter to throw a few shots down range. It wasn't as if he was trying to take down the entire militia or anything though. It was more to give him a chance to move to one wounded raider and move them along. Bringing them back to the freighter before getting ready to head out and grab another one. If the Force Willed it, it would let him get one more. And then one more after that.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

‘Bout time: Corr
You a demon or somethin’?: Meliant


Actin’ without thinkin’ had its consequences, a lesson Talin never seemed to learn. Water still clouding her vision, she couldn’t see the need to dodge, and her senses betrayed her. The explosion meant to wack her opponent caught her instead, flying metal debris catching her left arm. A cry went out, like a bantha bein’ branded. She rolled her shoulder, probing; stiffness and pain rippled down to her fingertips.

At least she didn’t have to take him alone. When her attention turned back to the fight , she noticed Corr - a sight for sore eyes. His presence gave her the strength to grit her teeth, take a step toward to join his side.

“Heh. Late to the party.” Snark lacked the usual enthusiasm.

Eyebrows rose when the padawan noticed her opponents wounds - no blood, but dancin’ black tendrils. Freaky… but kinda cool? Man, if she made it out alive, Tansu Treicolt sure was gonna be jealous.

Then it was go time. Her movement was slower than it had been, and less graceful too as she compensated for her left arm. She balanced the load across her entire body, moving towards her armored foe with fancy footwork, one hand spinnin’ her saber and feelin’ him out - only to open the door for Corr.

 

[Shinzou Ashina]

[ Theme ]

Shinzou Ashina

| Location | Balmorra​

| Objective | Disruption and Babysit​

​

Shinzou's gaze observed the Cleric as they used their staff to knock the first of his sabers off to the side, the blade whirling off course behind the Kissai. Sith Alchemy. Figures... He thought to himself as he watched his second saber was deflected by an energy shield, bouncing off the shield as it went arcing over the Cleric and past them. Tools to keep his opponent protected from both close and long range - but seemed more keen on making sure they could attack comfortably from range.​

​

"Don't you worry about what tricks I have. Take your eyes off me and you might find yourself with less than me." The Atrisian made a gesture with his hand as if adjusting the brim of his hat, a subtle gesture that sent a ripple through the Force as both sabers started boomeranging back at him. His gaze locked on the Cleric, eyeing the gesture they made with their fingers. No doubt another problematic attack from ranged getting readied. What he couldn't tell, but it certainly was enough to keep him alert, but he would find out soon enough.​

​

Shinzou let one of his feet slide out in an arc along the ground, widening his stance as his cloak billowed, the hilts of two sheathed blades briefly revealing themselves, a hand already clasped around one as he unsheathed the blade partially, readying it. His heel dug briefly into the ground as he drew in a sharp breath before launching himself at Rhaec'Teth, intent on reaching the Kissai at the same time his sabers would return for an attack that came from three angles.​

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Rhaec'Teth​

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[Rhaec'Teth]

Allies: Galactic Empire; Drachmas Venti , Zethran Cott, Meliant , Imperius Indomitus
Enemies: Everyone Else; Shinzou Ashina ​

---

The Molecules in the air between them had aggravated creating an invisible field around the Cleric. On its own this meant nothing.

The Staff, acting as more than it appeared would maintain this alteration of the force. Effectively it allowed the Kissai to multitask. He needn't maintain concentration to maintain a manipulation of the force he already coerced.

Nothing occurred. Not until Shinzou Ashina launched himself at Teth. At that moment everything would become fire.

Air molecules, already aggravated created friction at a microscopic level against the contours of the Artisian as he came at the Cleric. The Oxygen in the air was the accelerant. Shinzou was to be the flammable material. Against someone walking, even moving slowly the combination of friction and accelerant would be minimal, unnoticeable but to launch one self with intent combined with the friction of the aggravated molecules could cause someone to erupt in flame.

It might manifest as blistering skin, the friction creating heat as it reached the combustion point before fire exploded filling the atmosphere.

At that point it should become clear why the Cleric had been happy to maintain distance between them.

