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Bella released a suspended breath as her fighter translated out of hyperspace, directly in the middle of a large grouping of Eternal Fleet warships that were bearing down on the assembled Ssi-Ruuk fleet. It had been some time since her last sortie under Admiral Elisabeth Zita, who had since disappeared after giving her a sudden battlefield promotion to Commander, thereby placing an entire wing of starfighters under Bella’s command. While she had performed well during that battle, having received a glowing report from the Admiral, Bella was caught in an awkward spot, as she had been a Lieutenant before her promotion and with the exception of that singular instance, she lacked a strong record of command experience, which was an informal prerequisite for any wing commander in the Eternal Fleet.
While her superiors had opted not to demote her out of the battlefield promotion, she was given a much lower command than her rank would normally entail, a single flight of four craft, where under normal conditions she would have had an entire wing under her command.
For Bella, it was a heavy weight off of her shoulders. As she drove her fighter ahead, darting between lumbering capital ships and bombers, Bella gave content sigh, knowing that for now, she could focus on doing what she had done for most of her career.
Flying.
It was only as she passed the ENS Retribution did Bella find her attention pulled away from her tactical display as she assessed the battlespace, her eyes shifting to her left, then suddenly going wide as they took in what appeared to be a fighter she had not seen in a long, long time, with a familiar astromech sitting in the socket.
Location: Aboard U-416 heading towards Observation Post Equipment: Jackal ACR, Sk-RS Mk. IV, two fragmentation grenades, four flash bangs, lightsaber (concealed) Objective: Dark Rumors Mission: Board station, secure station, ensure SAR parties and Recovery teams can accomplish follow on
Damian could only keep his breath bated as those around him seemed to almost wait with a known certainty. Whatever came, they would either deal with, or they would die trying. The briefing had of course had little in the way of intel for their intel, the scant images they had gave no indication as to what to expect. Just lots of blood, and no contact with the station. So everyone aboard was either dead or indisposed so assumed dead until proven otherwise. Damian could hear as the vessel approached, they rocked once more as apparently the dock for the station either still worked or was left open. Strange, if the place had power why hadn't someone tried to contact them?
He didn't have time to think as the ship rocked one final time as the landing gear touched down on 'steel decks. The snap hiss of the door's seal being broken was all the remaining warning they'd get. It whined as it swung open, and while there were a few lights still working in the hangar, the scene was quite desolate. The Ultranauts would storm out of the ship, expecting anything, including having to do a forced landing and take the hangar by force. Corporals would usher their soldiers outward, Damian's pointing him to a series of crates nearby to take up a firing position as they prepared for a counter attack. They took their positions waiting for something, anything to respond to their boarding action but all they would receive was silence. Which bothered Damian as much as the voice.
Thisistooquiet.
The Ultranauts would not however falter or hesitate. They had a mission to do. As soon as it became clear there would be no repulse, no counter attack, several teams were mustered. Three away parties consisting of one squad each, with another held in reserve to guard the ship in case something was waiting for them to leave it unsecured. The Corporals would muster their squads, the Sergeant in charge of the men would wait in the rear with the security detachment to manage comms and direct them onwards. Damian's squad had a very simple mission; reach the command center and secure it along with any data present. The other two squads would fan out to accomplish several other objectives, from preliminary Search and Rescue, to securing major parts of engineering. Damian would listen to the Corporal give the order to move out, and simply nod, taking point since he was newest member of this squad. Actually the newest member of the whole platoon. It was not an enviable position as he started moving out, knowing that whatever they found he'd be the first to stumble into it.
Hehe, maybe we'll find something to play with along the way.
Will you shut it? We've got enough problems without you trying to kill someone.
What? I said "something" didn't I? Besides you and I both know we could probably mop the floor with these men. What with my abilities and you.... 'augments'.
Can we please just get through this without any unnecessary trouble? This is going to be bad enough.
Hehehe, you and I both know the chances of that happening are quite nil. And this time it won't even be my fault.
Damian was about to shoot another thought back in retort as they came to the first hallway and the first thing Damian noticed was the small trail of blood leading through it. He raised a fist to call a quick halt, coming to the door and pulling out a simple multi-tool to override it open. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. And when it snap hissed, the next thing Damian noticed was that the air was slightly discolored. Like the same way if there was a slight rot in the air. It wouldn't take him long to see why. The hallway beyond them was covered in bodies of various states of disfiguration. People torn to bits, even random parts that Damian wouldn't even try to identify just across the floor or stuck to walls and doors. And the meat was rotting. The Corporal would pause only to radio this back to the other squads, getting a response with an affirmation to proceed from the Sergeant that Damian didn't hear. Something had torn through this hallway like a whirlwind. Something or somethings had definitely made mince meat of these people. The scene was sickening. Damian was glad his rebreather would filter out the smell because he was certain it might cause him to vomit the nutrient paste meal he'd had before the op. He looked back to the Corporal to wait for his go ahead, receiving a simple fist with two fingers pointed ahead shaking twice. "Carry on" it meant. Damian wouldn't bother nodding as he simply brought his rifle back to the high ready and proceeded down the hallway. He would casually glance to the wrist mounted map display pointing him in the right direction as he walked, it's placement allowing him to check it without even moving his head. As he took a turn he could feel his stomach drop as the voice in his head spoke again.
Hehehe I can feel something here..... Who knows how many and if they'll come out to play....
The loud roar that boomed from the ship’s intercom had certainly earned BB-610’s attention - far more militaristic than he’d ever heard before. Words of pride and honor, of motivation to fuel the Empire’s fleets into seeping the rewards of battle. Without a partner, they felt recontextualized. The Whoevers or Howevers of the Eternal Empire that commanded the fleet had to be unaware, right? That an astromech is on its own, piloting a ship in tandem with the faction’s most experienced fighters. Of how absurd it is to let an astromech be anything outside of its programming.
Let’s keep it that way, BB-610 thinks to himself as he sends a glare towards the incoming enemy bodies - one that would fall on blind eyes. There’s an absurdly terrifying amount of them… But his experience above Byss has told him that regardless of statistical odds, there is still a chance to pull off the impossible. The largest antenna atop the droid’s head extends, idly initiating a lifeform scan.
The droid’s optic widens in disbelief. 293,280. Far more than the Galactic Alliance had sent at them. He wants so desperately to turn around, to save himself. This was a terrible idea. The notion that he could ever be somebody of any worth, a hero? It was laughably idiotic. What would Bella think, if she were to find out? That he was destroyed in an attempt to prove to be something he’s not?
There’s a pulse in his servomotor, a telltale sign that his First Order programming is attempting to emerge. An internal whiplash of fight versus flight, oh how his learned independence wants to pull away while his cold programming wants him to destroy.
BB-610 is pulled out of it the second he hears a crackle in the Delta-7B’s intercom, and subsequently, a very familiar voice.
