Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Run Foerost Run | GI Dominion of Foeros |

The Sullustan would continue walking his very slow pace towards the P Placeholder 0128 , observing his every movement like a Nexu stalking his prey. He would gently let spin in his right hand the staff lightsaber as it gleamed a red glow onto himself and the floor. He had watched Ryv Ryv trip up Grayson in something he considered a rather great move and then he watched Tasha Blackmoor Tasha Blackmoor try to swing downward with her lightsaber in almost an attempt to cleave him in two. When Grayson rolled right into Tasha, he would take advantage and give a rather calculated Force Push centered onto Grayson while he was tumbling, trying to force him straight into the wall while he was, in his mind humor wise, "Ball Form".

Successful or not, he would flick a switch on the staff lightsaber and once again, hurl it like a javelin straight towards Cedric though in his own error, was never really good at it, missing by a few inches to the right of Cedric. Using the Force again in rather great concentration, preventing the Sullustan from moving again, he would pull the lightsaber to the left onward down towards Cedric as the top half of the blade would attempt to strike him vertically. Then the staff lightsaber would levitate also, trying to strike quickly though it becomes obvious he was not that well attuned with this one for telekenetic combat, striking quick but sadly predictable.
 
Major Faction

Ryv

Paragon of Sacrifice
Ryv deactivated his saber and rolled backward, pushing himself to his feet before stepping back once again. The Sullustan's saberstaff flew past a second later. Ryv watched the weapon fly slightly off course and silently cursed himself. Had he been stronger in the force he could've corrected it and potentially aided his ally at catching the Imperator off balance. Instead, the padawan could only watch the weapon shoot past and slowly stop once more, held aloft by Jegy. Each strike thrown Cedric's way was yet another means of catching him off balance, but the likelihood the predictable pattern would make any headway was low. They needed another opening, but the chances Ryv could catch his mentor by his surprise again was far too low for him to risk it. He fell back and stopped a few feet before Jegy. He gripped his lightsaber in both hands and fell into the basic Ataru stance.

"Alright listen, I'm gonna stick around and pin him if he comes for you. If an opening presents itself Jegy, I need you to throw me over there with the force. Treat me like your weapon, I think we can take him down if we work together," Ryv didn't look back to gauge his friend's reaction. He was focused intently on his connection to the force. He pulled it inward and zeroed in on Cedric. Time seemed to slow for the padawan as his breathing melted away. He watched each step the Imperator took, each swing of the blade, each twist, and turn of the body. He watched his master go blow for blow with the explosive Tasha.

Was the kiffar's plan a bad one? Who could know for sure? Was it traditional? Far from it, which meant there was a chance. And sometimes, your best bet was a chance.

 
The Imperator was managing to evade the attacks she was giving. But, this was to be expected. Fortunately, in regards to tactical advantage. It'd wear her down much slower than it would him. Meaning even though she was missing, she considered it slight successes, just ones so small they took time to take effect. And with people sufficiently healthy, it might take a good bit of time. So there would be no relying on it. However she would not be able to focus on the strategy that Ryv Ryv was trying to plan, nor what Jegy Sesara Jegy Sesara was doing. At least not at the moment. Because for some reason P Placeholder 0128 chose to roll right into her legs.

The lightsaber deactivated as she fell over him but undoubtedly the hitting into her legs would also slow him down since they were reletively close to the same size, except she was wearing armor. She put her hands out to stop her fall, but at the same time, this was pretty much the perfect moment to try and act. She quickly turned her body. and attempted to grip him from behind right away, trying to wrap her legs around his and grasp his wrists so that, regardless of if he was stronger than her and could move them, she'd know where she was. With that she then focused almost solely on increasing her body physically, she wasn't a master at that, but she was fairly good, and trying to grapple him from there. Hoping that even if she couldn't completely subdue him on her own, this would be the time that the others would have to make an attack, "Just get him!" she managed trying to focus on it instead of answering the plan that Ryv was saying. Under normal circumstances she'd probably have gone with it. But once the situation was changed to grappling it also changed every other circumstance of strategy.

