KING GHIDORAH THEME
Location: HIMS Imperial Fist | Bridge
Objective: Defend Muunilist
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order |
Dracken Pryce
The bridge of the Imperial Fist was silent as the Trierarch strode through the hall that faced the back of her seat of command and the viewports that overlooked the length of the ship and beyond. The click of her heels against the cold steel echoed against reinforced walls and thick transparasteel glass, one of the communications officers closest to the entrance of the bridge swiveling in their seat to make certain it was indeed their superior officer that was approaching - performing a seated salute and an anxious nod of her head as Melia acknowledged the woman with a subtle nod of her own. "Ma'am one of the Longbows, the Sharpshooter, has landed a crucial hit on an enemy cruiser - significant damage expected." The communications offer said hurriedly, waving a hand from a screen in front of her to Melia's seat, which the Zeltron was already stepping around in order to sit. A holographic recording of damage dealt to the Blue Bantha was playing out atop the desk that partially encircled her seat. It was obvious that the course of action that followed - a scrambling of their hangars, as the strike was evidently quite close to structurally damaging it - was the option that the Alliance would choose to make, one which was best for the safety of their crew, perhaps, but one which told the Zeltron of where to focus their fire.
"Good. Ignore the damaged ship." She said, pressing several keys at her right arm rest, which brought up miniature holographic displays of each commanding officer in her task group. "Sharpshooter, Vornskr, please adjust rotation to target the two Starhawk vessels that are nearest your available striking vectors and fire. If you can land a strike nearest the nose for maximum structural damage that would be preferable - but please ensure that your coil guns land near the nose, preferably slightly below or astride. I want collateral damage maximized. If neither vector are feasible, aim for their hangars." She instructed, waving away the loop still playing in front of her of the Blue Bantha. "Which ship do we presume is the command vessel?" Melia asked, turning her head to one of the bridge's several statistical analysts. "Theoretically any one of the Battlecruisers could be the one housing their commander, but we presume it is the sole ship without another of its model."He replied without looking away from the holographic display at his desk. "Perfect. Push us forwards, navigator, and pull us up so our cannons align with its belly. Triararch Siari to Imperial Reach, please pull up so we may have our clearance." She said with a smile of satisfaction. "When we are clear, fire our main cannons on it - Siari to Reboubt, please disgorge fighters. Direct them towards the defensive screen to help the droid fighters the Imperial Reach pushed out."
"Kometes Xolfos to Triararch Siari, the Imperial Reach is taking heavy fire from long range weaponry, our shields are taking things in stride but I am not sure we can play the part of shield for the Imperial Fist much longer." The commanding officer of the Potentate-class chimed in, the expression on his face - as displayed by the hologram of his upper torso and head - rather concerned. While her reputation of ruthlessness was known, it wasn't generally expected of her to use her own men and women as living shields, so there was some expectation bleeding through in the tone of his voice that she hadn't intended this to last much longer. "I appreciate your candor, Kometes, you may alter position to take some of the heat off of your backs." She answered, not seeming too bothered by the prospect of opening her ship up for heavier fire. "Ma'am we're receiving word that there's an increase of long range fire on the task group at large, the Voxyn has reported a significant decline in shield health in particular. The rest of the cruisers are indicating they are losing shields, as well, though not quite to the degree of the Voxyn herself." The communications officer to her left added, hoping to relay as much information in as short a time as possible - the key reason she'd moved up with Siari when the Zeltron had been promoted and transferred to the then-vacant position on the Siege Breaker. "Request the Voxyn draw back from firing range if possible, put in orders for the Order and Ascension to trade long range turbolaser fire with the ships making these shots while the Longbows get in position, no need for precision firing - Longbows will take care of that - just keep the heat off of our cruisers for the moment. We'll close in soon enough." Melia said with a sigh, a little unhappy with the idea of line breaking formation so soon, but accepted the unpredictability of war as something still just a little beyond her control at the moment.
A pensive-looking communications officer's gaze lingered a little too long on the Trierarch, prompting a lofted brow and a tilted head, as if to permit the silent confusion to be voiced. "But, why aren't we putting all of our fighters out? Most of our destroyers, our cruisers even, came well equipped with full hangars in case the New Imperial Order - sorry, the Separatists - opted for the old Alliance strategy of dumping fighters, surely we could overwhelm them quickly, now even, if we do." She asked, taking the nonverbal cue as permission to speak freely. "Sorry, ma'am." The younger Mirialan added as she realized she hadn't denoted the Zeltron's higher ranking, to which Melia simply smiled - amused, perhaps, but also very smug. "I want them to think this is an even fight, that the Empire is exactly what they were hoping for, so that every setback they receive we can steadily increase the pressure and the stakes they are up against. For now let them worry about defending themselves from our Longbows, and that wall of fighters they likely thing are all we had came prepared with. When they realize there are more fighters coming in the next few minutes they'll slip up again, giving us another opportunity like this and slowly we will wear down their resolve until they understand their victory was never on the table." The Zeltron explained, savoring each word while her eyes studied the movements of her enemy from the holographic display in front of her.