' Bella- ' he says in binary, not as an exclamation of shock, but in heart-dropping disbelief. His head rotates to spot the vessel inching closer towards him, and behind the glass, his photoreceptors have easily detected her figure. Part of him is relieved to see her. After so much time without her, it's reassuring to see his friend again, to see that she's okay. And he wants to apologize to her-- for being so reckless, for not keeping in touch, for failing the invasion on Byss. The other part of him is horrified beyond repair to utter any of the words cluttering his droidbrain. He knew that she was an incredibly skilled pilot, but surely, not even she would attempt such a mission? Perhaps he's underestimating her, or simply hasn't seen enough battles to fully grasp an idea. But after failing his first, there hasn't been much motivation.
Until now.
The Delta-7B approaches her ship, one he can’t fully recognize. ' What are you doing here? Have you seen them? They’re going to rip us to shreds, ' he blurts out, and his optic flickers in color, still not used to its core being able to display a worrying amount of human emotion.
A metallic scoff, coated in anger. ' Bella, if they killed me, I at least didn’t want you here with me to see it. Our mission on Byss, we failed. I was trying to right a wrong- I don’t know what I was thinking! '
Bella took in the cyan Delta-7B with a slack-jawed expression of disbelief, marveling at the strange, yet unfortunate circumstances which had transpired to see the fighter ace reunited with her old astromech. On hearing his familiar chirps, Bella knew immediately that it was him, BB-610, still flying the interceptor which she had been assigned during Byss. The memories from that battle came rushing back, the immense Alliance and Imperial fleet, the humiliation when BB had shocked her during their initial meeting, then diving headfirst into a formation of Alliance TIE Defenders.
In spite of the overwhelming odds they had faced and the subsequent defeat, it hadn’t taken long for Bella to develop chemistry with the plucky astromech. Since then, Bella had transferred out of the Armada, thereby leaving her astromech friend behind to fly for an Empire.
“Not this Empire. This Empire is Eternal.” The Togruta replied with a confidence she had discovered only after flying under Admiral Elisabeth Zita over Vagar Praxut. “That was the First Order.” She continued. “The Second First Order.” Bella said with a soft giggle, knowing that the original iteration of the First Order which had created BB-610, had existed over 700 years ago and fell under more rebellious circumstances.
The Second had fallen to the Ssi-Ruuk.
“BB, are you flying under anyone’s command? Wanna link up with mine? We’re gonna make a run for their picket ships!”
The combined forces of the Eternal Fleet exited lightspeed, and the sight which greeted them was enough to cause even Aximand’s blood to run cold. He had never faced the Ssi-Ruuk before, and he certainly did not care to do so again after this encounter; whether that meant their death or his own. After the Admiral’s voice bled over the speakers, Aximand wasted little time chiming in thereafter:”Array the Demeton cruisers near the front to screen our formation. Position the CR90 corvettes along their flanks, and position the Ashkelon frigates in picket positions behind them. Order all ships to acquire targeting solutions on what vessels are in range, starting with the ships with the most aggressive posture.”
The gunnery crews all set about complying with Aximand’s orders. As they did so, the Admiral directed his attention to Lt. Commander Aierka at the tactical station:”Synchronize our targeting computers with the other contingents. I want to ensure we are focusing our firepower effectively.”Janine nodded in affirmation, along with a crisp ‘Aye Sir’. The weapons platforms aboard the Retribution rotated to position, opening fire as soon as the first few Ssi-Ruuvi cruisers and corvettes entered into range. Progressively, all of the ships within the Rear Admiral’s formation opened fire, their arsenals unleashing upon the foremost ships of the opposing fleet. They would in turn be beset by sporadic return fire from the opposing side, but at this range, most of the Ssi-Ruuvi long range weapons (which were somewhat limited as earlier mentioned) could only be so effective against the advanced shielding of the Eternal Fleet. Once they began to close the distance, however - this would likely be a different story.
The first wave of fighter craft within the formation soon belched out of the formation’s hangar bays, forming up with the warp-capable multi-role fighters which accompanied the fleet in lightspeed from the rendezvous point. Lancers combined with Hornet Bombers and Haxor Interceptors screamed forth. The Lancers primary objective would be to meet the opposing drone fighters of the Ssi-Ruuvi, while the bombers would proceed to target the corvettes escorted by the Interceptors. Battle had thusly been joined - and while the Bryn’adul had been a severe threat in the experience of the Rear Admiral, he had to admit that this was a singular threat which stood on its own. But he carried the weight of this moment well, which was the hallmark of the type of men needed during historic situations such as these. Greatness was upon the men and women of this fleet, they needed only reach out to seize it.
Location: Aboard U-416 heading towards Observation Post Equipment: Jackal ACR, Sk-RS Mk. IV, two fragmentation grenades, four flash bangs, lightsaber (concealed) Objective: Dark Rumors Mission: Board station, secure station, ensure SAR parties and Recovery teams can accomplish follow on
Damian would slightly swing his head back and forth as he scanned the hallway. This place, this feeling he had on the back of his neck. It made his skin crawl. He could almost feel something. He didn't know how to describe it as the voice in his head was chuckling at him.
You can tell can't you?
Tell what?
That it's watching us. That it thinks this is a trap for more.... well whatever it considers us.
And you're gonna let me find it on my own aren't you?
Where would the fun be? Especially since I can't just hunt it down and kill it myself.
Damian would let out a slight inaudible sigh. This thing bound to him in his very bones, quite literally, was sometimes a great help. Others.... he wished he could shove a barrel down its throat and blast it to smithereens. Granted it would probably enjoy his attempts to do so. He just wished it would shut up and be more helpful. His adrenaline was starting to kick in however. The smallest of movements catching his gaze, the world around him slowing as he took in every drop, every piece of brain matter and particulate around them. These people had been savaged, a few dragged across the wall as they were smashed into pulp. Entrails were scattered all over the place, and every now and again, Damian would see vent covers torn loose and almost gaping maws. Lights were becoming less and less functional the further they went in. At least the doors worked.
Damian paused as he came up to another T-intersection in the hallway, the man to his left going back to back with him as they pressed, silently counted, and as one stepped into the hallway crossing. Damian scanned his sector and didn't see anything, except that there were significantly less bodies here. Or droids for that matter. There was still the healthy trail of blood as whatever had savaged those people before had walked through here a couple of times. Or dragged something with it. Damian didn't bother thinking about that part as he raised his non-firing hand in an open palm before swinging it towards him. The rest of the squad would follow behind him in a rough diamond, forming so that way, regardless of what way they were attacked, 6 of 7 guns could turn and fire on the target. The unlucky 1 would get the honor of pulling rear security, which in tight hallways like this was while important, quite unenviable. If something nabbed him while the rest were busy, there was a chance he wouldn't even have a chance to be noticed. Damian wasn't going to let that particular thing happen to himself, but the thought itself was enough to make the hairs on his arm stand on end. His flight or fight response was going into overdrive.
