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Location: New Aldera Orbital Defense Base Objective: Aegis of Liberty Tags:Valery Noble
/ Kelinna Tryn
The soldier did well to avoid his barrage of containers as he approached, staying on her feet until she had to roll right into him. With a loud grunt, the lightsaber pierced her armor but not entirely. Even so, it still seemed to hurt her badly when she shouted her disgust at him. In retaliation, the woman threw an armored fist into his jaw, something that Silas wasn't prepared for. When the fist made contact, his head snapped to the right, sending spit flying from his mouth to the floor below. The blow forced the padawan back unsteady on his feet, too dazed to see what was to come next.
The tip of her blade curved and slashed against his shoulder, making a clean cut through the jumpsuit and into his skin "Argh!" the boy yelled out, making him fall up against the wall. Still on his feet, he reflectively put a hand on the moderately deep cut and withdrew the hand to see it covered in blood. The injury wasn't life threatening by any means, but he couldn't let it get worse "T-this... this is pointless!" he yelled at her suddenly, his mind still foggy from her punch "Do you not see what you're doing!"
Silas coldly stared at the woman with hateful intent, the grip on the ignited saber noticeably getting tighter "I will not let you cause more suffering..." he growled as he began to extend his arm out and grip her with the force. If she concentrated hard enough the soldier would feel weightlessness go through her, a feeling that indicated she was beginning to float. His thoughts were telling him to throw her against the wall with all he could muster to prevent her from wasting any more life. Yet, just when he was going to follow through Valery ordered him to retreat.
His body seemed to make him ease up and hesitate. The hatred was still there, but his intentions had seemingly changed within a few moments. Keeping her off the floor a few inches he looked at her with a face that showed no room for dispute "You have a chance to stop this, to save the lives of the troops you have left. I sense great death among your men and even further sorrow for their families. At least give some of them a hope of their return..." he demanded sternly, looking straight into her eyes. It took everything mentally to not lash out. However, he knew that would make him into the monster that plagued his dreams.
"Order a cease fire and let me pass unharmed. In return, we will trade bodies of the perished so they may be returned to their families. Do the right thing... please"
THE TRICKSTER'S TRICK
NEW ALDERA | ORBITAL DEFENSE BASE | CONTROL ROOM WHEN MY MIND PLAYS TRICKS ON ME, I CAN DEAL BUT WHEN MY MIND PLAYS TRICKS ON MY MIND, I CAN NOT TELL WHAT'S REAL
Just like it hadn't really been her on Generis, in those jungles. But both that time and this time, Djorn wanted it to be Loske. Believed it to be. And the mind's desires overwhelmed sensibilities enough for illusions to feel real.
And thus, it was enough for the apparition to nod. Its maestro pulled at strings, searching through memories and interactions that might fill in the space of the blonde's response. It was easy enough to stitch together a yes in the voice of the would-be Kiffar, and guide her to stand and walk. She cocked her head, looking wary at the agent who'd just shot his own father.
The tentativeness in the blonde's approach was easy to create, and Maijan walked with an equal amount of care on the opposite side of Djorn. Loske approached him from the front,
There was a surreal horror to the life she'd grown up in. The bulkheads of the Corellian orbital shipyards once were all that shielded her from the lifeless ocean the inhabitants of the universe were confined to live among. Any number of things could happen, and any breach to the outer hull could send the inhabitants of the shipyard's corridors reeling and spiraling into a gruesome, lonely death. But she'd been lucky enough to spend most of her life closer to the well-guarded core of the shipyards; should any incident occur, she had the luxury of the surrounding rooms to protect her from the vacuum. Though, often she would venture out, in defiance of her parents' sc0lding and chiding. Despite the danger that lurked beyond, she loved to watch the engineering crews at work, and she'd crept through the maintenance tunnels over and over again just to do so. It was on one of such ventures that Phaineve encountered her first hull breach.
From beneath a secured grate, she'd watched a fiery shroud envelop the port-most wall, only to disappear as quickly as it'd formed. A cloud of burnt shrapnel-- whatever hadn't been sent hurtling outward by the atmospheric decompression-- was left where the eruption had torn the bulkheads asunder. Feeling her own breath slowly growing shallow, she'd clawed her way further down the maintenance tunnel and slammed an emergency gate down, sealing herself from the chaos at hand. The whole event continued for ten long minutes before Damage Control had managed to seal the corridor and rush the cowering young girl from her makeshift shelter to Sickbay.
