Operation Torch

[Gir Quee]

Gir nodded at O'Riley. He couldn't help but wonder if the soldier really was all right. The man's armor clearly looked like it had taken some hits, and Gir couldn't help but wonder if the man's body was just as compromised. But he'd probably be a better fighter while injured than me on my best day. I suppose we don't have much choice in the manner. The follow-up assault team began to wheel out of the bridge foyer to take up their pre-assault position. Gir turned his attention back to Young.

"I'm not going to stop you from joining them if you want to," said Gir, "but only if you're certain that you won't hold them back. But otherwise, we could use you here in the bridge to pull security, especially with most of our people moving to retake the ship. It's not glorious I know, but we can't have the boarders just wandering in here. If the bridge falls, well...I don't have to tell you how bad that would be. Think about it son."

Gir moved on to the holo-tank where Captain Hopkins was coordinating the automated internal defenses along with the swarm of old security droids. Dozens of the droids had already been destroyed in the first moments of their offensive. But in the process, they had managed to drive back the boarders from the ship's engine room and the vessel's stern. The automated defenses were now back online in those areas, which would make further attacks in those areas unlikely to succeed. The boarder's momentum had been halted, but their continued presence continued to remain a significant threat to the ship itself. He glanced at Hopkins as the man continued to coordinate the defender's actions. He has this under control. Gir turned his gaze upwards to a short Sullustan named Gibins.

"Is signals intelligence complete? Do we know what comlink frequencies they are using?"

The sullustan chippered away quickly in Sullustese that Gir just barely managed to interpret as a 'yes'.

"Good," said the blonde man, "let's jam those frequencies then and watch their coordination fall apart."

The sullustan bobbed his head up and down. Behind the almost cylindrical bridge tower, a massive frequency jammer array began to pump out large amounts of signal noise over select channels used by Tessk's men and battle droids. With its introduction, any large-scale coordination between them vanished. If the allied forces played their cards right, they would be able to coordinate their actions to slowly but effectively mop up clusters of the disorganized criminals.

***​

Tessk's Safe House, under Taxon City

Tessk suddenly saw an arm swing down at him, causing his eyes to widen with surprise. Before he could affect a good response, the arm hauled him above the bar's surface. The trandoshan silently cursed. Too good to be true. He turned his eyes down to his subordinates. Two of them let their weapons clatter to the ground, but the third aimed his weapon at either the crime lord or the Republic trooper grabbing him. Tessk managed to swing his weapon up to bear down on the thug and fired, silencing his own man before quickly dropping his own weapon. Smoke began to waft up from his henchman's charred chest. The trandoshan growled.

"Handle me carefully boys, I've burned people before. I may be in your grasp for now, but I promise you that won't always be the case," growled Tessk to [member="Valkren Calderon"], "You would do well to treat me well. You have my word that in the future, I will treat you as well as you treat me."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

"Don't worry, sir. I'm startin' to realize that I wouldn't be too well of a shot unless it came down to an emergency." The intel specialist stood up, patting at the bandages around the upper left side of his head that also covered the entirety of his left eye. After stating this, he'd pick up his helmet that sported a shattered visor plus his rifle, moving around to get a better vantage on the bridge's exit. "Sir, you should probably inform Saber team of what's going on up here, any word from them?" The intelligence specialist asked Gir as he made his way past a group of republic officers, by this time O'Riley had trotted off with the forward assault team, ready to continue the fight. His body ached as he moved his limbs, after a full combat mission his joints had been crying out for rest, but none of them had the time for that.

******​

​

Back in Tessk's safehouse, Michaels and O'Connor were subduing the much larger transdoshan with binds on his hands, having to use a larger set of cuffs for this HVT. While the other two went to work, Valkren and Watson were shouting in commanding tones at the two others, pulling them over the mini bar and toward Tessk while brandishing their weapons at them. Confusion and intimidation was the best form to keep an adrenaline-fueled shooter from thinking he or she could make a run for it.

After binding the others and placing them face down, O'Connor and Watson stood behind the three remaining crooks including tessk that were face down, training the Z-6 Rotary cannon and assault blaster on them, while Michaels went straight to securing the exit after a brief check of the room.

"All clear, boss." Michaels said, as he raised his weapon to the door, a smirk from ear to ear on his face underneath his visor. The specialist was almost giddy at the thought of using his arm to subdue an enemy, he wanted to go on and on about it in their squads communication, but held off on it for the sake of the mission at hand.

"Bag em' and tag em, right boys?" O'Connor's gruff voice crackled through the communication system, keeping his eyes on the targets at hand.