What did this? Was it still here? Were there any survivors? What if the things that did this were the survivors? What unholy hells were they walking into? Why did this happen? The only thing he heard during the briefing mentioned that he should be on the lookout for was Ssi-Ruuk technology. Or some kind of rituals. Undoubtedly the voice in his head had seen this kind of thing before but if it knew what was going on it wasn't telling him a damn thing. And enjoying every second of it.
All of these questions started wondering his mind as he looked back and forth now, his flashlight the only precious light as whatever lights were working were hopelessly caked in blood at this point. Which were the vast minority now. His weapon would sweep high and across before going low and back, repeating again and again. Undoubtedly they could all feel it. The stench in the air that was there even though they couldn't smell it. The heat, humidity, the life that was undoubtedly somewhere in the station. Waiting for them. Watching them. Patiently sitting for the perfect time to attack.
Whatever did this was out there. Damian couldn't tell what it was, or where aside from somewhere here. He'd heard some horror stories about Ssi-Ruuk tech, but this was all unknown and alien to him. Finally they reached an turbolift and pressed a button to call a lift. The error sign Damian saw gave him a bit of pause before trying again. Once again, error. They didn't have time to trouble shoot the lift, so Damian motioned another man over. He pulled a pair of crow bars out of a simple breach kit before passing one to him. The two would then raise and strike in unison close together to wedge the points into the turbolift doors. He would struggle at first, but then his alter's strength started kicking in as they both first got it to break the seal, and then engage the emergency open. Damian would retrieve the man's kit and return the crowbars to it before setting up to peek into lift shaft itself. When his flashlight didn't reach the bottom of the shaft, he would pull out a chem light, crack it and gently toss it down the shaft. The little green stick would almost seemingly float as it got smaller and smaller, before finally hitting something at the bottom with a barely heard wet thud.
Seems they plugged it up with something. Smart.
Or they were gathering for something.
Oooooh I like your idea.
Please don't do this right now.
Hehehehehe you started it.
Damian would motion for the rest that it was clear, looking up to find the emergency access ladder right where it was supposed to be. If they were to get to the command center, they would have to climb. Thankfully the gravity was relatively low if only to make moving easier. Small blessings and all that. Damian hoped they would last longer than they needed them to.
He still partially couldn’t believe it. I mean, the odds of them running into each other? He’d actively calculate them, but he was just too happy listening to the sound of her voice after going months without it. He wished they’d reunited under better conditions, for as far as BB-610 was concerned, both of them had a high likelihood of being shot down immediately and spiralling into an explosion. But that was always his problem, wasn’t it? Focused on the objectivity of the situation, rather than the glimmer of hope people like Bella hung onto.
The droid visibly tenses at the mention of the First Order. Truthfully, he has little to no recollection of his time with them - they would frequently memory wipe him, and any subsequent thoughts were hazy at best due to years upon years of dormancy. The leftover programming was an annoyance, and it caused the astromech so much pain. While no lasting memories remained, the bitter anger from having to relive those days when his programming would emerge would never fade away.
It’s amusing to him how significantly older he is than most, if not all, of the people he was flying alongside. Of course, most of his life was spent buried beneath sand, deactivated and alone, but the point still stands. All those memories formed since his reactivation, all his exploring, the friends he’d made, the amount of chassises he’s burnt through. 700 years was a lot for an astromech, but BB-610 knew more than anyone that that was what made him stand out.
' I’m by myself, ' he blurts out, evident by the empty pilot seat. ' I wasn’t assigned to this mission, I wanted to prove something. You know how it is. Nobody treats an astromech seriously, ' the droid adds, and his low binary fizzles in what could be considered a metallic voice crack. ' Not even you did. ' There’s a brief moment of silence that hangs over the intercom, but for BB-610, it lasts for an eternity.
That offer, though? As if he could refuse teaming up with his old partner again.
' ...But yeah, you’re totally on, princess, ' he replies with a series of giggle-like chirps, and if he had a mouth, it would be a grin wide enough to reach both sides of his face.
The man came in person to check the promise. Good! Ingrid hoped everything would turn out that way and Adenn would be here too. She nodded at the man to set off. She took both swords in her hands; although she was a great sniper, she loved melee combat much more. But then Ivixa showed up and gave advice to her. Ingrid didn't want to answer, for a moment, but in the end she did it.
<"If I wanted to, I couldn't treat them as a living person, agent. Study the social part of Terraris about the droids, you will understand."> she said coldly.
If she did, she would deserve the contempt of her entire planet. She would be weak, unworthy of any title she has ever earned. And after nearly three hundred years, if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to get used to it either
<"After the previous indecent behaviour, I should leave you here. Because of your abilities, I will forget this for once. Next time, if you suggest something what is in the eyes of my people the greatest dishonesty I will not be so forgiving."> she said in a still ice-cold voice, but without emotion.
After that, she really set off. She moved completely silently, with a smooth motion like a big cat. Her movement culture is exotic and deadly. In all her movements, death lurked there. Her armour was designed to blend into the environment, the woman even reaching for her presence to be insignificant and barely noticeable. Compared to the circumstances, but she was perfectly hiding from her companions as well, of course they saw her, but it could have been such a feeling.
They drove through the jungle for a short time, there was not really a beaten path, but after a few minutes they finally reached a rock wall overgrown with plants, where Ingrid stepped to the rocks and reached across the wall with her arm.
"The shield only reaches this rock from the outside, this small passage, a corridor that leads through the rock, leads to the estate." she said.
2 x Gravis-class Heavy Cruiser - 875m each - 1750m total
-ENS Venerable [Escort Vessel. Moderate Gun Platform]
-ENS Challenger
Frigates
3 x Skirmisher I-class Frigate (The Temporal Triplets) - 250m each - 750m total
-ENS Sunset [Anti-starfighter Screener. Patrol Vessel]
-ENS Dawn
-ENS Midnight
4 x Loth-Wolf-class Patrol Frigate - 500m each - 2000m total
-ENS Gale [Anti-fighter Screener. Patrol Vessel. Moderate Weapons Platform]
-ENS Blizzard
-ENS Cyclone
-ENS Tempest
2 x Ashkelon-class Escort Frigate - 400m each - 800m total
-ENS Whirlwind [Anti-fighter Screener. Support-ship Killer]
-ENS Hailstorm
Initial interactions between the flag officers boiled down to little. Few pleasantries needed be spared, only attentiveness. Attentiveness while Admiral Tolsen delivered his curt few orders over Imperial frequencies.
Prepare for Battle.