As a volley of fire ripped into the reactor room and ignited a response of screaming from those caught in its path, she was taken back to that moment. Metal from the surrounding bulkheads spewed out among a cloud of sparks. Shouts and cries filled the room, only to be silenced with the sounds of bodies crashing into metal. She ducked behind a console, coughing violently as smoke began to leak from the surrounding pipes and settle in the room.
A huge thud muffled the volleys of Imperial fire, and left a room filled with coughing and groaning engineers. Phaineve rose cautiously from cover and scanned around.
The clearing smoke brought mangled, fallen forms into view. Three figures clad in scorched Tionese armor lay unmoving at the mouth of the door; plenty more unarmored engineers were in similar states even beyond the immediate vicinity.
She looked directly at the doors, feeling tears begin to trickle down the reddened sides of her face. She'd been the one to open the door. She'd let the Imperials fire inside.
Phaineve coughed until the sick feeling in her throat finally left her system. With a renewed fire in her voice, she withdrew the comm link from her utility belt, calibrating its transmitter for a broadcast on base-wide comms.
"Reactor Room to all hands. We've got Imps about to breach the doors! We need reinforcements!"
To her own surprise, her sword sliced into his shoulder.
The kid stumbled back in shock, blood starting to weep heavily from the wound. The expression on his face had Lily hanging back defensively instead of finishing him off.
What?
She was just about to shake herself out of it and follow through when he yelled at her. All other words of his fell to the wayside but one sentence echoed through time.
It was like a voice from the past - one that had plunged her into the void.
"What have they done to you, my Lilibet? Where has the Imperial Dream gone to have justified turning soldiers into monsters? They've turned you into something you are not, sweetheart. Don't do this."
It was like a punch to the gut - the voice from the grave. The one she had put there herself.
Lily was still gasping for air as her father's words rang on repeat in her head, that she didn't notice the weightlessness at first. It was only when she was looking down at the boy from above, that she realised she was being levitated.
She felt oddly empty and melancholy at the same time, that she did not even try to retaliate like she would have had she been fully sensible like a minute ago. She had never made peace with herself pulling the trigger on her father. Would she be able to add a child's life to that restless grave? A cold sweat and shivers broke on her as she hung suspended in the air while the Padawan talked. What the hell would ISB do if she let him go? If she ordered that ceasefire? Would she have to shoot her mother or sister next?
"Where has the Imperial Dream gone to have justified turning soldiers into monsters?"
"Order a cease fire and let me pass unharmed. In return, we will trade bodies of the perished so they may be returned to their families. Do the right thing... please."
"Oh shit --"
Before he had time to call out an order for his remaining comrades, all three of them were flying through the air to only touch ground a few meters away, jarring every bone in his own body.
Mind foggy, Tyler tried to scramble to his feet to at least be ready for a follow up attack from the Jedi.
But none came. Instead, Hollard's body was gently sent toward them while the Jedi and rebels stayed put. "Carson, get Hollard out of here." he said, not taking his eyes off the Jedi. "Huh?" Carson said, still immensely groggy after hitting a wall. "Get Hollard out of here. We need to take his body back to Emily." "Oh right..." Carson struggled to his feet to grab their fallen comrade's shoulders and dragging him away. The rest of them held some sort of sidearm at the ready again to continue the fight.
<Reaper team, stand down for ten. Repeat: stand down for ten.> the Special Forces operative's order came through the comms.
"Shit timing, Sergeant." Tyler grumbled, but he motioned for the rest of his comrades around him to adhere.
This had better not bite them in the ass later on...
908th Legion - 1st Spacetrooper Company (aka “1st Space”)
Manpower: 96/100 (96 active, 4 disabled, 0 killed)
Orders and Targets: See Task Force descriptions
Allies: Empire | Cooperating with Castor E-196
| Directly commanded by Ignacious Korvan
| Caarlyle Rausgeber
| eggmanVelran Kilran
| other Imperial fleeters
Enemies: GA | Engaging ANV Lightmaker / Liedran Kathause
| Open to engage GA marines / fighter pilots
TASK FORCE I - OBJECTIVE: BOARD & CAPTURE REAR ADMIRAL KATHAUSE 22/25 (3 disabled)
Meter by meter, the zero-G troopers smashed through the Lightmaker's halls.
Dozens of corpses lay behind them, all Alliance marines who made the mistake of attempting to overpower the armored behemoths. Entire limbs and organs lay splattered on the ground, still lightly smoking from the force of the laser cannon bolts that had annihilated them.