Valkren took his sights away from their captives now, taking a hand away from his rifle to use his almost-fried communicator. "Oceans Tide, Oceans Tide; Saber one checking in with one Tessk plus two bad guys, how copy?"

After a brief moment of peace after the sudden firefight, Michaels began to set up himself up for a bragging session. "So, did anyone else see me-"

Watson spoke up, shifting his gaze over to their team leader for a second after Tessk made his threat toward Valkren, they had been as rough as Republic commandos usually were during the taking of any captives during combat. The idea was to eliminate the threat of the noncombatant, and that meant doing it efficiently, even if the men who previous shot at them got alittle bruised.

"Yeah yeah, we all saw it..Hey boss, we're still missing the girl.."

The helmet cams were still transmitting to the war room, like before.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir caught O'Riley's words before the man went off with the rest of the assault team. In turn, Gir ordered the ship's communication's officer to bring [member="Valkren Calderon"]'s team up to speed about the developments on the Ocean Tide. Gir's eyes wandered across the various holo-projectors and flatscreens across the CIC. Images of the Republic and Directorate troops flashed across the screens, providing Gir with views of their efforts to drive back the enemy boarders. But his eyes kept on moving past those visages, finally settling on the helmet camera of an unknown member of Saber team. While the audio was muted, Gir could undoubtedly identify the large trandoshan that they were binding up as Tessk. With that criminal captured, Gir could count the operation as being a success, though undoubtedly it would be even more successful if they managed to capture the key members of the Blue Sun Pirates. He turned his eyes upwards to Lieutenant Tanqew.

"Has there been any word on Julia Sal-Horn and the Blue Sun pirates?"

The intelligence officer glanced at Tibbs, who merely shrugged.

"None specifically on Sal-Horn, sir," said Tanqew, "but we have seen members of the Blue Suns on board the Tide. It's possible that she will show up here with them. There are a few boarders that we have captured. Maybe they can give us something on her once their interrogations are complete."

"How much time do you think it will take to pick up information on her?"

"You'll need more time," answered Tibbs, the defel information broker, "all of those on the ship are no more than low-level lackeys."
"How do you know that?" asked Tanqew.

Tibbs growled, "I can see the quality of who they are through the holo-cameras as well as you can. They are all fodder to be thrown at an objective that can be easily replaced. We will not see anyone valuable onboard this ship."

A frown flickered across his face. So you say. While it may show the quality of the people fighting, it doesn't tell us anything about their actual positions. The Blue Suns seem to have a particular penchant for having their leaders fight on the front lines too...Gir stroked his chin. But that's one of the few pieces of information that we didn't get supplied from Tibbs...did we just catch him in a blatant attempt to misinform us? Gir knew that acting on conflicting intelligence was not only a peril, but also a sign that the subject of intelligence wasn't as understood as they should have been. And there was only one way to correct that misconception quickly: get information straight from the source.

"Tibbs, Tanqew, I want you both to go with the assault team to do some HUMINT work," decided Gir, "if either of you find something, I want to know about it."

"Yes sir," said Tanqew, "let's go Tibbs."

His headset comlink offered a subdued pair of chimes, informing him that the communication's officer had transferred a call to him. He listened to Valkren's brief report, which confirmed what he had seen on the flatscreen. We need to get them out of there and up here...but that may be difficult...but first things first.

"Saber One, good copy. Saber One checking in with Tessk and two other hostile prisoners," said Gir, "Tessk is high-value enough that your team warrants immediate extraction back to the Tide. Flight Control will talk to you shortly about Saber Team's extraction to a shuttle just above your location."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Valkren heard Gir's orders and headed them well, aswell as acknowledging the situation the Ocean's tide was currently in. This provided for an interesting change of plans for their ground operation; if they were to lose the support of the ship that sat directly above the tower, the entire ground pound operation would be pointless without air superiority.

"Solid Copy, Ocean's tide. Saber team is RTB for extraction. Sabers, moving out! Ocean's tide is taking incoming fire, we're cutting the party short!" The Sergeant stated as he turned back to his team, placing both hands on his blaster once again.

"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Sir? How'd they get to the ship?"

"Button it up, O'Connor. We'll find out when we get there. Irish, Michaels, stay on our friends here and keep them close on our heels. Watson, you're with me on point. We'll clear a path to the ship. Time to get evil, Sabers!" He yelled out to his team before taking the same entrance to the room they had created as their exit, with Watson and the others following suit after a synchronized affirmation of his previous orders.