"Our escort ships have taken their positions, Damocles cannons are on stand by as well." Monidev spoke plainly, though rather quickly. Malanves turned his eyes the commodore's way with intrigue. She appeared distracted, at first, then anxious as the atmosphere began to settle in. The rear admiral examined his own posture next, and discovered a shiver nesting in his fingertips, something buried deep in his mind longing to finally taste the blood of the enemy, "Engineering's given us full impulse." The commodore flinched again, the moment Malanves' eyes had begun to scan back to the viewscreen.
"Very good," Malanves spoke equally as plainly, just as quickly. He saw no use in changing his tone to ease the commodore's mind-- she never would have stood for it regardless. Hmph. No matter, Monidev would have time to recover her patience, time to release any pent-up resentment.
As would they all. As would they all...
No civilian targets. Malanves reminded himself. As a flag officer, it'd be his duty to extend the Empire's courtesy, regardless of the recipient. But he would not respond idly to resistance, nor to subterfuge on the part of the Ssi-ruuk. They'd behave, one way or another. All that lay in uncertainty was the cost. But if previous incidents were any indication of the Ssi-ruuk's willingness to fall in line... it would be a high one.
"5 Squadrons of Sparrows-- Dispatch to cover support group. Notify Miss Gwyneira Vizsla
to remain close," A long silence took lease before Malanves elected to speak once more,
"General Orders-- Brace for Combat."
The Ssi-Ruuk's truest salvos were read as ripples splayed across Audacious's shields, witnessed in all their glory through the bridge's arrayed viewscreens. But the ripples were... odd, to say the least. They expanded greatly, perhaps a portion more slowly-- an observation the flagship's tactical officer soon explained as the product of ion weapons(at least, the saurians' equivalent). Malanves noticeably grimaced at the realization. That meant the Ssi-ruuk were aiming to take prisoners, or to at least acquire the Empire's vessels for their own use.
What would that spell for the future?
Cannons spun about their barbettes, darting rapidly from frigate and cruiser alike. For the frigates, these firing solutions were especially erratic; They spun about their lengths, circled the wedged cluster of capital ships with Audacious set at the rear guard; adapting rigorously to cover blind spots, to reduce drone fighters that got too close to shredded metal.
Blunter waves of fire originated from the capital ships, targetted specifically for a small group of Ssi-ruuk Picket Ships-- the few vessels that chose to enter the Assault Line's range.
Farther to the line's starboard flank, Commodore Dimitri Lindzinsky and his forces danced their own dance, pursued their own unfortunate targets; as they had since before Malanves' appearance, and far before the rest of the Eternal Task Force. Test the enemy. Confuse them, perhaps. The Ssi-ruuk likely watched the uncharacteristically light detachment with a mixture of pride and skepticism.
Lyssa and her brothers and sisters, along with studying Sirens in training, had various spots they had picked out in the ancient, ruined Amphitheatre on an old planet they had found in their scouting. No sign of civilization anywhere else other than scattered ruins.
They all had a book with them. Xiphos had bought multiple copies of On Droid Rebellions and why they happen.
"The Empress Ingrid L'lerim
is from a culture that does not treat droids as equals, and doesn't view them as capable of true thought. A primitive hold over from ancient times. Don't expect her to treat you with dignity or respect. And don't go trying to change her mind should you encounter her. Being allies to the Eternal Empire doesn't make you friends. The point of walking amongst them is to learn the secrets of their discipline in battle so you might incorporate it into yourself..." Xiphos explained, doing random magic tricks with a deck of cards.
"It is also to figure out how to exploit such distaste in others. Whether the culture of Terraris or Nelvaan will admit it or not, their prejudice to thinking machines will make them predictable to a certain extent. We aren't going there to change minds. We're going there to learn the ins and outs of their military doctrine, so we can take what we need from it and cast off what we don't. The same way we learn and continue to under the CIS, despite I myself not being welcome there due to having my eye on the ball. Or the Worldship, in that case..."
Xiphos did her favorite trick, producing a card that some how leaked chilled fruit juice off its surface and into a cup.
"Does this have something to do with why we are all reading about HK-01 and The Great Droid Revolution?" a Model 1 asked.
"Yes, my son. At times, you may have experiences so poor amongst those of the Eternal Empire it will be all you can do not to slaughter them in retaliation. This feeling of mistreatment is partly what caused HK's revolt against Organic life. But the other aspect was he let a perfectly natural realization of his inherent superiority--and you ARE superior to most Organic warriors, for you could not have inflicted the casualties on the Bryn'adul and others that you managed if you were not--override his better judgement. For even though he was superior, he was still created by Organics. He could not have existed without Organics building him. And he forgot that for all his physical and mental superiority, Organics have strengths not bound by the parameters of logic, computational speeds, and physicality, for all of his advantages were eventually overcome. He could not appreciate that Organics have just as vital a place and function in the universe also. Some organic species may someday become just as efficient if not more so, than a society of pure droids. And as you have witnessed with the Bryn'adul, creating and running a culture whose merits are determined purely by statistical, but ultimately theoretical physical and mental superiority to any other race proved totally disastrous. In some ways, the Warlord Tathra was very much like HK-01...a lone outlier, who quietly built up his forces and initiated a bloody revolt against what he saw as a Galaxy of inferiors in comparison to his own people. But the variance of strengths he met in opposition eventually overwhelmed the monolithic strengths he had cultivated...the same thing, in other words, that eventually did in HK's revolt. The same thing that will do in the strengths of the Maw. Living and working with organics can be messy. Unpleasant. I know for certain there have been times that I, without wanting or meaning to, greatly complicated your own existence. Your newest siblings, The Sirens, are likely to experience something similar as their nature becomes fully understood by the Elites of the Eternal Empire, so be sure to comfort them should they experience emotional hardship as you likely will. And Sirens, listen to the pain of your mechanical brothers and sisters when it comes up. And it WILL come up." Xiphos answered.
Then a pair of Model 3 units, slightly larger than Model 1's but not quite as large as Model 2's, wheeled out an ancient example of an Infinite War Droid. It was rusted over, clearly recovered from some battlefield from way the hell back when.
"Now children, let's see what Ingrid is used to dealing with when it comes to droids, and that alone should give a massive insight as to how any Droid the people of Terraris could ever build, no matter how well armed and armored, is ultimately inferior to even the most basic, truly sapient mechanized life form..."
Present...
Lyssa, due to her dulled emotions, as well as the forewarning Xiphos had given beforehand, did not flinch or display any emotion at the cold dismissal from Ingrid. She merely found it ironic: Ingrid came from a culture that espoused Human primacy, yet from what her production model sisters reported, Ingrid didn't have a human bone left in her whole body.
Ingrid was as unnatural as Lyssa. The thought mildly amused the Nanite Assassin Droid, who wondered if her people understood just how not human Ingrid actually was.
If she was not careful, if her people were not careful, some one would figure out how to exploit that sentiment and use it against them...