Full Cirgun Plate Body Armor with added sensors, encrypted comm system, and sound protection. (Helmet on)
Guard Breaker
One regular lightsaber. Back belt.
Two BSB (Blackmoor Sonic Blaster) pistols.
Kueget_LN-21_blaster_pistol (left thigh)
Wrist_link
blackmoor-personal-combat-deflector-shield (left arm, deactivated)
 
There were many things Cedric had expected from this bout, and a wrestling match certainly wasn't one of them. given his weight and size, the Imperator had grown rather accustomed to bullying his way around the battlefield with sheer strength alone. It seemed that overconfidence had come to pay its dues as Jegy's blast of force energy slowed his roll signifigantly, and himself flailing about as Tasha quickly grabbed onto him, forcing him into a grappling match that he hadn't been prepared for.

The Jedi fought the urge to spit curses as he tried to wrestle his way out of the woman's grasp. The endeavor wasn't working all that well - his opponent's armor was sharp, hard, and difficult to get a grip on.

If it was just Tasha, he might be able to muscle his way to victory, but not with three opponents. Only one realistic option presented itself.

The Jedi Master drew in a deep breath, and ceased to struggle against Tasha, keen on letting the woman bear hug him into damnation. The energies of the empyrean flowed through his body like a river, coagulating in the deltas of his digits, and roiling together in waht he envisoned to be a hurricane. That hurricane quickly left his body, sending out a shockwave of telekinetic energy from each of his limbs in hopes of freeing himself from Tasha.

It was around that time that Jegy's lightsaber came flying once again. Distracted as he was, Cedric could only grimace as the blade clipped his right arm, the entire limb going completely numb and falling limply at his side. The Jedi quickly batted away Jegy's blade with his own, but the damage was done.

"
Didn't need two arms to take you all on anyway," he grimaced, cracking a competitive grin as he stared down his opponents, blade humming in his one operable hand.

Tasha Blackmoor Tasha Blackmoor , Ryv Ryv , Jegy Sesara Jegy Sesara
 
Major Faction

Ryv

Paragon of Sacrifice
"This is getting ridiculous," Ryv's words were just a whisper, barely audible over the din of Cedric and Tasha rolling about on the floor. Grappling was something his father worked with him on in his youth. Nothing over the top, just enough he'd be able to take care of himself in a run of the mill street fight. Ryv continued that training as he worked to perfect his family's unique style of ataru. It offered insight on the continued struggle between his mentor and the countess, insight that mostly told him he wanted nothing to do with the jumbled mess they were. Instead, he focused his mind elsewhere. His eyes closed as he fell inward, allowing a momentary lapse in outward perception. It was within himself Ryv felt most in tune with the force. He could feel the fractured connection that linked him to the great cosmic energies.

Cedric's pull on the force caught Ryv's attention. He could not contest his master in a battle of wills, nor could he outright take him in a duel. Watching the Imperator contest the unlikely grouping offered information, but not enough for the kiffar to create a proper counter. Engaging him directly, beside Tasha, was their only chance. Ryv took a deep breath before reaching out to his fellow force user's mind. His touch was gentle as it pressed inward, connecting the two. Ryv would open his eyes once more, though his perception of the room seemed much larger. While he was still in the same place physically, he could perceive the world through Tasha's senses. He could feel her struggle as her mind instinctually worked through overcoming Cedric's defenses. It was as if the two minds were one, working through the scene parallel, yet perpendicular simultaneously.

With a shift in weight, Ryv cleared the room in a series of leaps and bounds after Cedric's telekinetic wave pressed outward. He leaped up and over the duo, bringing his lightsaber high and in one powerful strike, the kiffar aimed to slam his mentor's weapon down and pin it in place. Tasha would not only feel but understand her young companion's intent, having much more room to maneuver and follow through with a proper offensive.