Nonetheless the Artisian had come at him. Teth's focus remained on the swordsman, the lightsabers had already proven ineffective against the energy shield but something else---something more substantial.

His left hand raised, telekinetic force extended from it towards the Artisian to throw him backwards before he could come within striking distance. Regardless the lightsabers, sheered across the shell of the energy shield that the Cleric cloaked himself in. They might not penetrate it but the impact would send Teth crashing down onto his hands and knees...

"Graaarghhh!"

...his mouth opened, spittle dripped from his maw while his eyes narrowed. Even small injuries labored the Kissai though looking up from down on hands and knees something primal seemed to radiate from the depths of his gaze...

"Yes, it seems you do."

...his voice was something in between a grunt and a snarl. He'd tense the fingers of his left hand on the ground though, preparing to manipulate the force through it.

 

[Corr]

"Better late than never, eh?" His smirking face held something of a wince, seeing the wounded arm.

Turning with a flourish of his lightsaber and readjusting the grip in his palm, Corr began facing their opponent. Seeing their opponent's slashed and searing flash bubble over with black, grasping tendrils caused Corr to wince some more, though with a furrowing brow that spoke only of disgust. Gross.

"You sure know how to pick 'em."

He rushed in with the opening barrage, swinging high with that blue blur of a blade, intent on leaving those lower openings for Talin. Though something told him that killing this one wouldn't be so easy.

Meliant - Talin Treicolt

 

[Kornon]

The other guardians had spread out, causing chaos in the facility such that Kornon advanced, for a time, unimpeded. This factory had once served as a fortress. He understood why -- the mazelike interior had him turning and twisting, from small corridors to long production halls. But his senses were undeterred, and he forged onwards, until he reached the edge of the factory's heart.

The Barabel was tough to fool, even in total darkness he could feel the enemy ahead. At the centre of the long forge-hall stood an imposing figure, thrice his height and certainly as tough. Kornon drew his saber once more, but the lights flashed on as the entire hall lit up its production line again -- a split second distraction, long enough for a sonic blast to send him flying into the wall to his left.

The war-droid's twin dropped from above, half-bending to show its missile launchers, but the Force had shielded the Jedi Master well enough. He tore through the debris and pain, saber flying forward and arcing through the droid's shoulder mounts. The other droid raised a hand, a wave of heat rolling ahead to Kornon; he drew the Force to himself again, perfecting his body temperature before his scales were scorched off. In one quick motion he replied, flinging his hunting knife through the air at the droid's center optic; by the time it reached its target, it was superheated, slashing straight through the droid's head.

That was not enough -- it stumbled back, disrupted but not dead, in time for its companion to fire off another blast from its bellower cannons. Kornon met it with a telekinetic blast, but the force sent him skidding away, and again as the droid fired once more. But by then his saber was back in hand, and Kornon charged, forcing his way forward in a brutal advance, hand raised to guard himself against the sonic fire. The blinded one fired off secondary sensors, grenades fired from its chest, but Kornon's hand rose, grabbing them out of the air and sending them careening into the droid's twin.

And there was his opening, as the latter droid stumbled with the shockwave from the grenades. The Barabel charged, sliding low to slash the droid's legs. The first cut was resisted, but a more concerted effort severed the droid's leg at the knee, and then he was on top of it, hacking away at its exposed weapons, until the droid slumped, a husk, ready to be melted down once more for another purpose.

The other droid fired again, this time a frigid cold washing over Kornon, and though it slowed him, he could not be stopped. He pulled his knife to his hand, and marched through the frozen hall. The droid took one step back, then another, but he was inevitable.

Drachmas Venti ​

 

[Tilon Quill]

For now, he worked on moving from cover, to cover. Using the blaster carbine he had borrowed from the freighter to throw a few shots down range. It wasn't as if he was trying to take down the entire militia or anything though. It was more to give him a chance to move to one wounded raider and move them along. Bringing them back to the freighter before getting ready to head out and grab another one. If the Force Willed it, it would let him get one more. And then one more after that.

BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD
ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS

Up in the bridge, flickering the shields on and off as rapidly as search-and-rescue required and incoming fire allowed, Tilon commed Henna Ashina on the old encrypted fractal radio he'd had installed.

"Command, Quill. Cargo is seven crates of weapons, twelve injured — four seriously — and all inside the getaway shuttles just in case. Balmorran soldiers control the landing pad perimeter and we're starting to take heavier fire. All autoturrets non-functional, shields at sixty. Dhorain's probably saved half a dozen lives at this point but our exit position is not sustainable without support or cracking those crates open."

 

[Shinzou Ashina]

[ Theme ]

Shinzou Ashina

| Location | Balmorra​

| Objective | Disruption and Babysit​

​

Shinzou tensed as he drew in a sharp breath, already feeling something very off as he flung himself towards his opponent. The air became alight as he felt himself catching fire, his haori wreathing him in flames as the Cleric played his trick. He grit his teeth as he felt his skin blister and begin to burn as the flames intensified, his free hand grasping the edge of his burning haori, twisting his body as he leapt forward. ​

​

A wild burst of flames as he spun flashed, belching dark smoke and obscuring the Ashina swordsman as the Cleric moved to push him with the Force. The wave collided with the spiraling mass of flames that was fast approaching the Kissai, throwing back the burning mass as the pile was blown to the ground, a mass of flaming cloth and burning straw hat, oddly enough without the Ashina who wore them, having used the haori of fire as a distraction.​

​

The real danger came from above as one very angry-looking swordsman was fast coming down, having launched himself high into the air to avoid the push. The robes beneath his discarded haori were scorched and burning as he trailed smoke, the holes burned in his clothing showing blisterered, burning flesh beneath. The sabers that came boomeranging at Teth from behind flew upwards to return to their wielder after striking at the Kissai's shields. Despite the pain, the rush of adrenaline and his zealous pursuit of his foe was what drove him, his spirit ablaze and burning even hotter than the flames that scorched him.​

​

The first of his sabers returned to his free hand, the other wielding an Ashina steel wakizashi, another swift twist of his body in the air as he threw out the caught saber directly at Teth and catching the second saber to come at him to follow up with a twin strike from overhead.​

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Rhaec'Teth​

​

 

[Drachmas Venti]

OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR​

Spoiler: Personal Equipment for Engagement

Service Special Small Pistol
( 2x) IG-Series Droids for Personal Protection

Governor Drachmas Venti, Balmorran Arms Factory

"Why did they make these so small?" Drachmas grumbled within the cockpit of the CAP-2 Captivator model as it navigated the corridor from the central office to the lower decks of the Balmorran Arms Factory.

He certainly didn't think it could stand up to Kornon in a direct fight engagement but there was a glimmer of hope that the two AR-S Siege Battle Droid could wear him down enough to provide him with a chance to fight.

He could hear the Factory Guardsmen engaged in a fierce battle with the barabel intruders below, but the strength of these creatures was impressive, potentially warranting the creation of a droid model inspired by them once this invasion was repelled by the power of Balmorran Arms.

A transmission briefly interrupted him, coming from Cargo Sector 194, as an update from the Balmorran Defense Force indicated they were making semi-successful progress towards both Tilon Quill and Thalen Dhorain .

"Commander Gorbon. Use the SD-10 Battle Droids as the bulkhead into the landing zone and back them up with smoke screens before launching any offensive. They are well-armed and equipped down there but even a stolen freighter can hold only so much." He communicated through the small device in his battlesuit, fully aware that the incursion depended on the landing zone for their ammunition theft. If they could disrupt that through wave tactics, this rebellion would be over.

"Understood, Governor. Dispatch a complete squadron of our SD-10 Battle Droids to the breach and follow closely behind them. For the Emperor!" The Commander bellowed to the rest of his Balmorran Arms Detachment.