Valkren and Watson led the way, clearing out the first few corners and covering Michaels and O'Connor as they ushered their captives into the turbo lifts. After making their way to the next floor up, they were greeted with a pair of hostiles, unaware that the lift was currently being used by the enemy. The enemy was easily assured of the faction that these men were aligned with when Watson and Calderon peppered the enemies with two blasts from their rifles, stepping over the bodies to clear out the lobby.

"Clear, sir! Bird's here." Watson spoke out, firing a round through the glass doors at the base of the tower before jogging toward the door to provide support for the others. As Watson and Valkren cleared the way, the other two operators ushered their 'guests' into the bird directly outside, with Valkren and Watson aiming to cover their exfiling team. Valkren made it sure that his boots were the last on the ground before pulling himself up onto the ramp, turning to catch a last view of the tower. "Saber One to Oceans tide, exfil is green. I repeat, exfil is green."

******​

O'Riley pulled a wounded Directorate marine into the cover of one of the many corridors aboard the Ocean's tide that had been filled with enemy boarders. He tightened his grip on his weapon once he made a quick check over on the marine that seemed to be in shock, he'd survive, but not for long if they didn't rid the ship of it's current plague. If they couldn't force them back then that could mean the end of his entire squad. Even worse, the end of all directorate and republic operations in this sector.

He took a breath, before moving out of cover and raising his weapon off, sending several rounds down 'range' to keep the boarders in his corridor at a distance. He switched cover with ease, most of the guard bots having kept most of the boarders busy for the most time, providing the marines and soldiers tasked with cleansing the ship more cover.

"O'Riley here with the forward party, we're taking hits but I don't know how much longer we can keep this up!"

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Exfil is green. Gir briefly flickered his screen to observe [member="Valkren Calderon"]'s shuttle lifting up into the skies among the rust speckled skyscrapers of the moon. He zoomed out just enough to see that several pairs of cartel fighters flash past the shuttle, all while being pursued by a squadron of Typhoons off of the Ocean Tide. The man from Hast could even see tiny specks flying through the air around them, which he knew to be the enemy's jetpack-equipped infantry. One of the shuttle's lasers lanced out to incinerate one of the specks. If he weren't any under any pressure, Gir would have probably watched the shuttle's short hop back to the Tide, but other concerns forced his attention back to the situation back on the carrier itself. Gir turned to Captain Hopkins, the man normally in charge of the ship.

"Are the fire control networks back online for the Plex's?"

The other man spared a quick glance at the ground before looking up, "Not yet, but we should have full network access in minutes. We do have those of the autoblasters online now."

That's good for the immediate defense of the ship. Coordinated mass fire from the weapons could easily strip away the sheer number of boarding attempts as well as eliminate boarders trying to escape for the ship. But they weren't effective weapons against any ground installations. If they could knock out the enemy's logistical supplies in addition to the communication's blackout that they were maintaining, the ship's defenders could simply win by holding their ground long enough until the enemy was out of ammunition and the other supplies needed to continue the operation. Gir found that attrition was a terrible way to win a battle, but it was always one of the most failproof ways as well.

"Start compiling a list of known enemy launch sites," said Gir, "once the missile networks online, I want those sites all eliminated in one fell swoop with a minimum of collateral damage."

"Doctor Pacium wants your permission to turn Laboratory Besh into a overfill room for the casualties coming in."

Gir briefly cosidered the request. The ship had four, large compartments designed to act as scientific facilities. One compartment hosted the ship's usual sickbay, while two of them had specifically been outfitted to act combat support hospitals in order to support the ground operations. The last one, Laboratory Besh, which had once served as the ship's first contact lab, had been refitted to conduct forensic investigations. The fact that the first three units were becoming too crowded only reinforced the notion that they would need to act more quickly to secure the ship quickly and decisively.

"Do it," said Gir, "we can't conduct investigations if we lose the ship."

"Got it."

Gir flicked a switch on his headset, changing it to the frequency used by Tanquew's headset.

"Lieutenant, you find anything out yet?"

"Not as much as I would like," said the intelligence officer, "they seem to be falling back to one of the larger cargo holds to regroup."

Gir's lip twitched into a frown. Regrouping like that means that they're either solidifying their defense, or they're looking to make a mass escape. As troubling as that was, Gir also recognized that it was also the most likely location for any of the high value targets to appear. He quickly typed in a few commands into his console.

"Which cargo hold?"

"Cresh Four, on the third deck."

"Thank you Lieutenant."

Gir switched his communication's channel once again to the one used by Saber Team.