Still, the journey of the Imperials was not without trouble.
Blast door after blast door stood between them and the suspected command center, greatly delaying them. Each door only took about thirty seconds for the powerful laser cutters of the spacetroopers to cut through, but they had gone through almost a dozen and still more lay ahead. Furthermore, three of the squad had taken especially heavy fire, and their armor began to become faulty. The troopers inside them were completely intact, still well-protected by their thick armored suits, but the armor itself had become little more than a half-ton shell, and each disabled trooper was carried on the back of another.
As they cut through their fourteenth blast door, the squad got a lucky break.
The hall came to an end straight ahead, forming a T intersection with an elevator in the top-middle of the T. A small sign above it indicated "Bridge Access", and its meaning was clear.
[I will take the elevator along with Sergio.] ordered Lieutenant Freefall. [We likely won't be able to fit much more. The rest of you should secure a perimeter and see if we can patch up the armor of the disabled three.]
The two spacetroopers marched ahead of the group, approaching the elevator. Seeing that it required a keycard to access, Freefall decided to save time and simply drilled a hole in the door through which the pair entered. Surely enough, they came across a button on the side of the elevator labelled "Bridge", which they promptly pressed.
The elevator briefly lurched under the weight of the two spacetroopers and then lurched upwards, towards their final destination.
[Ave Rurik.]
TASK FORCE II - OBJECTIVE: DESTROY DOCKED SPACECRAFT IN HANGARS 25/25
At first, the squad landed unopposed.
[Prioritize the bombers and support craft.] ordered the group's CO. [Organic priorities: Pilots, marines, and engineers.]
They swiftly went to work, cannons blazing as they marched deeper into the hangar. The spacetroopers first focused their attention on a squad of refueling bombers, aiming for their fuel tanks and payloads. One by one, they burst into brilliant flames, their maintenance crews caught in a growing blaze that rapidly consumed them. The squad continued deeper into the hangar, walking around the inferno and pointing their cannons at starfighters elsewhere in the hangar. Several maintenance workers and pilots fired handguns at the squad, but in their half-ton armor, the zero-G troopers shrugged off the bullets as if they were no worse than pebbles thrown at them. By contrast, a single burst of cannonfire was enough to wipe out almost the entire first wave of opposition.
As the Imperials pushed further into the hangar, they'd soon enough encounter a salvo of small arms fire from Alliance marines outside the door. It was the hope that they'd fall or at least surrender quickly enough for the marines to be redistributed across the ship.
[Take cover around hangar equipment. Shoot them down and then any ships in range.]
The sturdy Space Armor continued to hold up against any attempt to penetrate it, but the spacetroopers knew better than to test the limits of their equipment. Most of the squad found shelter behind various crates or starfighter wreckage, occasionally peeking out and firing their cannons at the marines from behind their cover.
TASK FORCE III - OBJECTIVE: HIJACK PRIMARY POWER SOURCES WITHIN LIGHTMAKER 24/25 (1 disabled)
[All power generation sources have been secured.]
[Good. Put increased power into the rudder until the vessel is about 65 degrees left of current position. Leave the blast doors up - they're as much an obstacle to the marines as to Freefall's unit.]
[Understood.]
With the pressing of a few buttons and the pulling of a lever, a power flux came to the carrier's turning controls, and it slowly began to lurch leftward to eventually face the Candlelit Fantasy.
TASK FORCE IV - OBJECTIVE: OVERRIDE ENGINES 25/25
At last, the final task force arrived at the Lightmaker's engine block.
Multiple spacetroopers latched onto the side of each main engine, careful to avoid the superheated gas emerging from the exhaust. Slowly and with painstaking precision, they made thin and deep holes in the outer plating of the engines, exposing key wiring within.
[Hold. Prepare to manipulate your respective engines.]
[Task Force Three, this is Task Force Four. We're ready when you are.]
He was a black hole, destroying whatever was in his path until he was content and satisfied. Even willing to ruin relationships, though not for his own amusement; he was not sadistic despite his own cruelty. But maybe she could fill in that hole longing to be sealed. There was always a soft spot for her, an effect after being stuck in the outer rim in his efforts of sabotaging whatever insurgents planning to destabilize the Sith Empire which he defected from.
She reminded him of what he once was years ago, before turning into what he was now. How strange life worked? One moment he was just an innocent boy free from ideals, and the next he was a craven, war torn man committing various atrocities.