While that front was advancing, the Governor still had to contend with an Jedi making his way through the facility, and judging by the sounds of intense combat ahead, it appeared that his droids were at least managing to hold them off. He glanced around the corner and noticed that the barbel Jedi was advancing towards the second droid, just as they entered the range of his suit's targeting system.

BANG, BANG, BANG from his mounted Blaster cannon.

​

 

[Wymar]

P E N I T E N T
THE CINDER
Battle Armor [MODIFIED] | Lightsaber
FOCUS | Ikuma Ashina ​

---

---

DECOY​

---

---

BALMORRA
902 ABY
THE GALACTIC EMPIRE​

In truth, he had no wish in his heart to strike any of these Lightsworn dead. Some among them might've otherwise recognized him beneath the armored guise. But even so, he offered the opportunity for the young jedi to surrender himself and in all his hubris, he refused. The Atrisian flung the heavy crate up toward him which spurred a furrow of his brow beneath the helmet before he thrust his free arm forward with a splayed hand to send the crate dropping to the ground with a thud, the counter push of his force wrenching it away from the path it careened toward him in only for his focus to break with another flurry of argent from the Jedi which he met with a competent enough responsiveness to regain his own flow.

The swipe of cobalt swiped through the rear guard of his thigh as he turned to face him. <"Ashina...a noble lineage."> He spoke, his voice still thrumming with its vocoder beneath the helmet, muffled and deep. He let the Jedi surge with confidence and make another lunge toward him only for the Crestfallen to surge himself with the force to evade the jab, a hand grasping at Ashina's wrist before the one ahold of his saber splayed its fingers with the palm clutching the hilt before he sent a fierce push of the force toward his chest in a tandem effort to rip the Jedi's lightsaber from his grasp with a twist of his hips away from the Jedi.

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Balmorra Factory Flatlands
Objective: Punch
Outfit

​

​

Ariana smiled wide as she quickly sprinted across one factory entrance to the next, her target a bit further out. She held a rather grim determination of her task but her countenance betrayed such dreary feelings. The young du Couteau heiress had a reputation to maintain of being all smiles after all. All the same there was a rather dark satisfaction of correcting traiteurs behavior. It was personal for Ariana.​

​

She noticed that the lockdown of the Arms Factory had caused the entrance she intended to use had already shut its durasteel door. With her smile turning into a wider grin Ariana breathed evenly as she concentrated on the Force. Her left arm glowed bright white and what appeared as embers blossomed as they gently disappointed as she focused the ability of Force convection. Together with the Buukani Hand Technique it allowed Ariana to reinforce her fist with both intense heat to melt some metals but also crush more. ​

​

At first a single thud could be heard, then another, and another before long Ariana was producing a rhythmic sound to her punches. The dent continued to grow as did the heat glowed around the impacted area but the door remained true all the same. This though did not deter her as she kept punching with growing intensity. ​

​

Perhaps it was too personal. ​

​

Ariana slowed before ultimately she stopped her albeit futile attempt to open the door but it served as a useful de-stresser all the same. Her smile never faltered even as she pivoted to face a group of incoming security forces. Though their equipment appeared a bit more militarized, Ariana had little time to confirm if these were just Imperial Security forces or the local Balmorran military. ​

​

She quickly marked down the factory as suitable for total destruction, perhaps someone might have asked if there was no way to recover the equipment inside. Ariana figured the others probably recovered enough, so the destruction of this particular Factory wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. The dented door harmed her ego a tad, best to just get rid of the evidence off the face of the galaxy. ​

​

As the enemy soldiers closed in, Ariana dissipated her Force abilities and instead conjured up a small Force bubble. She moved in quickly to get a closer look and get a careful look at the soldiers, then later clear the area to allow a demolition team to set up the chargers. ​

​

 

[Rhaec'Teth]

Allies: Galactic Empire; Drachmas Venti , Zethran Cott, Meliant , Imperius Indomitus
Enemies: Everyone Else; Shinzou Ashina ​

---

Splaying his fingers while he remained down on hands and knees, the force channeled through him from where he'd pressed his palm to the ground.