 
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Location: Foerost system // Foerost Upper Atmosphere // Dak's IX-10 Starfighter
Tags: Gala Geert Gala Geert

Although he rarely sought to demonstrate it, the old DAC prototypes were programmed with surprisingly capable starfighter piloting routines. Because of this, Dak had invested in his own IX-10 starfighter shortly after Cedric had uncovered him, well before the Imperium. Back then the tab had been picked up by the New Republic -- or, the old New Republic. Not to be confused with the current Republic. Though, it was still newer than the old Old Republic he had served centuries before.

It had all become rather confusing.

The droid dismisses the silly, lingering thought once several of the sensory signals light up on the IX-10's dashboard, alerting him to several hostile IFF signatures that were entering the proximity of his long-range scanners.
Dak activates his integrated comm-link and thumbs at a few toggle switches.

<<Gladio, are your sensors reading those too?>> He looks to his right, out of the IX-10's compact cockpit where another ship that can be seen formed up alongside his own <<Several hostile craft just showed on my longrange scans. I don't believe they've noticed us yet.>>
 
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Flying: Death Trap
Working with: Dak Dak


Traditionally, Gala was a hard no on the piloting frontier. However, given the restraint on resources and availability... supply and demand suggested if she was supplying, she could demand a bonus. Thus resulted in the green-skinned agent nestled in a ghastly tangerine space suit and depending solely on the machinations of an astromech who was far more qualified than her.
At the suggestion of her comrade, Gala’s dark gaze affixed on the cerulean dashboard below. Racial lines pulsated in a rhythmic pattern, interrupted by red anomalies.

“I copy, I see them. One of those is friendly, remember.” She comm’d back, habitually touching her ear although there was no need within the cockpit. The communication network between personal crafts was seamless. “Our damsel in distress.”
Do we have a preferred approach for this kind of thing?”
R4 made a hooting noise, that Gala couldn’t hear but saw translated on her screen. “No, R4. We want them to stand down - not get hostile in this metal death trap. We can save that for the ground. Escort and arrest.”
 
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orbit.png

Location: Foerost system // Foerost Upper Atmosphere // Dak's IX-10 Starfighter
Tags: Gala Geert Gala Geert



Dak scans over the small screen a second time, then a third, trying to see if he'd missed the green IFF tag his partner was referring to. Confirming he had not simply overlooked it, the droid taps at the screen several times. Still no change. Technical difficulties, it would seem.

<<Affirmative, Gladio. My IFF must be mis-tagging them. I'll have to go off visual identification for the friendly vessel.>> He grips the sensor display's adjustable mount and slides it to the side, out of his way <<You're optimistic if you think these hostile craft will offer us such an opportunity.>>

The droid begins to key at several panels, making quick and precise adjustments to their configurations as if he had done it a hundred times before. Gala would notice the IX-10's signature radius increase as the starfighter's weapons powered on.

<<Weapons hot and ion cannon charging,>> he glances over to the sensor display; sure enough, the red tags were adjusting their course -- they'd noticed him <<Looks like that got their attention. I will try to divert them from the supply vessel. Do what you need to do, Gladio.>>

At that, Dak's vessel makes a left roll, followed by a sharp upward pitch to break away from their formation.
 
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It spoke to how out of her comfort zone she was to be labeled as optimistic. Never had such an adjective been applied to Agent Gladio. This cash out better be worth it.

"Follow that lead."
She instructed to the R4 droid, adding in a follow-up thought: "And if you notice we're about to die, feel free to take over the flying R4. You're more used to this than me." The astromech buckled in out of site gave a confirmation weeup. The dashboard gave a brief summary of the actions taken by the droid in a scrawl across the screen, not obstructing the radar report.

The red targets diverted from their orbiting hover of the stranded vessel, and trailed after the neutrally coloured silhouette of Dak's engaged fighter, which gave her the space to remain on the defensive, shields high, and chart course directly for the larger transport that had been stepped mid course. As the pirates' ships started to diverge from their protective course, she noticed the frigate start to change its appearance on her radar. It was starting to come to life, without the threat of being blow out of the sky. Or, at least knowing they had some help.