Life was simpler once upon a time.
His cybernetic hand reached out for Loske’s, but then hesitated for a moment. It was all too good to be true, coming from his own desires. Too good that things weren’t adding up. He did have one question to see if she was real.
“What about him? Don’t you…don’t you want to be with him? Maynard.”
Full of envy when citing his name, a name he hadn’t uttered in so long.
Master Sergeant Castor E-196 Imperial Navy Special Forces Command; Attached to 908th Legion - 1st Spacetrooper Company
Objective: Seize Rear Admiral Liedran Kathause, Disable ANV Lightmaker Allies: Under command of FN-999 /Lieutenant Freefall, Ignacious Korvan
. Under supervision of Caarlyle Rausgeber Enemies:Liedran Kathause
and ANV Lightmaker marines
Castor was back at the door breach again, firing down the irradiated hallways and pinning down Alliance reinforcements trying to storm the control rooms. He glanced back into the room, watching the others work feverishly to slice through the engine control console. The wounded Spacetrooper had been dragged into a corner to rest for a moment, bacta patches in the inner lining of his armour already activated.
[This is 1, we have secured our control room]
[This is 2, we are at our station, taking heavy fire. Recommend proceed immediately.]
The Sergeant of Castor's group looked to one of the other Spacetroopers, who had just finished slicing into the control system on theirs.
[Good. Put increased power into the rudder until the vessel is about 65 degrees left of current position. Leave the blast doors up - they're as much an obstacle to the marines as to Freefall's unit.]
Commands were input to the power systems of the Lightmaker in all three hijacked control rooms, the slicing working against Liedran Kathause
's orders. Castor could feel the ship change course even as inertial dampeners kicked in. On his HUD sensors he detected the Alliance Marines retreating, but there was still more movement headed to their control room.
Contacts were detected coming around aft, 25 of them seemingly setting their sights on the carrier's engine block. As to the intention behind the maneuver, Liedran could only speculate.
[Be advised, at least thirty mechanicals on scope. Hostile droids inbound.] The Alliance was adapting, sending droids to cut through the irradiated section.
"Prepare ion weapons!" Castor called to the Spacetroopers holding the breach. Several prepared ion detonators while one of them unlimbered a portable ion cannon mounted to the back of his armour. The others could only wait and let their arm-mounted blasters cool down.
As the droids clanked past the corner into line of sight, the ELITE wished he had his modular rifle right about now.
Location: New Aldera Orbital Defense Base Objective: Aegis of Liberty
They decided against attacking.
Valery let out a breath of relief when they did and turned her eyes to the wounded Alliance soldiers behind her. There were losses on both sides, and it would be best if they could regroup to defend crucial areas of the base. Similarly, she knew the Imperials wanted their wounded and dead as well, and they needed the time as well. So it was likely not going to benefit either side strategically, but at least proper respect could be paid to those who had lost their lives.
Not long after, Valery felt Silas returning from his clash, and all her attention shifted to him immediately, "Silas, are you alright?" she asked, her eyes shifting over him to see if he had sustained any major injuries that needed medical attention. But physical harm wasn't the only thing that worried her.
She had felt something within him while he fought the Imperials.
"We're going to reposition and hold what we can of this facility, but I want to make sure you're doing good." Not that she could easily withdraw him from this battle, but she'd be more careful about sending him off on his own. Either way, she did plan to talk to him in private later.
There were some things that needed to be cleared up.
A satisfied grin lined the Grand Moff’s features after Liedren’s response and following outburst; a sight that would serve as the final image Liedren would see as the feed was abruptly terminated. Ignacious wasn’t quite sure which part he took more pleasure in - the fact he was in her head, or the fact that she knew it. The offensive was as good as defeated - now all they had to do was finish the final steps in this deadly dance both sides were engaged in. A pensive hand placed itself over his mouth as he reflected over the exchange, even as the command deck came alive with increasingly urgent reports.
“The Alliance bomber group is still advancing despite heavy losses. Their trajectory is headed straight for the Valiant-class Star Destroyers along our line!”
“Tighten our point defense coverage and shift our picket line, now!”
Despite the Rear Admiral’s obvious but not ineffective orders, it was too late. The daring bombing run on the part of the B-wing bomber group found purchase with devestating effect. The concentrated barrage of proton torpedoes, carpet bombs, heavy lasers, and a composite beam raked across the hull of the massive warship. Armor plating curled and groaned in protest as the gaps within the shield network forced it to weather the storm of bombs plus stray capital ship bombardment. The atmospheric barrier of the main hangar bay shorted out due to the sheer magnitude of punishment, causing the emergency blast doors to unceremoniously snap closed.