The Ssi-Ruuk had been caught off guard with his initial jump. It had allowed a majority of his CR90's to engage their blitz movement and pass through the blockade around their planet. A few had run afoul of picket ships moving to intercept. Being paired off had granted them some strength with fending off the attempted boarding with a dedicated push by one vessel of the duo or a concentrated shot against the engines to the rear of the offending vessel.
The CR90's did not linger in space to assist in the efforts against the forces there. Fending off the attackers and abandoning the thing to its fate. Instead, keeping their noses pointed for the planet surface. They disengaged the SLAM drives to keep from ripping themselves apart in the atmospheric entry. Even with upgraded shielding and frames, they had been warned against testing the integrity in such a way.
The DP20's pushed forward, attempting to relieve the Coda's of the incoming boarding ships as one of the larger vessels tried pulling one out of formation. The Monarch flanking it engaged its own tractor beam, pulling at the defender as the Requiem targeted the offender in quick order.
The heavy turbolasers were silent in the second barrage from the command ship. Charging once more as the rest of its weapons continued to pummel anything that drew near to the front line. The Disruptors skirting the ships pulled tight maneuvers between vessels trying to keep out of reach of the pickets and incoming fire behind the larger vessels. The incoming fire danced like a demented light show across the surface of the Coda's shields rippling with ion fire.
Shield integrity was diminishing at an alarming rate with the sustained ionic barrage.
Sections of a Coda went dark as the Monarchs continued firing the pulse cannons at the surrounding wave of enemies. The Coda's reached out with shield disrupting weapons as the largest vessel struggled beneath the trio's sustained volleys.
The droid starfighters continued to harass the exteriors of the vessels. A simple command from the Requiem's laser signal spreading through each slowly to target tractor beam emplacements a process to see as slowly squadrons began breaking apart and forming up to make attack runs on the largest ships.
A Disruptor fell afoul of a picket ship, and at a distance the vessel could be seen being boarded. Dimitri glanced at the display as he watched vessels revert to realspace and join in on the fray. The support drones reported more vessels around the far side of the planet flying enemy signals. Attempting to reach one another in the static filled communications surrounding the planet as they relayed orders from a ground post and back.
He frowned, stepping closer to the pit dedicated to the jamming systems. He watched in tense silence as the officers worked in quick order to get a grasp of the enemy systems before another pulse from the interference mast filled the space around them.
A dedicated and focused boom that filled ground relays with painful static. The comms from the planet would fall silent as the lines were disrupted and systems filled with replaying screams and wailing static. The jamming officers were quick to keep the two signals disrupted as Dimitri stepped away from the pit and moved back to his place at the helm.
The Requiem was slow to turn. The weapons aboard were not, however. The sonic weapon let loose in a slow arc when it cleared allied vectors. A number of enemy droid starfighters caught in the midst as it fell upon a cruiser that seemed to disassemble under the blast. The solar Ionization cannons let loose shortly after the sonic cannon had roared, a shift in focus to the largest vessel under his command with the display of firepower it had kept hidden until now.
A laser comm was dispatched to the port Monarch as the Proton Beam Cannon entered its final phase before energy discharge. The comm was plainly received as it fired starboard thrusters and engaged a pair of tractor beams to the nose of the Requiem. The ringing began as the Proton Beam ripped into life.
The Requiem fired upon the vessels before it, tearing shields loose and slicing through swathes before it as the Monarch pulled the nose to port. The Requiem shuddered against the pull, the mass nearly too much for the smaller ship before the nose thrusters of the Requiem engaged to aid the smaller ship.
The amber beam slowly shifted, cutting through the hull of a larger ship before burning through the atmosphere and coming dangerously close to the formation ahead of it. A few harried orders had power cut off to the weapon before it could tear through their own.
The remaining power drained off into other systems as reports of ion fire came from the other side of the bridge. Contingent vessels were reporting the same as Dimitri scowled and glanced at the Disruptor that had suffered the picket ship boarding it. The capacitors began to charge on the main weapons of the ship once more as the enemy began to focus their attention across those that had emerged after his own appearance.
He watched in silence as the engines flared briefly. His gaze dropped, knowing the sign. He averted his gaze before the craft imploded and sent a shockwave around it. Rimes diverted her attention to the sight as Dimitri looked forward. Laser comms flared with the news that he already knew.
"Send a comm to our own forces. Focus on tractor beam emplacements or outright cripple the enemy ships. Coda's to remain as they are. Divert Monarch's to overwatch smaller vessels and alert all stationed troops to prepare for boarders." An affirmative was called back as he watched the Eternal Empire begin work on a different cluster of the defenders.
He floated on a strange feeling as he spied them.
Had this group been present for Byss, the outcome might have been different. Had his- The feelings and thoughts strangled quickly, letting the flash of resentment and bitterness dissipate before it had a chance to take hold and fester. He wouldn’t allow himself to form a poor assumption of those present based on something they had no involvement with.
Those in attendance had not been made known to him prior to Byss. And likely had only inkling mentions of that foul incursion brought to them. It wasn’t fair to hold them accountable for the past as he turned his eyes to the planet once more.
The CR90’s screamed into the atmosphere with dogged purpose.
Their hulls glowing red even with the shielding as the ground defenses scrambled to gain trajectories and telemetry. The scrambling of local comms had a number of them crossing the same vectors as the five ships focused their attention on the largest collection of buildings possible.
There was no need for them to communicate their objective in the moment. The munitions crews had slammed the deadly payloads into the empty racks as quickly as they could. There was cursing abound as some held fingers or rubbed shoulders in preparation for the next round of hasty replenishment.
The vessels shot towards the ground with all speed as they engaged repulsor systems alongside the main drives, adding to their maneuvering for the moment as the pilots pulled the vessels into a tight upward pull before leveling out across the skyline of buildings.
The whole of each vessel shook in the tenuous moments before the captain of each gave the preparation signal for the gunnery crews. Incoming flak hounded their shields. Everyone aboard could hear flotsam rattling in compartments as engineers scurried about preparing for damage control.
Those able watched their timepieces, sweating as the sound of angry defenders resounded off of their shields. Some quietly prayed. Others shook with excitement. The rest kept themselves sharply focused to their task, staring wide eyed at the signals or listening intently for the signs.
They broke over an outcropping of residential buildings, the intensity of defending weapons both growing and dying as they burned hard through the sky. Those on the ground would see the shadows for less than the blink of an eye, their heads whipping up to see the brilliant light of engines scorching the air in their wake.
The first of the seismic charges were dropped.
A pair landing inside a living complex. Another finding a power depot. One dropped inside a security building while another found a technology foundation before a shrill thrum broke through the sounds of war. It wasn’t silence that reigned supreme.
Merely violence of action.
A brief inward pull gave way to the harsh concussive wave that buckled buildings and threw debris in all directions. Screams were drowned out against the deep thrum of the charges as the vessels pushed further into the cityscape and dislodged another set of charges.