"Saber Team, it appears that the enemy is regrouping in one of the ship's main cargo holds, Cresh Four. There's a chance that several of our remaining targets will be there. There's always the front door, I suppose, but if you want a more clandestine entry method, we can get you in through a maintenance access shaft. There should be a lot of places to hide there among the crates and other containers. You might be able to use that to your advantage, but so might our enemies."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Sergeant Calderon received [member="Gir Quee"] 's update and acknowledged it, moving to the front of the dropship that had come to their rescue to inform the pilots that he wanted to be put down in a hangar bay closest to Cresh Four. After discussing minor details of how far off they'd be from the maintenance shaft and their current ETA, the young commando from Alderaan turned back, moving down the length of the dropship as he tapped into his team's communications system.

"You hear that, O'Riley? Maintenance shaft, Cresh Four." He stated, keeping his helmet on and only transmitting to his team. He had to, due to them having four other 'guests' who would probably love to hear Republic and Directorate operations any time of the day.

O'Riley's voice cut through into their helmets from his position on the Ocean's Tide. "Good copy, boss. I'll move there now. See you boys soon."

"Stay safe, you little piss ant." O'Connor huffed as he chimed in, staring through his visor at the oversized Lizard by the name of Tessk they had bound up.

"Love you too, dear."

Valkren picked up his weapon from where it sat in the dropship, carrying it with him as he moved past their captives, Watson, and O'Connor. He made it to where his second in command was sitting, Michaels. Ken Michaels was busy plucking small pieces of shrapnel from his mechanical prosthetic from the combat that previously followed. He'd turn his helmet upward, his visor'd gaze meeting the eyes of Valkren from behind his own muted Visor. "How 'bout it, bossman?"

"How ya' holding up, brother?"

"Bout as good as our guests are over there, but I'll live. Can't say the same for how Young's doin' up on that ship."

The sergeant frowned at his statement and apparent concern for their teammate that was previously injured. Valkren worried aswell, mostly due to the fact that he was also involved in the same explosion that the specialist was injured in. Yet, Valkren knew the kid, Young was tougher than he seemed. "He'll live, he's a Republic Commando..Only way to kill us is to cut off our liquor supply."

"You're damn right about that one. Oh, what was that? Oh yeah, Bossman! I'd love a round on the house once we get back to safety!"

"Now hold up, I didn't agree to an-"

"Deal's made, thanks Sarge." Michaels quickly retorted, making a rather humorous chuckling sound and pulling himself away from his seat, moving toward the front of the dropship to jokingly escape his NCO, and to entertain himself with the sight of their captives.

Calderon laughed quickly to himself, he couldn't help but crack a smile behind his helmet's visor and facemask. It was good to see some of his team still held it's morale after some intense combat. It felt assured that his team could take much more thrown at them and still hold their own, but hopefully they wouldn't have to deal with such opposition. The sergeant pulled himself off of the seat and stood next to the ramp that would soon lead them back onto the Ocean's tide.

Speaking into his helmets comm' system once more, he went to inform his team of the approaching dangers. "Alright, listen up sabers! As you currently know, the Ocean's tide is currently under attack by the same forces that work for this oversized, ugly, SOB right here. Referring to the lizard of course, not you O'Connor." O'Connor attempted to return fire with an insult of his own, but his NCO cut him off with more information, his smirk now turned into a full fledge grin. "Most of the Directorate and Republic forces managed to force the boarders into one of the cargo bays..We'll be moving there and meeting with O'Riley and friendly forces to take on the remaining of this opposition. Be warned, our two remaining HVT's have been spotted on board, so get evil Sabers!"

Eventually, the dropship would touch down in one of many Ocean's Tide's hangars after a rather bumpy ride.

 

[Gir Quee]

Waging a war on two fronts is never easy...Gir glanced at the blast doors to the bridge. Especially when they can literally knock on the door to our command center...He shrugged the thought from his head as he considered the scope of the ongoing battle. Major Goins and the Directorate, Republic, and mercenary troops had almost a stranglehold on the perimeter of Taxon City and most of its internal thoroughfares. While they didn't control every building, it was only a matter of time before Tessk's syndicate melted away from their surviving hideouts. It seemed inevitable that the allied troops and battle droids would begin house to house searches. Likewise, the allied forces had virtually gained complete control of the aerospace around the city due to the sheer number of weapons on the Ocean Tide. It seemed paradoxical to Gir that the most precarious position which they held onto was their base ship itself.

Gir typed in several commands into his console, attempting to pull up the holo-cam security feeds of the areas around Cresh Four. But many of them had no signal, which led Gir to believe that either they had been damaged in the intense, close-quarters fighting, or that they had been deliberately destroyed by the invaders. Gir was inclined to believe that the latter was most likely the case. As he flipped through the various feeds, he felt more certain about his gut reaction. They are too systematically destroyed on the port side to be mere coincidence. The best assaults are the ones that people don't see coming...He tapped a button on his headset comlink to the channel he shared with [member="Valkren Calderon"] and the rest of Saber Team.