“The NIV Primus is reporting primary shield array damage, with numerous hull breaches across their mid and ventral sections. She’s still up and able, but needs support sir!”
“Belay the commentary, Lieutenant!” Admiral Feros bit back, clear anger seeping through his normally composed demeanor. Within seconds, his composure returned: “Prioritize that bomber group, now. Why is there not an interceptor squadron on them this instant?”
The tactical officer’s mouth opened as if to offer a response, but he clearly thought better of it as those under his terminal blister returned their attention to their busy consoles. “U-unacceptable sir. I will remedy the situation now!”
Korvan offered the Rear Admiral an approving nod, of which the Admiral to his credit maintained his expressionless demeanor. The truth was, the Imperial Blockade, despite its imposing appearance and composition, was clearly beginning to feel the heat of the Alliance offensive. The Primus was but the first of the ships beginning to accumulate considerable damage under the weight of the Alliance bombardment and offensive. But the Empire was not out of the fight - not by a long shot.
The attacking bomber squadron would notice an intensity in the efforts to subdue them, as if they kicked the hornet’s nest within the Imperial blockade. TIE Drones would begin to swarm them, concentrating their speed and maneuverability to tie up the attentions of the beleaguered alliance starfighters whilst squadrons of TIE interceptors came in from the rear - with murder clearly behind the movements of their pilots. The first wave of interceptors would come in from above the B-wings, unleashing with a cascade of laser fire with clear intent to rake across the dorsal sections of the bomber craft.
Meanwhile, the Imperial strike wing attacking the Alliance fleet set about strafing the smaller ships as they attempted to retreat into a defensive formation around the flagship and surrounding escort vessels forming the main core. Finally, Ignacious broke his pensive posture and gestured over to the Rear Admiral. “Launch the formal boarding parties. Lieutenant Freefall will likely need reinforcements before long.”
Dozens of troops transports ambled out of the hangar bays of the forward-deployed ships within the battle line, with a squadron of TIE Outlanders breaking off to escort them through space between the two fleets. The Grand Moff eyeballed the tactical display, and said in an off-handed manner: “Fear not, Rear Admiral. Our victory is at hand...”
The NIV Primus has taken significant damage from the Alliance bomber attack.
Imperial Fighters in the area have intensified their efforts to intercept and disrupt the remaining bomber swarm, with the surrounding escort ships attempting to screen the Primus from further attack.
The Empire’s own starfighter attack force proceeds to strafe the Alliance formation - focusing on the smaller ships withdrawing to form the defensive formation ordered by Admiral Kathouse
Under Moff Korvan’s orders, dozens of boarding craft are launched to provide support to Lieutenant Freefall
C A V A L I E R THE EMPIRE
NEW ALDERAAN | NEW ALDERA Aaran Tafo
So the Jedi finally left aside his morals and did what needed to be done? If only he and his Order could do that where it needed to be done. Perhaps then the Jedi wouldn’t be so obsolete. Nevertheless, the Empire would succeed where the Jedi and their Alliance failed in.
Going straight for the kill, with great speed to outmatch the fastest runners. Not many could properly defend an attack such as that, even knights and other adepts didn’t know how to withstand it. There were many techniques in how to, and the one Simon opted was aggressive, yet unorthodox. He could’ve evaded Aaran, surrender his ground and repositioned himself.
Much like in his youth he was still arrogant and stubborn. Courageous, but ignorantly so.
Both of his forearms were adorned with vambraces with cortosis weaved in them. Able to resist against the deadly cut of a lightsaber. A forearm was raised and charged against the slash, challenging it as it then fractured bone from the impact. A snarl was growled out as Simon with an armored fist struck at the shoulder that was dislocated. He could’ve landed a shot at his face, but he wanted the Jedi’s nerves be overloaded with pain. Cripple and stun him to be easy pickings.
Shields 92% l Weapons 100% l Engines 100% l Crew 100% l Kyber Cells 5 (3 ready at shields) & 9 minutes left on the timer.