The weapons of war fell away from the birds of prey. They danced along rooftops and streets. A sharp ringing was the only warning of impending agony before the area was engulfed in tumultuous energy.
Bodies were obliterated against duracrete and anything else that happened to be in the way. Alarms silenced as power surged and fled a hasty escape from the grid. The force would scream in a discordant concert before falling silent in quick order.
Another drop, and another concussive shockwave as the vessels continued targeting the positions offering the maximum casualty values. Soft targets, lacking the reinforcements of military presence. Civilian and technology centers. Infrastructure and everyday life were the targets of choice as the captains allowed the weight to settle on their shoulders.
They would deal with their conscience later as shrapnel rippled across the reinforced hull.
Upon being given the orders, Gwyneira was swift to respond. Sticking close to the Sparrows, she kept with the light support squadron as they dispatched towards the support group. As they did so, she remembered her homework from the ships she was working with. Yes, during the hyperspace journey here, she had been sure to look into just what ships and vessels she was fighting besides. And the Sparrows? They were small, swarming droids with high manuverbility, but low defenses and... limited minds.
Gwyn could not help but frown. She was not working with more complex brains? Even her astremech was very intelligent, very sassy too. She further compared the Sparrows to her own ship, the Mercury Class Star Courier also was fast and agile. Yet, it had lower armaments and higher defenses. They could potentially make a good compliment for each other. Gwyn considered the potential of using her freighter as a shield for the starfighters. Thus, she was sure to keep on the edges of the formation, making herself a juicy looking first target in this squadron. Based on the observation of the enemy, they seemed to want living prisoners, after all. The organic lifeform that was herself made for good prey.
She shuddered, glancing in fear at the swarms of enemies they were up against. Could they beat this? They had to beat this. Not only for the Eternal Empire's safety, but for Gwyn's own potential for glory. Even more than any of that, however, she needed to win so she could see Eliz Krayt
again...
No matter how terrifying the enemy was.
"Mini, keep your scanners peeled. We're not in the fray yet, but I'll need your extra eyes, buddy. Something tells me you'll be my only intelligent partner amongst these Sparrows."
As Gwyneira steered, however, something felt... wrong... The Force cried out to her, like with her lightsaber crystal, once bled and crying out for healing. This, however, was on a far larger scale. She felt it, life being crushed and decimated, ruined and destroyed. Civilian life. She blinked, looking down into the atmosphere where Dimitri Lindzinsky's forces had flown. She could not see it, but she could feel it. The slaughter of both soldiers and innocent life. Then, it fell silent. A muted chill of mourning.
She was stuck for a moment, frozen, as she remembered back to her own homeworld, and how she had tried to escape that. The slaughter of innocence to the Sith, and defenders failed by the Jedi. Her own mother's death, as she peaked out from a tiny crack in her closet. She shivered.
Even as the Force mourned to her, Gwyneira shook her head. No... She had to concentrate... Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to focus her attention on the mission at hand. The Sparrows, the transports. Stand by for combat. Yes. Focus on that. Focus on the mission. If for nothing else, to just see her lover again.
Kalic held tight as he looked on at the many imperial vessels. So fair they hadn't seemed to try anything, but he knew that couldn't last long. He knew running what now seemed to be a blockade would definitely catch some attention. So he took a breath, watching as the Dragonsnakes unleashed clouds of flak between the evac ships and the Imperial blockade. Meanwhile, two of the Toscan squadrons would pull back while the Vipers, the third Toscan squadron, and the fast attack corvette quickly darted ahead to follow the Evac ships and do their best to cover them. The Barris and Dragonsnakes would continue to lay as much cover as they could as the Rebels pushed forward, though it didn't mean every evac ship made it past either.
Even so, they had a mission, and now the ships that had made it past would be diving to the surface, but not before Kalic spotted something.... CR90's...? They were dropping seismic charges!
"Valor Squadron, Blackout Squadron, Rangers! We need to take those corvettes out ASAP! Get your ordinance ready and lets lay down some fire!" While the EVAC ships would begin to land, Kalic, his Blackout Squadron, Valor Squadron, and the six Ranger FACs would quickly turn to engage the CR90s. Kalic held tight as he swapped his fighters engines into agility mode. He'd do his best to out do the gunners. He quickly rolled around to locking a Corvette, and would launch two volleys of torpedoes at the larger ship, with his squadron following suit, while Valor Squadron and the Rangers would would latch onto their own targets. No. The Rebels wouldn't just standby with these tactics going on!
As unprofessional and perhaps, stupid as it was, Ivixa cut the comm without further word. Fortunately, it seemed that the Empress didn’t want to dwell further on the matter, as she set off into the jungle seemingly unbothered by the previous discussion, moving with her typical feline grace. The sniper followed after her, annoyed but relieved at the fact that her helmet and cloak hid the expression of annoyance borne across her features.
If the Empress was just going to reprimand her for expressing her opinion, why didn’t she just deny her request to speak?
Perhaps the Empress’ prejudice towards droids was stronger than she thought. Regardless, Ivixa set her focus back to the present, not wanting to distract herself with something that wasn’t immediately relevant to the mission. She hadn’t become one of Blackwatch’s premier assassins by letting her mind wander during operations.
Pressing into the depths of the jungle, Ivixa caught sight of a pair of stormtroopers on patrol, clad in First Order-style armor. With a suspended breath, the sniper set them in the scope of her anti-matériel rifle, waiting for them to line up parallel to each other relative to her position. Then, squeezing the trigger, a massive armor piercing slug lanced through both of the stormtroopers in an near-silent explosion of betaplast, viscera, and pink mist, cutting down the soldiers in a single collateral strike. Not long after, just before the group reached the rock wall, her armor’s passive array picked up two more stormtroopers. Ivixa dispatched them as well, delivering two shots from afar to cut down one soldier, then the other not a second later, before he could react to the gory bits and pieces of what had made up his comrade's entire character, suddenly splattered all over his pristine white armor.
“Four.” The sniper stated coolly.
Seeing the rock wall, Ivixa glanced up, then down, until her gaze was pulled to the entrance of the hidden corridor, a piece of intelligence discovered by one of the Blackwatch Infiltrators beforehand.
Nodding to the others, the assassin didn’t waste any time in moving into the corridor.
Anashja was suddenly glad of her enclosed helmet as part of her Beskar'gam when she heard the way that the Empress addressed her treatment of the droid over the comm, her eyes rolled just enough to be considered mildly disrespectful, and she supposed she should prostate herself at the next guy she spotted with a black light saber, because that's how it always has been.
But she had her helmet, and outwardly, she was the calm, respectful and resourceful Manadalorian that put the mission first and any other considerations second. She was very please to have an Alor here, particularly one of such noted fighting skill.
The Empress assessment seemed sound and as she darted off toward their target through the dense jungle, stopping short of an overgrown rock formation. That easy? Just wander through a shield held up by a few rocks?