"Sergeant Calderon," said Gir, "be advised that many of the security cameras and other defenses are offline on the left side of Cresh Four. That may be the direction they will try to escape to if your team spooks them."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

"Good copy, thanks for the heads up." The sergeant stated between steps as he jogged toward O'Riley and Cresh Four's location, his team close on his heels. After touching down in the Ocean's Tide's hangar, they had passed their captives onto the Directorate marines as to not slow down Saber team in their task of apprehending the remaining HVT's.

Valkren and Saber team made their way to where O'Riley and a pair of directorate marines were waiting, passing by a multitude of mangled corpses and wrecked guard droids. Slapping O'Riley on the shoulder plate as they came to a stop, he spoke up once more. "How's it going, looks like you folks were havin' a party up here without us?"

O'Riley turned to his comrades, a wave of relief washing over him as he saw that they now had a full team of elite pipehitters back on board. "These boys here are going to boost us into the bay's shaft. Unclear of the opposition there, I say we go in and just circle them to cut off their escape."

"Solid copy, how's Young holding up?"

"He's good, ugly, but good."

"Good, the boys are back in town. Irish, you've just been volunteered as pointman! Get your big cannon up there, Saber."

O'Connor huffed as he pushed his way through his squad to the shaft, taking a glance at the marines from behind his visor, "Watch where you put your hands, mate."

This was a risky scenario, with close-to-no intel on the OPFOR within Cresh Four, his team would be walking in blindly to a possible ambush. With the boarders backed up against a wall, it was more than likely that they had fortified their position with whatever they could find within the bay. Unaware of whatever weaponry they had, Valkren was hoping for the use of surprise with this maintenance hatch.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir kept his eyes almost glued to the console. He half-expected a series of bright red, blinking tabs to alert him to sudden developments with the enemy boarders that they had been pushing into a cargo hold. Yet none were forthcoming, which left him to oversee the operations elsewhere. Goins had pushed his people to use his people to storm and capture Tessk's skyscraper, but also to completely occupy the city's spaceport. Preliminary searches there had turned up a wealth of contraband materials ranging from bags of Glitterstim and other spices to shoddily constructed disruptors and sleek black assassin droids. Gir watched some of the items, particularly some of the handheld weapons, with fascination as they were documented and then systematically destroyed in a mobile disintegration chamber.

But that really only served to distract his mind from the violence that he knew was coming that was only several hundred meters away from him. A short distance considering the reach of many rifles and other weapons that the modern soldier had access to. It seemed strange to think that if he didn't have the protection of multiple bulwarks between him and the cargo hold, that his life would hang but by a thread. Suddenly, Hopkins frantically rushed over to him, clutching his headset earpiece against his ear.

"Channel Six--O-Eight, sir."

Gir flipped his headset on to catch the words of a certain Blue Sun's pirate with a feminine voice.

"I repeat, if you do not allow us to leave from one of our ships currently approaching, we will detonate all of the explosives that we have with us. We may die, but we're taking your ship with us. You have five minutes to give us your answer, Tide. Will you let us go? Or will you die in the process?"

Gir's face contorted into a frown, "Better let [member="Valkren Calderon"] and Saber Team know about this development..."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Valkren caught the update of the Ocean's Tide situation soon after Michael's climbed up into the shaft after O'Connor, the demolitions expert jabbing at him jokingly.

"Hey Irish, nice ass."

"Better than your wife's, yeah?"

"Michaels, back up..We might need you. Looks like we've got a possible bomb situation here. O'Riley, get up there with Irish and let us know what's in there..Hold you're fire unless discovered."

"Copy Boss."

Sergeant Calderon turned to the Directorate marines that were boosting his team members into the maintenance hatch. He'd nod his head in the opposite direction, signaling the two marines to get to safety imedietly. After realizing that the Republic Commando had cut them loose, they quickly picked up their own weapons and jogged off towards the bridge.

As he watched the marines jog away, Valkren reengaged his transmission with Gir Quee and the bridge. "This is your ship sir, you let us know what you want us to do about the situation. I can have Michaels take Watson to look for and possibly disarm any explosives they find..But that will take time..Time that might let our HVT slip away. O'Riley and O'Connor are en route to Cresh Four, and I'm soon to follow."

This was a risky situation, if it was up to him..He'd call the bluff and move in to take out the enemies at hand. But there were way too many variables here; the number of explosives, who was in charge of the detonator..And more possibly. Usually he'd go right over Republic High command with this decision, but it was Gir's ship..