The Energy Shield flared to life when Shinzou Ashina threw the first saber back at the Kissai. An aureate web crackled and flared to life again upon impact through the blow itself would ensure Teth stayed down, if in fact he had the inclination to attempt to rise back up onto his feet. As for the twin strike that followed----

----Teth would try to rear up onto his knees, the lightsaber would strike aureate shielding again just like the one that had been thrown however the Wakizashi suffered no such impediment. The Artisian Steel passed through the energy shield as though it were nonexistent, scratching across the breast of the Cleric in the process (how odd) who hissed as he was put down again, onto his back this time.

Energy, channeled with the force had let the Cleric take on properties of the earth. His skin calcified, hardening and becoming more resistant, like stone or duracrete. Still the wakizashi had carved a thin line across the Cleric's chest leaving a odious black ichor leaking from the wound in its wake.

Looking up at the Artisian, a pained expression touching the corner of his mouth from the wound he'd suffered he would have coughed...

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage."

...a ragged chuckle accompanied his words. He'd never been a particularly accomplished duelist, probably why he hadn't reached for the lightsaber on his person or attempted to use the staff in his defense.

 

[Kyric]

Not a single word was uttered by the armor-clad giant. Power surged around him instead, a blatant warning of the onslaught the Primarch intended in the opening salvo. Whispers rode the winds alongside tiny fractures within the air forged from nothing, both a pre-cognitive blessing carried forward to the kiffar, a servant of Life and the Light alike. These whispers spoke of an ageless foe made all the more dangerous across his endless crusade. The Force was a tool to him. A means to an end born from the imperfect mind of a broken and long-dead man.

When Imperius flickered and seemingly disappeared, Kyric did the same. He outpaced the wave of telekinetic energy by inches. The kiffar's blade rose in answer to the opening jab, where he side-stepped the weapon's trajectory and parried it aside with a well-placed nudge at the monolithic blade's weakest point—its tip. He vaulted back at the slash, narrowly avoiding decapitation, before he landed on the dirt, his blade flying heavenward in a rising thrust aimed to pierce the helmet's visor and end the fight in the first exchange.

Imperius moved swiftly. His sword diverted Kyric's and struck out faster than a coiled viper in riposte. Again the Jedi Knight shifted off the path of his opponent's strike, this time by a hairsbreadth. He dropped low and danced around Imperius, using the movement as cover to scoop up dirt from the ground beneath their feet. Kyric straightened and tossed the dirt up at the giant's visor and executed an assault of his own.

Resolute sang as it flashed through the air. Kyric aimed a powerful strike for his opponent's elbow, between the plated metals which protected the Sith. Behind his strike, a cutting wind not unlike Imperius' telekinetic charge roared in a secondary blow in the shadow of the first, but it diverted course, falling low for the man's knee.

---

Tags: Imperius Indomitus

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD
ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS

The signature high scream of twin ion engines ripped through the air above the landing pad. A dark shape passed overhead, flying dangerously low to the ground. Chin-mounted cannons opened fire with a WATWATWATWAT and laser bolts of brilliant emerald peppered the line of advancing droids, fireballs blooming a half-second before the shape of a heavily modified TIE Avenger whipped through them. Its shields flickering blue before it shrieked nearly vertical.

The TIE Avenger's hull shimmered, barely visible to the naked eye as it drank in any light around it. Sensors too. The effects of a stygian tri-prismatic polymer coating. It wove through facility structures, trailing three chase fighters that fired on it, spitting red hate through the space between their vessels in bursts of laser fire that tore into the facility superstructure as they wound about, almost graceful at a distance. A dance of death.

In the commlinks of the Lightsworn, a familiar voice.

"Sword-One, engaging."

Drachmas Venti Tilon Quill Kyric Henna Ashina Thalen Dhorain

 

[Henna Ashina]

EYES IN THE SKY
HIRATA, ATRISIA
Observing: Tilon Quill | Tydeus of Tion | Ariana du Couteau

"Command, Quill. Cargo is seven crates of weapons, twelve injured — four seriously — and all inside the getaway shuttles just in case. Balmorran soldiers control the landing pad perimeter and we're starting to take heavier fire. All autoturrets non-functional, shields at sixty. Dhorain's probably saved half a dozen lives at this point but our exit position is not sustainable without support or cracking those crates open."