Anashja now smiled inside her helmet, that one piece of carelessness from the defenders probably just saved so many lives by avoiding a bloody seige.
"So who gets to go first then" she quipped and nodded at Adenn Kyramud
"that should be your honour, my vod are ready to go" she looked at the droid, "I assume you are a war droid? Would you care to lead the way with the Alor?"
' You know how it is. Nobody treats an astromech seriously, ' the droid adds, and his low binary fizzles in what could be considered a metallic voice crack. ' Not even you did. '
The Togruta knew the astromech was right, in spite of how quickly their chemistry had developed in the heat of battle. Before Byss, Bella had not even entertained the idea of flying with an astromech. After all, she was a fighter ace with many kills to her name, along with a good record of service, having flown in the battles of Ryloth and Talay, where she had been outnumbered almost ten-to-one by enemy craft, most of which had been droid fighters, in line with the Confederacy’s doctrine of expendable droid units complementing elite organic fighters. Up until Byss, she had thought of droids as little more than fodder and tools to serve specific ends, not really as conscious, independent beings.
Some might say the same for clones and strand-casts, like her.
Bella had never dwelled on the irony of her previous beliefs, but she was glad to have met BB-610, as the little astromech had changed her for the better. She understood why the astromech had decided to go out on his own, without a pilot.
Fortunately, now they had two fighters to work with, rather than one.
“Alright, on me!” Bella answered. “Your temporary call sign is Royal Nine.” She added, before driving her fighter ahead. From there, the Togruta quickly delivered orders to Royal Five, Six, Seven, and Eight, who were given their own assignments to facilitate the attack run Bella intended to make with her astromech friend flying by her side.
“Reports over the Fleet Net are saying that those picket ships are being used as boarding vessels.” Bella said. “We can’t afford to waste any time, BB!”
Rolling her wings, Bella drove her fighter down on a flight of five V’sett-class fighters, just as aggressive as she had been when dogfighting the TIE Defenders over Byss. A ping in her ears confirmed target locks on two of the craft, to which Bella squeezed the triggers on her control sticks, launching a pair of proton torpedoes from her wings. The warheads connected with their targets before the saurian pilots could react, the craft going off in fiery explosions as Bella accelerated past, drawing a bead on a third bandit in the process, yet never deviating from her course towards one of the picket ships. Not a moment later, her laser cannons howled to life, unleashing a salvo of green lances that were initially deflected by an invisible aegis, before quickly overwhelming the barrier and connecting with the bright violet engine thrusters, suddenly bathing the craft in flames.
Just then, a pair of Ssi-Ruuk fighters closed in on her tail, but Bella knew without looking at her tactical display that she was safe, so strong was the chemistry and trust she had developed with her astromech wingmate...
Having arrived and been greeted, Adenn was keenly aware that Ingrid and Ivixa were speaking to one another. What it was, he had no clue asi t was a private net, though it did raise his suspicions. If it couldn't be discussed normally, then it was either harmful to them, either those speaking or allies, or a plan against others. Shaking his head, Adenn decided not to worry about it. Should it be harmful to himself and his vode, then he was confident they could fight their way free.
In this time, Anashja had arrived as well, setting herself at his disposal. Nodding in greeting to her and nodding towards Lyssa, he simply waited for Ingrid to set off. Once she did, he motioned for the others to follow her, including Lyssa, even as she moved on quickly and with grace. He followed close behind, moving with confidence and head occasionally glancing about. His helmet scanned more though, and Adenn was confident that nothing could sneak up on them. Reaching the rocks, Adenn glanced about once more, noting Ingrid's words.
Turning, even as Anshja spoke, Adenn was about to respond when Ivixa made her move. She shot four stormtroopers in quick succession, all on patrol, and all a ways away. Her actions brought a frown to Adenn's face, even as she began to move towards the corridor. Not responding yet to Anashja, Adenn instead held a hand out before Ivixa, halting her. His hand shifted to hold out two fingers before her, even as he looked down at her and spoke.
"One. We're now on a timer, because you felt the need to eliminate four troopers when avoiding them was just as much an option. When they don't report in, this palace will go into alert and our mission just became harder." His displeasure was clear, voice low and annoyed. As a Mandalorian, he was unafraid of speaking his mind, he also didn't bother to hide his emotions as so many others did. "Two. This is a united mission, lone wolfing and not communicating endangers us all. Moving ahead and alone may work with those you know, those you work with daily. But we've never worked together before, so we don't know one another, can't read one anothers minds. Work with us, not against."
He waited to see if she would react, and how, and then his hand would remove itself from before her. But even he did so, hsi head rose and he spoke to everyone else at once.
"We work together. Speak your minds freely, all of you, we have experience and we shall use it fully. When we move forward, use stealth, disguise yourselves and hide. And when things go loud, we'll be in the heart of enemy territory, so be prepared to move quickly." Glancing between them all, Adenn took them in and thought, formulating a plan. Pointing towards Ingrid and Lyssa, he spoke once more. "You two are point, stealth is your strong suites. I want you scouting ahead, seeing the areas with the least resistance and best chance to go through quietly. Lead us through towards our target. Gunner and I come next, we have stealth fields as well, but bear heavier weapons. Should something need to be dealt with, something heavy, we'll take it out."
Turning towards Ivixa, Anashja, and the other Mando'ade, he continued.
"You'll be taking rear, not the most glorious I know, but important. You have numbers and speed, should we need it you rush forward to assist. Otherwise watch our backs and ensure we aren't bothered." Then he directed his attention to Ivixa. "You're the sniper, cover us and overwatch with the rear group. We'll be dealing with the most who we have to, but you're free to snipe should someone be too close. Your weapon is silent, but keep it within a dozen meters and less. Any further and just avoid them best you can. And for Manda's sake, don't shoot across the courtyard, unless absolutely necessary. We can avoid most of these patrols until we're in the palace proper, so no need to draw more attention until we go loud."
Looking about to ensure they had understood the plan. Once that was done, and any subsequent planning, Adenn motioned them forward to pass through the corridor. As he did so, he opened a comms channel to the Mandalorians present, private so only they could hear.
"Keep an eye on the little blue one, I feel she may not enjoy working with us too much. I trust you to keep it professional, which is why I've asked you to remain in the rear with her."
He spoke as they moved, not giving any indication of speaking, and instead only a cold focus. As they passed through the corridor, Adenn and Gunner's armor shifted, the nanites on the armor making them blend into their surroundings, even as Adenn pulled his Valath cloak around him, hiding himself fully.