After Valkren's transmission, O'Connor had now entered Cresh Four, quietely as possible to get a visual on their enemies, tugging his Z-6 Rotary cannon along with him

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir considered [member="Valkren Calderon"]'s words about the pirate's threat. Some handheld explosives, particularly such devices such as custom Thermal detonators, could easily demolish a skyscraper. It didn't take much extrapolation to figure out that even a handful of them could seriously damage the ship, if the pirates possessed them. Such a wide swathe of destruction could potentially take down the ship, killing not only its occupants, but those in the city below him. From a quick glance, it almost seemed the obvious choice to let several hundred people escape than risk the deaths of thousands of people, especially with his own life in the balance. But two things weighed in on his mind to balance it: the first being the possibility of actually getting several hundred people to agree to a suicide plan. Gir doubted that a disparate lot of pirates and criminal enforcers could agree to such a plan without some particularly lethal infighting. The second was the particular employment of such weapons. While high explosives were common boarding weapons, such weapons tended to be shaped charges such as proton grenades, which allowed users to deal very contained and focused damage. Even if they were able to explode a wide variety of shaped explosives, the resulting explosion wouldn't likely enough to destroy the entire ship. When he considered the possibility of the stockpile mostly consisting of these rather common weapons than more exotic explosives, the risk seemed lower. Though it's probably best if I don't get too cocky...There are still lives at risk.

"Go ahead and proceed," said Gir, "take them down, and be careful. I'll be moving back our people away from the cargo hold, just in case there are any blasts. Stay safe out there."

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Saber team was right at it as soon as Gir gave the word.

Watson was soon to follow after both O'Riley and O'Connor had slipped into Cresh Four unnoticed, then followed by Sergeant Calderon and Michaels. All members of Saber team, with the exception of Specialist Young, were now in the bay, crouched in the shadows of several containers as they attempted to regain their bearings.

They kept communication and radio transmissions to little to none while they assessed the situation at hand, O'Connor remaining in his original position he had found between two pelican-style heavy-duty crates. The two crates provided just enough cover for him to slip his altered Z-6 Rotary cannon through and engage the enemy head-on, if needed.

O'Riley and Michaels both moved themselves to a better vantage point further down the horde of crates and supplies they had dropped into, weaving in and out of a mix of different resources that the Directorate had tugged along on their journey to take on Tessk. Eventually they reached an appropriate firing position on the further side of a crate, both commandos priming their weapons in preparation for the firefight ahead.

Valkren moved only a few yards to the left side of O'Connor, with Watson crouch-jogging along the crates past Valkren's own position. After their designated marksman finally found a suitable position to rain hell onto their opposition, he'd give Valkren the thumbs up before taking a peak over his own cover. Sergeant Calderon nodded to his friend before looking back to the opposite side at his other three 'pipehitters,' all following suit and giving him an array of thumbs up. Michael's thumb being the only mechanical one out there, ofcourse.

"Marking targets on our heads-up-display now." Watson spoke into their comms in a hushed tone as he took a line of sight over the piece of cover he had selected, attempting to identify the number of combatants and what their set up was.

"Sabers in position, Sir." Valkren stated this as he set the back of his head against his own piece of cover, taking a momentary breather before the impending fight. It had been a long day. One of their longest, that was for sure.

He hoped it was worth something.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

In Cresh Four...

As a long-term victual storage, Cresh Four's supply of water and rations held little value to the boarders. But that didn't mean that there was nothing of value to them there. The boarders huddled around in makeshift fighting positions and stockades made from stacking the ration crates and water barrels in the hold. Not too far away from [member="Valkren Calderon"] and the rest of Saber Team, one of the holdout groups sampled the finest Directorate rations available as they prepared for their final fight. One of the younger boarders bit out a chunk of a candy bar before looking around the group.

"No response yet?" said the boy, "not from any of the Pubs?"

"They ain't buying it," said a gaunt rodian wearing a blood-spattered suit of gray-green battle armor, "They'll be coming for us soon."

Julia Sal-Horn stepped out from behind one of the crates, accompanied by spindly pilot droid. The group silently observed her and RX-34 even as she eyed them up and down. She pointed at the rodian.

"You, come with us," beckoned Sal-Horn, "the plan's not dead yet. I need your skills."

The rodian enforcer hesitated before sauntering up to join the two as they continued through the cargo hold.

"What are we doing?"

"While everyone here is fighting," said Sal-Horn, "we're going to escape through one of the halls where we shot up the security monitors. RX-34 here has a ship docked not too far away."

"Why me?"

"I need the muscle if push comes to shove...now over here, I've got us a little hiding place near the exit for us to wait until the right moment..."