With the communication, Henna maneuvered through the command room to lean over one of their sworn at their console. His station tracked the comings and goings of personnel and current missions. Various orbs flickered throughout the Hapes cluster.

“How long to scramble a squadron?”

A few taps of the keyboard filled the silence.

“Nearest is.. Gorse, Master.” Hayden replied quickly.

“Not quick enough, then. We have a few Jedi solo in the core. See if they are able to reroute.”

The hapan master paced the pristine rows, fretting, watching. The mission had been a risky gambit, she knew - but a contingency still remained to be seen. Pull too early, and compromise their goals? Or risk their men for maximum impact? Henna found herself leaning toward the latter. A broken cog in the Imperial war machine was more valuable than the looted weaponry.

"Sword-One, engaging."

Henna’s head snapped to the billboard that displayed their boots on the ground. Several names marked with pinging dots confirmed Tilon’s earlier assessments of the wounded - and another name had found its way to the ranks.

<<Better late than never, Tydeus.>>

Though short, understanding his pressure, warmth colored her tone as she acknowledged the paladins return. She had kept tabs on him through out their regrouping, finding his recent companions most troublesome. He was a valuable warrior, if kept focused, and she had a personal affection for his strength in spirit at the reformation.

<<We’re sending backup, but it may not arrive soon enough. Quill, unseal those crates, if you must. If the fire gets too heavy, pull out with who you can; the others can find their own way home.>>

Surely, the factory had a ship or two ripe for plundering.

<<Ariana.>> Henna moved to find the padawan through the force, noting her quick progress. <<I’m afraid our other demolition team has been held up. We are counting on you, my dear.>>

 

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Balmorra Factory Flatlands
Objective: Punch with Rocket
Outfit

Ariana dashed forward to reach the incoming soldiers but quickly ducked behind cover as blaster-fire intensified. While she figured that her Force bubble would have held out to close the distance but Ariana figured it was best to pace herself. Especially after my little tantrum with the door. She poked her out of the cover and quickly ducked as more blaster fire was tossed her way.

<<Ariana.>> <<I’m afraid our other demolition team has been held up. We are counting on you, my dear.>>

Ah. ‘Copy that, I’ll handle it.’

A slight blush emerged, Ariana looked up and wondered if someone did see her failed attempt to break inside the factory. While having a willing demolition team to help was not going to happen, there was a chance the enemy soldiers could prove useful. A moment later Ariana’s eyes widened and quickly conjured a Force bubble as an explosion tore apart her cover.

Well, that answers that I guess.

The explosive flames erupted all around her and washed over her Force bubble, unfortunately there had been some damage. Ariana’s eyes narrowed, despite her smile remaining large, at the burnt ends of her cape. A shake of her head she quickly dashed forward with renewed focus for payback. The first squad of soldiers kept their fire discipline despite the little effect their weapons had on her Force bubble as Ariana crashed into them like a meteor.

Ariana grabbed the first soldier with her mechanical right arm and smashed her left opened palm directly into his stomach. The Force was quite useful when it came to blunt force trauma and the soldier crumpled to the ground as Ariana swung her fist to smash into the head of the second soldier. The other two stepped back to grow some distance as they fired at her direction but Ariana finally ignited her lightsaber. A brilliant blue saber erupted as it deflected the red energy bolts back at the two remaining soldiers.

The second squad, the heavy weapons team that had shot the explosive at her, had probably given up on friendly fire. Ariana placed her left hand ahead and produced a larger Force bubble to absorb the rocket impact. She flinched as the flames subsided all around her but ran forward all the same, her fist smashed into the soldier that held the launcher as she spun quickly forward and cracked her heel into the chest of the other. Ariana breathed heavily as she gathered herself back up and inspected the remains.