She juked forward, careening through the empty space between her ship and the Foeronian one. Nothing fancy. She'd sidle up to it, position herself as an obvious escort, and shoot out any bad guys that diverted from Dak Dak 's attention.
 
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Location: Foerost system // Foerost Upper Atmosphere // Dak's IX-10 Starfighter
Tags: Gala Geert Gala Geert



The IX-10 maintains a wide turn as Dak does his best to divert attention from Gala's advance. With hostile fighters inbound and combat imminent, having finer control over the ship would be ideal. Fortunately for the DAC droid, he did not require the assistance of an astromech to achieve such. Dak extends his own scomp link from his right wrist and plugs it into the socket built into the dashboard control panel.

In a matter of seconds his mind becomes one with the starfighter's systems.

Now able to commit to a detailed scan without sacrificing control over the IX-10, Dak initiates active scans of the inbound fighters while they're still out of range. Of the 6 that had broken away to engage him, all of them read as modified Foerosi-manufactured
V-19 Torrents. Fast ships, more-so than the IX-10, but outdated and unimpressive when it comes to firepower. Nonetheless, with that many of them, it was going to be tricky.

Dak spins his starfighter on it's Z-axis to be upside down, then pulls up to begin a sharp downward stretch. The V-19s dip after him, moving closer and closer into combat range. As the first of them start to open up with their dual laser cannons, Dak throws the IX-10 into a rapid spin and initiates an abrupt right yaw. The combat starfighter's twisting course adjustment allows it to escape the first volley of laser fire, but it was only a momentary victory.

The lead fighter streaks by his position and prepares to circle around, but the others behind him maintain an approach for an attack run. Dak swerves back and forth in a serpentine maneuver to dodge several bursts of fire, though only barely. The precision maneuvering of the Torrents allow them to make easy and subtle adjustments to follow his attempted evasions. It wouldn't hold up for long.

Knowing his luck in the current situation was running short, the droid flares the forward RCS thrusters to life to bring his fighter into an abrupt stop - one that an organic might struggle to achieve safely. Two the Torrents fly by him, putting themselves in a momentarily vulnerable position. Taking advantage of this, Dak returns to full speed and fires forward with his quad-cannons. The first of the them is riddles with shots and explodes outright, but Dak only manages to stripe across the starboard wing of the second fighter, sending it into a violent spiral.
 
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Location: Foerost system // Foerost Upper Atmosphere // Encircling Foerost Frigate --> Protect 'em
Flying: Death Trap
Working with: Flyboy Dak Dak

Meanwhile, Gala attempted to establish a hail to the frigate that was starting to show signs of life. There was no response and she quickly reduced the poor suckers were completely blind and deaf to virtual comms. That much hadn't changed since the original briefing. It was only by the fortuitous artistry of her X-Wing's decorations that she could be distinguished as a friendly arrival rather than one that sought to continue intervening with their sole objective of delivering raw materials back to the Shipyard rings.

With a juke to her yoke, she rolled lazily in an arc over the top of the ship right underneath it. Her proximity in the dashboard display indicated she was just outside their shield range - which gave her an understanding of where to position herself. She ended her roll with an alignment to the cockpit of the frigate, attempting to align with the viewport of the crew inside. It was difficult to establish any sort of eye contact, given the distance and dirtiness of the vessel, but she could see silhouettes. With hand gestures suggesting they move forward, she saw a wave back to confirm the suggestion. It seemed their engines flared up in tandem, and she gave a few seconds before lifting back upward to fly atop the canons of the ship.

As they advanced, a V-19 spiralled out in front of their path. Gala wished she could comm the fellows in the frigate to not panic. The bogie was out of control, twisting and twirling - likely trying to right themselves within their ship.

They'd achieve no such feat. Gala's target lock glowed red, and a short burst from her laser cannons created a blossom of fire to erupt amidst the vacuum of space.

"Hey hey R4," she grinned in the solitude of her seat "I could get used to this."
 
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