Even as she spoke, Gir gave the go ahead for Saber Team to begin the operation...

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Sergeant Calderon pushed his fist into the air, toward the group of pirates and mercenaries that Saber team was set up to engage, signaling his fire-team to begin their hopefully-last engagement with the pirate forces on-board the ship.

O'Connor started it out, spinning up his rotary cannon inbetween the two supply crates and remaining in the same position that he had found before. A fury of blue bolts from the end of his modified cannon spearheaded the engagement, spraying at the unsuspecting group of pirates and criminals too busy munching on Directorate rations to pay attention to their perimeter. "This is for what ya' did to Young's face, you bastards! Haha~"

O'Riley and Watson both popped up from their respected pieces of cover, picking their targets carefully as 'Irish' went for a more aggressive approach, while Michaels was busy rigging up a pair of thermal detonators he had snagged from the two Directorate marines, ready for their enemy to begin to entrench themselves in their make-shift defenses, whistling to himself the entire time and carrying on a rather catchy tune at that. Once they did so, he'd be oh so happy to remove the hostiles from their defensive positions with a well-placed grenade. He kept the rather oddly-rigged device in his mechanical hand, his short blaster in his other, waiting for the perfect moment to throw it, but keeping rounds down range to atleast help suppress the enemy.

Watson fired another burst into the fray, this time landing his mark on the kid that was so intent on feasting on the rations of their allies, soon after returning to cover to make a quick report. "Boss! Sal-Horn and the droid are both here! Orders?" He yelled from across their line of cover, the middle of Cresh four turning into a light show with the mix of blaster bolts and slugs flying from each side, bodies beginning to crumple to the floor on the enemies side..So far

"O'Riley, on me! Watson, take his place! We'll take care of the HVT's!" He stated, before crouch walking through the lines of supply crates and other supplies with O'Riley close on his heels. The Sergeant would pop up from moment to moment to engage the enemies' defense, until he reached the end of their own crate line. He waited and watched, with O'Riley directly behind him.

"Can't let them get away sir..Not after all this."

"I know, brother. They aren't stepping foot off of this ship, bet my life on it." Valk' responded to O'Riley's concern over the blasterfire, receiving a confirmation nod from his assault specialist, signaling his trust in the team's NCO. Valkren waited and watched for signs of Sal-Horn and her droid pilot to make their escape, hoping to use the firefight as a distraction to cut them off. He'd fight them directly to the ground if he had to, which is why he brought along O'Riley, one of his two burley assault specialists.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Chaotic small arms fire began to light up across the cargo hold as most of the boarders reacted to the sound of fighting more than actually facing threats of their own. An errant grenade went off near the rear of the hold, which briefly spurred the pirates and criminal enforcers to divide their attention between [member=Valkren Calderon"] and Saber Team and an unknown threat. On the bridge of the Ocean Tide, reports began to filter in of the sounds of fighting. Quite noticeably, there did not appear to be signs of massive explosions as threatened, which caused Gir to release the Republic soldiers and Directorate marines on the vessel to close in on the hold before attempting to bluntly wrestle it away from the boarders. The first stack of Directorate marines breached through a wall opposite of Saber Team, but they were quickly joined by other allied forces breaching through all of the available entry points into the hold itself. As the fighting intensified, RX-34, Julia Sal-Horn, and brutish rodian suddenly broke from their hidden spot towards an entry point.

The droid's built-in blasters unleashed a torrent of fire that cut down the Directorate marine securing the door and sent the nearby marines around him to secure new cover from the previously unseen threat. The rodian leveled a bulky-looking rifle to judiciously apply suppressing fire towards any of the soldiers who attempted to counterattack. In that moment of chaos, Sal-Horn tossed a pair of live thermal detonators behind, with the intent to cover their withdrawal with a massive explosion.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Michaels lobbed the modified grenade over his cover, before placing his rifle back into his grip, positioning himself over his cover to fire shots at the enemy combatants. As Saber team engaged the main force of the pirates and attempted to support the Marines that now entered Cresh Four, O'Riley and Calderon were now moving to cut off Sal-Horn and RX-34, plus the brute of a Rodian that now tagged along with them.

Valkren watched Sal-Horn toss the mix of thermal detonators, pushing himself out of cover. "Cover me!"

O'Riley's eyes went wide behind his visor, utterly confused at his NCO's decision, before screaming almost at the top of his lungs: "Covering Fire!!" He'd pull himself out of cover and let leash as many blaster bolts as his rifle could let fly before the barrel seemed as if it was about the melt.