Ariana picked up the launcher and with a quick inspection there was a single round left, she thanked the Force. Military training had not been something she had ever partook in before but she knew how to pull down on a trigger. She hefted the heavy launcher and slowly made her way back to the locked door with many fist shaped dents. A tad close for comfort but Ariana fired at the door and quickly constructed a Force shield to help dampen the explosive shockwave. The door became a slagged hole and Ariana’s smile returned to a wide grin.
​

|| Henna Ashina ||​

 

[Tilon Quill]

<<We’re sending backup, but it may not arrive soon enough. Quill, unseal those crates, if you must. If the fire gets too heavy, pull out with who you can; the others can find their own way home.>>

Assuming the next ten minutes or so went as poorly as anticipated, that meant leaving a lot of his recent passengers behind, and Tilon wasn't certain he could live with that.

On the other hand, regardless of how they'd all come to this moment, or whether this raid's impact warranted the casualties, huge Balmorran SD-10 droids were thumping into the edges of the big landing pad. He'd just become a medevac ship.

"Received, Command."

He closed the connection and sat there for a couple of heartbeats, looking at the bridge panels as laser cannons splashed on the depleting shields. Tallying what he had to work with, how much shield strength he needed to save for the getaway, and thus how long until the freighter had to pull out.

They'd paid such a heavy price to keep those crates from the Empire. If anything inside could change the situation, he had maybe two minutes to figure that out before the huge war droids' chewed his shields down to red. And while finding out, he wouldn't be in a position to blink the shields on and off for easy ingress.

He wished deeply that he'd taken on this kind of mission with seasoned spacers he knew and trusted — In, Nysh, Arris, people like that — instead of Jedi. A lot of things would have gone much differently.

"This is Captain Quill," he said over the intercom to the dozen-plus casualties and medics aboard. "Expect liftoff in five to ten minutes." Assuming any of the unknown weapons in the crates were useful against gigantic armored droids, he intended to make it ten. "Any of you good with mind-to-mind, get that message to the Jedi on the ground — but they'll have to get through heavy fire for a ride home with us."

Comms were spotty, a lot of interference, and frankly he wasn't sure which Jedi were carrying comlinks at this point.

He slipped down from the bulk freighter's bridge into the cargo hold and up into one of the inbuilt shuttles. It stank of blood and bacta and char. Its little hold held three half-conscious wounded, an EMT droid, a Sworn Host medic/pilot, and a crate of some unknown thing. Tilon cracked the seals on that and was treated to gut-lurching disappointment — and disgust, and fear — thanks to tidily stabilized green trihexalon charges. Devastating against biomass, useless against droids.

He strapped the crate closed carefully and moved to the next shuttle, wincing as blaster cannons chewed at the shields outside the freighter's ramp. The shields were showing fray, momentary gaps, as the generators struggled. The second shuttle had a similar situation.

Its crate, however, held ACP repeaters, energy-based squad automatic weapons. Nowhere near worth the raid by themselves but blessedly feasible. He'd gained some experience with similar guns during a slaver raid on the tropical planet Kattada. They also had the benefit of extra effectiveness against shields.

He traded his blaster carbine for one of the big repeaters and came down from the shuttle to the edge of the cargo bay door, right at the top of the main ramp. It offered reasonable cover for him to stick the repeater around the edge and lay down deterrent fire against the most urgently positioned SD-10s — firing mainly through those brief haphazard shield weaknesses. Instinct helped with that, and a touch of Suerton probability warping.

The droids' blaster cannons hammered at the shield and sprayed stray flame and intense heat through those shield weaknesses. A Jedi stranger leaped in through one as well, burlap flaming, to stick the landing — somehow — unharmed. Tilon promptly sent him off to get another repeater and double the cargo ramp's firepower.

The situation remained untenable but this was how you turned five minutes into ten.

Ariana du Couteau Kyric Drachmas Venti Shinzou Ashina Kornon Corr Talin Treicolt Thalen Dhorain Ikuma Ashina