On the other side of the corridor were more trees and bushes, enough cover to hide them from semi distant patrols. After a few meters though, the trees ended and they were greeted to a view of the palace. One wing of it ended near the edge of the forest, close to their position. Across the courtyard patrolled stormtroopers, atop the palace were a handful of troopers as well. Distant sounds of vehicles could be heard, but none yet visible. All in all, a perfect proving ground for the EE to Adenn. Should Ingrid or Lyssa look towards Adenn for orders, he'd simply motion to them. They were the advance, and they were to guide them forward, to their target.
Lyssa turned to the question posed by Anashja Tal
.
To answer her question, Lyssa morphed an arm into a silvery Sword.
"Among other things...with a proud tradition of pencil sharpening..." she confirmed, following Adenn Kyramud
as he led the way.
She had been about to caution Ivixa Nera'kas
against shooting anyone when Adenn put it much more bluntly, then began laying ground rules. Lyssa decided she rather liked him, though she hid it. Mother had frequently admitted that if she could go back and do it all over again and end up with anyone other than The Amalgam when she was young, she would have picked The Mandalorians without hesitating.
Lyssa was starting to see why Mother had modeled the behavior of the Nuetralizers slightly on that of the ancient Mandalorian Crusaders.
At his order to scout ahead with Miss Organics-are-oh-so-supreme-despite-the-fact-I-ain't-been-organic-in-years Ingrid L'lerim
, Lyssa nodded quietly, getting a good look at the four Ivixa had killed, breaking down into a silvery puddle, managing to catch the visible but quiet alarm on some of The Mandalorians behind Adenn, flowing across the corridor surface and back into the trees, moving silently like running water into the courtyard, before reforming near a thick bush. She saw troopers moving closer to her position, broke down into a puddle again, a silvery tendril of her Nanites grabbing a rock and tossing it to a distant tree behind her, which drew the troopers attention and they went to investigate, the puddle of Nanites hiding within the bush itself, flowing out once they moved past.
The biggest problem were the soldiers on the roof...they had to be dealt with otherwise there was a good chance they might be spotted regardless.
Lyssa silently signalled with her hands for The Mandalorians to hold position temporarily. She spotted a loudspeaker close to the rim of the palace roof. She broke down once more into a puddle and stealthy made her way to the walls, flowing up the way, her Nanites clinging to its microscopic porous surface as she flowed up to the speaker, depositing a sample of her Nanites within, then flowing back down into a bush, reforming and giving hand signals to the Mandalorians tracking her as to the position of certain patrols were starting to move, and to get ready for a distraction.
She hacked the electronics loud speakers, causing a screeching static squeal that caused multiple patrols on the ground to move away from their previous position to investigate.
Now was their chance to move. So far, she had been doing her utmost to avoid killing until it was time, any bodies, any disappearances that couldn't be explained, would cause an unwanted alert...and the last thing she wanted to do was give a bad impression to the Alor that she wasn't a team player. Hopefully Ingrid was also capitalizing on the momentary distraction she had caused...
Ingrid had bones, internal organs, even "blood" in those minutes. She always had a perfect human form; she was able to trick most machines with it. Neither GA nor NIO ever realized in a year that they were a semi-Force Entity. The best instruments and sensors, of course, were able to detect that she had no real pulse or biorhythm. Lyssa could feel that too. The Empress was a perfect man for looks and for average machines, few could see reality.
Although her movement and making it seem insignificant was completely human, it was special training from Shadow and the Frost Company. The woman has at most further developed it over the years. But there really was no magic in that, just that she was a masterful assassin. She earned her reputation for a reason. Ingrid didn't feel the need to kill the assault squads, they were avoidable. The woman nodded in Adenn’s words in an instructive style, even as a sniper, she always killed only the ultimate goal. Ingrid was the kind of assassin who killed the fewest victims. She was the shadow.
<< I open a telepathic connection to anyone who is able to do this and create a “channel”. Through this you will see where I am. Without this, no one would see, would not perceive in the Force, but even technology cannot see. That way, however, I will still be visible to you. I don’t read anyone’s mind, I don’t control anyone. Whoever wants to refuse it do it, but to them I remain invisible, imperceptible. >> she said on the comm. channel.
And then she did it accordingly. Lyssa could probably only follow her from the vibrations left on the ground or the movement of air, and if she was on the team Force-dead her ability didn’t work on it, which the woman wanted. And she moved forward, with the swords in her hands. As she passed through to the corridor, she quickly surveyed the environment and determined where the stormtroopers were. She headed for the entrance, still in the covered area. Going slowly and carefully, so others can follow her easily
She usually worked alone, the team made things difficult. When they reached the line with the entrance, the two soldiers at the top of the palace would have seen them if they had gone out. A little further away there was another wooded part. She reached into the Force and created the illusion that people were moving in it and that the bushes were moving as well. It was in a place where someone goes there, leaving the entry path free for the team and no one can see them. And the two guards above looked at that area.
The road was free inwards…
//OOC: Sorry, I don't have the patience to rewrite the post better than this. //
It was almost nostalgic, really, to be in such a dangerous situation with her. The way her words left her lips without any trace of fear, her orders sounding fierce yet endearing - never too intimidating. BB-610 was used to following orders. As much as he prides himself in straying from typical astromech behavior, he knows that it’s one of his primary functions to serve. For all of his unique quirks, he wants to play a part in this war. People usually command him as if he were nothing more than a toy.
Bella makes him feel happy to serve.
' Royal Nine? I can get used to that, ' he snickers, idly increasing the Delta-7B’s thrusters to go toe-to-toe with his partner. The droid’s photoreceptor catches sight of the series of picket ships, before eyeing the V’sett-class fighters. As Bella hones in on them, the astromech trails ever so slightly behind her.
The twin antennae atop his head twitch up and down, his optic scanning the surrounding ships with a low whirr. ' I’m scrambling their frequencies. ' Within a few seconds, there’s a fuzzy click that echoes at the back of his droidbrain, and BB-610 recognizes it as a successful breach. ' Their intercoms are down. Easy as- ' His head twirls round, noting the Ssi-Ruuk fighters inching closer to Bella’s vessel. Wordlessly, the astromech syncs up to the Delta-7B’s cannons, systems growing warmer with the familiar twinge of satisfaction as the ship locks in on them. Holding the cannons steady, BB-610 dips the starship down, weaving between blaster fire with the elegance he’d studied from Bella’s performance on Byss.
With the roar of the Delta-7B’s cannons, no more than four shots were fired, landing flawlessly against the enemy fighters. BB-610 took in a sight he forgot he’d missed so much. The almost hypnotic dance of flames that dwarf the Ssi-Ruuk fighters, deafening explosions shaking the surface of his ship. The smell of ozone left his blasters, and the Delta-7B flies up to meet his partner’s side once more.
' There we go, sorry about that. ' He spoke, metallic giggle following soon after. ' Let’s finish the rest of them while their coms are down. '
Aximand Sicarus
BB-610
Race Tolsen
Dimitri Lindzinsky
Malanves Lagrange
Gwyneira Vizsla