The rest of the team caught wind aswell, switching their positions and attempting to draw as much agro from the enemies' positions as possible. Honestly, Sergeant Calderon didn't have much of an idea with what he was doing, running directly into enemy fire, toward live thermal detonators. This was possibly one of his worst decisions in combat, maybe his worst decision ever. It wasn't exactly him either, if anyone was watching the helmet cam, it was clear that this was something that Valkren would not do in his usual mindset.

Yet, something about this made Valk' feel at peace..Calm, even as he leveled his 'Valor' assault blaster and pulled back on it's trigger, facing the three 'targets' that made their way toward their planned exit, the five grenades the only thing inbetween him and Sal-Horn. He didn't care about taking them alive anymore, obviously displayed with the frantic pattern of his blaster. He couldn't let them get away. He just coul-

The detonators went off, throwing Calderon backward.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Explosions rocked through the cargo hold as Sal-Horn and her pair of companions attempted to escape the ship's hold. The sudden bright light and concussive force of the detonation tossed peoples and cargo containers across the hold as if they were mere toys. Faced with such force, both pirates adn allied soldiers huddled down behind their cover to avoid death and injury. Some succeeded in that task, while others were not as lucky as their cover moved or was consumed in the blaze. The chaos wrought left nearly everyone in a daze, though the allied soldiers tended to fare better than their adversaries as their armor absorbed part of the attack. The few boarders who had been equipped with battle armor had survived relatively unscathed as well, though the same could not be said of their lesser-equipped breathen. Many of them now had streams of blood leeking out of their bodies where shrapnel had met flesh. Others, while superficially appearing unhurt, remained slumped against cargo crates or sprawled out across the floor, victims of the sudden pressure shift and concussive force created by the chain reaction. Troopers and pirates alike began to peek around their positions as the fighting began anew, but the tide had swung. More of Major Goin's previously unengaged troopers were filtering into the cargo hold. Not only did the allied forces possess superior numbers now, but superior equipment and better physical condition as well. Handfuls of the ragged pirates and enforcers began to give themselves up when faced with such overwhelming odds.

Not far away from [member="Valkren Calderon"], the charred corpse of a rodian mercenary partially concealed Julia Sal-Horn. The female pirate captain slowly stirred, before frantically beginning to push her ally's body off her. Her head tossed and turned about, looking for RX-34, but the droid was nowhere to be found. She let out a loud grunt as she finally pushed the alien's body off her. She stumbled up onto her feet, only to sway and totter into one of the hallway's wall. The woman leaned up against the bulkhead, trying to regain her sense of balance.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Valkren couldn't move, his breathing became erratic as his eyes jolted open to the view of a cracked visor, his Heads-Up-Display flashing on and off as it attempted to regain it's stability in the systems. His body would suddenly regain feeling, coming back with an introduction of complete soreness and pain throughout his body, due to the mix of bruises and shrapnel wounds from the detonators that threw everything about inside of Cresh Four.

Groaning from behind his visor, Valkren flipped himself over onto his stomach, attempting to regain his thoughts as his hearing slowly came back to him. The only things audible were the sounds of yelling over the combat and blaster fire. He shook his helmeted head, bringing a knee up underneath his chest, looking to sight Sal-Horn alone and wandering. Valkren would make every attempt to movehimself from his crouched position, failing the first time around out of pure exhaustion and soreness. He'd move his gaze to Sal-Horn once more, seeing her past several blaster bolts slamming into Cresh Four's flooring move toward her exit point. Sergeant Calderon gritted his teeth, launching himself from his feet into as much of a 'sprint' as he could do in his hindered status, a blaster bolt slamming into his shoulder pad, singeing the skin underneath the leather pad. His entire body ached as he moved toward the pirate HVT, lowering his body to hopefully deliver a linebacker-style tackle in the midst of the hectic combat.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Sal-Horn heard the characteristic high squeal of a sole blaster rifle, and hearing it track towards her way, she straightened up, believing that it was coming for her rather than [member="Valkren Calderon"]. She pushed off from the wall, only for the soldier to slam into her. The woman's eyes widened in surprise as she fell forward with the man's arms around her. Her arms lashed out to grab something, anything to break her fall. But the corridors of the Tide had nor rails or other fixtures built into the bulwarks for her to grasp onto. Her hands hopelessly brushed against the cold metal wall until her right knee hit the metal deck hard with a surprisingly loud pop. Her flailing arms managed to partially break her fall onto the ground, but they did little to prevent Calderon's mass from keeping her down. She struggled to turn around and face the man, squirming in an attempt to break his hold on her while her left hand attempted to pass his arms to reach into a cargo pocket in her pants which concealed a tarnished vibro-shiv.