"And when they understand their defeat is inevitable, and they believe their escape is impossible - the Imperial Will to thank for that - the panic will set in. Mercy will be ours to give, Kometes." She said, her voice trailing off as she made a gesture the display to enlarge a section of space, her expression curious. "No survivors, then?" The Mirialan asked curiously, perhaps understanding the Trierarch had intended to go further into detail with her rather twisted plan of targeting enemy morale - to which the Zeltron raised a hand to silence her, her expression shifting to one of focus, and of concern. "This is Triararch Siari to Strike Fighters of the Imperial Fist - deploy from your position behind the bridge tower, take out those fighters coming in for the Imperial Fist. Keep them away from our orbital siege cannons, push them towards positions our point defense cannons can fire on them if you aren't able to outright destroy them. If they make a break for it away from the Fist do not pursue, I want our first shot to be a good one." Melia said as she pressed hard on a key that seemed to be the communication frequency routed for the squadrons that had deployed from the Autarch-class itself.
"Understood. Squadron Black moving out." A voice returned, static evident, though it was clearly the voice the Trierarch was expecting, given her slightly more relaxed demeanor. "Keep them away from the siege cannons, and away from the bridge, and I'll give you a nice reward after we see this thing through, Caestrensae Oloro." She replied with a slightly less-anxious smile. "It would be my pleasure, Trierarch, over and out." The Caestrensae said, an officer in a position within the Starfighter Corps that denoted a command position - technically above the Trierarch herself in certain circumstances, putting the tone of their conversation in question as it was rather unusual for her to break rank in on-duty conversation.
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Sitting in the cockpit of one of the Dominance-class Sith-Imperial Strike Fighters that had was that Caestrensae, a Mirialan by the surname of Oloro - and beneath her fighter helmet she was certainly grinning after receiving the request to engage. "You heard the lady, we're moving out. Don't fly too close to the mouth of the siege cannons unless you absolutely need to, don't want to get fried in the off chance she decides to risk firing them to get rid of the lot of 'em if too many of them get too close - which means the lot of us better be doing our jobs and keeping them away. I want Sadow through Besh squadrons to approach from the left, all others you are to follow Black on an approach from the right." She said, her voice again coming through somewhat filtered. The Strike Fighter, and the rather huge swarm of the rest of them, pulled out from behind the bridge tower and the rear of the battlecruiser like a tidal wave of black and silver from either side of the ship's top.
"Wonder what she'll wear." She whispered to herself as she pushed forwards towards enemy contact, suddenly grinning with the kind of cockiness only a pilot could manage.
Location: HIMS Imperial Fist | Bridge
Objective: Defend Muunilist
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order |
Dracken Pryce
The bridge of the Imperial Fist was silent as the Trierarch strode through the hall that faced the back of her seat of command and the viewports that overlooked the length of the ship and beyond. The click of her heels against the cold steel echoed against reinforced walls and thick transparasteel glass, one of the communications officers closest to the entrance of the bridge swiveling in their seat to make certain it was indeed their superior officer that was approaching - performing a seated salute and an anxious nod of her head as Melia acknowledged the woman with a subtle nod of her own. "Ma'am one of the Longbows, the Sharpshooter, has landed a crucial hit on an enemy cruiser - significant damage expected." The communications offer said hurriedly, waving a hand from a screen in front of her to Melia's seat, which the Zeltron was already stepping around in order to sit. A holographic recording of damage dealt to the Blue Bantha was playing out atop the desk that partially encircled her seat. It was obvious that the course of action that followed - a scrambling of their hangars, as the strike was evidently quite close to structurally damaging it - was the option that the Alliance would choose to make, one which was best for the safety of their crew, perhaps, but one which told the Zeltron of where to focus their fire.
"Good. Ignore the damaged ship." She said, pressing several keys at her right arm rest, which brought up miniature holographic displays of each commanding officer in her task group. "Sharpshooter, Vornskr, please adjust rotation to target the two Starhawk vessels that are nearest your available striking vectors and fire. If you can land a strike nearest the nose for maximum structural damage that would be preferable - but please ensure that your coil guns land near the nose, preferably slightly below or astride. I want collateral damage maximized. If neither vector are feasible, aim for their hangars." She instructed, waving away the loop still playing in front of her of the Blue Bantha. "Which ship do we presume is the command vessel?" Melia asked, turning her head to one of the bridge's several statistical analysts. "Theoretically any one of the Battlecruisers could be the one housing their commander, but we presume it is the sole ship without another of its model."He replied without looking away from the holographic display at his desk. "Perfect. Push us forwards, navigator, and pull us up so our cannons align with its belly. Triararch Siari to Imperial Reach, please pull up so we may have our clearance." She said with a smile of satisfaction. "When we are clear, fire our main cannons on it - Siari to Reboubt, please disgorge fighters. Direct them towards the defensive screen to help the droid fighters the Imperial Reach pushed out."
"Kometes Xolfos to Triararch Siari, the Imperial Reach is taking heavy fire from long range weaponry, our shields are taking things in stride but I am not sure we can play the part of shield for the Imperial Fist much longer." The commanding officer of the Potentate-class chimed in, the expression on his face - as displayed by the hologram of his upper torso and head - rather concerned. While her reputation of ruthlessness was known, it wasn't generally expected of her to use her own men and women as living shields, so there was some expectation bleeding through in the tone of his voice that she hadn't intended this to last much longer. "I appreciate your candor, Kometes, you may alter position to take some of the heat off of your backs." She answered, not seeming too bothered by the prospect of opening her ship up for heavier fire. "Ma'am we're receiving word that there's an increase of long range fire on the task group at large, the Voxyn has reported a significant decline in shield health in particular. The rest of the cruisers are indicating they are losing shields, as well, though not quite to the degree of the Voxyn herself." The communications officer to her left added, hoping to relay as much information in as short a time as possible - the key reason she'd moved up with Siari when the Zeltron had been promoted and transferred to the then-vacant position on the Siege Breaker. "Request the Voxyn draw back from firing range if possible, put in orders for the Order and Ascension to trade long range turbolaser fire with the ships making these shots while the Longbows get in position, no need for precision firing - Longbows will take care of that - just keep the heat off of our cruisers for the moment. We'll close in soon enough." Melia said with a sigh, a little unhappy with the idea of line breaking formation so soon, but accepted the unpredictability of war as something still just a little beyond her control at the moment.
A pensive-looking communications officer's gaze lingered a little too long on the Trierarch, prompting a lofted brow and a tilted head, as if to permit the silent confusion to be voiced. "But, why aren't we putting all of our fighters out? Most of our destroyers, our cruisers even, came well equipped with full hangars in case the New Imperial Order - sorry, the Separatists - opted for the old Alliance strategy of dumping fighters, surely we could overwhelm them quickly, now even, if we do." She asked, taking the nonverbal cue as permission to speak freely. "Sorry, ma'am." The younger Mirialan added as she realized she hadn't denoted the Zeltron's higher ranking, to which Melia simply smiled - amused, perhaps, but also very smug. "I want them to think this is an even fight, that the Empire is exactly what they were hoping for, so that every setback they receive we can steadily increase the pressure and the stakes they are up against. For now let them worry about defending themselves from our Longbows, and that wall of fighters they likely thing are all we had came prepared with. When they realize there are more fighters coming in the next few minutes they'll slip up again, giving us another opportunity like this and slowly we will wear down their resolve until they understand their victory was never on the table." The Zeltron explained, savoring each word while her eyes studied the movements of her enemy from the holographic display in front of her.
"And when they understand their defeat is inevitable, and they believe their escape is impossible - the Imperial Will to thank for that - the panic will set in. Mercy will be ours to give, Kometes." She said, her voice trailing off as she made a gesture the display to enlarge a section of space, her expression curious. "No survivors, then?" The Mirialan asked curiously, perhaps understanding the Trierarch had intended to go further into detail with her rather twisted plan of targeting enemy morale - to which the Zeltron raised a hand to silence her, her expression shifting to one of focus, and of concern. "This is Triararch Siari to Strike Fighters of the Imperial Fist - deploy from your position behind the bridge tower, take out those fighters coming in for the Imperial Fist. Keep them away from our orbital siege cannons, push them towards positions our point defense cannons can fire on them if you aren't able to outright destroy them. If they make a break for it away from the Fist do not pursue, I want our first shot to be a good one." Melia said as she pressed hard on a key that seemed to be the communication frequency routed for the squadrons that had deployed from the Autarch-class itself.
"Understood. Squadron Black moving out." A voice returned, static evident, though it was clearly the voice the Trierarch was expecting, given her slightly more relaxed demeanor. "Keep them away from the siege cannons, and away from the bridge, and I'll give you a nice reward after we see this thing through, Caestrensae Oloro." She replied with a slightly less-anxious smile. "It would be my pleasure, Trierarch, over and out." The Caestrensae said, an officer in a position within the Starfighter Corps that denoted a command position - technically above the Trierarch herself in certain circumstances, putting the tone of their conversation in question as it was rather unusual for her to break rank in on-duty conversation.
-
Sitting in the cockpit of one of the Dominance-class Sith-Imperial Strike Fighters that had was that Caestrensae, a Mirialan by the surname of Oloro - and beneath her fighter helmet she was certainly grinning after receiving the request to engage. "You heard the lady, we're moving out. Don't fly too close to the mouth of the siege cannons unless you absolutely need to, don't want to get fried in the off chance she decides to risk firing them to get rid of the lot of 'em if too many of them get too close - which means the lot of us better be doing our jobs and keeping them away. I want Sadow through Besh squadrons to approach from the left, all others you are to follow Black on an approach from the right." She said, her voice again coming through somewhat filtered. The Strike Fighter, and the rather huge swarm of the rest of them, pulled out from behind the bridge tower and the rear of the battlecruiser like a tidal wave of black and silver from either side of the ship's top.
"Wonder what she'll wear." She whispered to herself as she pushed forwards towards enemy contact, suddenly grinning with the kind of cockiness only a pilot could manage.
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