"U-unacceptable sir. I will remedy the situation now!" Ignacious Korvan
Over the fleet wide communications, Mae heard the order for roaming interceptors to return to the Imperial front and assist in dealing with a group of bombers that just stuck a devastating blow to one of the Star Destroyers. She sighed once more to herself, as it was most likely that group she was hunting earlier before noticing incoming support and she split off to look for new targets. Why did she think that a bunch of imperial drone junk, could out wit and out class hardened veterans of the GA bomber core was now beyond her understanding. She was hot on the tail of Mylo Thorne
, but took a deep breath as she broke her pursuit. She was in desperate need of a good dog fight, but her target seemed to have his attention on something else.
Mae flipped her interceptor around and cloaked once more. She made a straight path directly to the B and Y-Wings that had just delivered the big attack just moments before.
It took a few moments for her to get back to them as the X-wings she was just engaged with, were a good distance away. As she neared, she instructed her gunners to target her main target. She knew the bombers were heavily shielded, especially from the rear to protect from interceptors. As she neared, she saw a strafe run my some imperial drones that did not do much damage and only successfully destroyed one of the enemy B-Wings, but it caused a small group of three Y-Wings to split from the larger group. "Perfect" Mae said to herself softly as she lined herself up behind the leader of the three flying in V formation. She quickly dropped her cloak and before completely raising her shields, let the lead Y-Wing have it with every cannon on her interceptor including her ion cannon. The ship just could not handle the sheer amount of firepower shoved up its rear and the Y-Wing broke up. This sent the other two scrambling in either direction from one another, once again setting themselves up by singling themselves out from the herd. Mae lined up behind the one retreating closer to the main body of bombers and opened up fire, this time her shields were up, but so to was the guard of the Y-Wing. It had doubled its rear deflector shield and its rear gunner was already peppering her with fire. Her shields absorbed the fire but brought her back down to 87%. This is when Mae performed one of her custom maneuvers and barrel rolled over the Y wing and had her gunners keep direct fire on it as she did so. The result was less firepower but much more hits and to different parts of the ship and shields and made them collapse and then the ship, like the lead before it, broke apart. As Mae turned to get the last scragglier, a new wave of drones swept it tearing it to shreds.
Mae turned her attention back the the group of B-Wings and Shar Sieu
. She got behind him and started to fire on his rear with both heavy cannons, ion cannon, and her gunners.
THE TRICKSTER'S TRICK
NEW ALDERA | ORBITAL DEFENSE BASE | CONTROL ROOM WHEN MY MIND PLAYS TRICKS ON ME, I CAN DEAL BUT WHEN MY MIND PLAYS TRICKS ON MY MIND, I CAN NOT TELL WHAT'S REAL
Loske's likeness slowed, paused, and became entirely still.
The blonde was expressionless. A reaction struggled on her lips. Despite the obvious venom in Djorn's voice, Maijan was too distracted to notice the intonation. She was following colours. Maynard was red, like rage, and through her distraction, Maijan tried to sort through the colours until she found a memory that matched, and she could keep the illusion alive.
After a few panicked heartbeats, Maijan found another red swell in the corners of Djorn's mind and dug, dug, dug it out. Her moves were lethargic, and she was becoming distracted.
And Loske, the false, stood silently. As if she were thinking deeply. Until she repeated the name, slowly, tentatively, as though she were hearing it for the first time.
The illusion couldn't finish the sentiment. Its maestro was losing concentration. The drugs were overwhelming her system.
Instead, the blonde was forced to repeat back more recent words.
Her expression hardened as though she looked offended. And she shook her head. Maijan tried to keep the story alive, the smouldering, long-lost ache between the star-crossed pair.
Loske's voice, the way he remembered it, filled the space with the thoughts that Djorn had just created.
THE TRICKSTER
NEW ALDERA | ORBITAL DEFENSE BASE | CONTROL ROOM
Maijan had been rapt in the interaction, watching the evolution like a holofilm and pulling at strings as she felt them. Elysian was found in the currents between the mind and the perception, and the colours grew brighter in their harmony.
Slowly, her concentration devolved. It was becoming more and more difficult to focus, and the accelerated heartbeat she'd felt pounding in her ribcage filled the oft hollow beneath her jaw. Her rapid pulse fluttered in her throat, and she gasped while the colours danced around her imperceivably.
She reached out, and the illusion she'd created reached back as though it were offering comfort to Maijan, who was desperately starting to fail. With her concentration flickering, the veil she'd wrapped herself in was slowly sacrificing itself for the stability of the blonde mirage which seemed to have an impressive sway over the Imperial.
ALLIES | THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE | SIA FOES | THE EMPIRE | Djorn Bline
Location: New Aldera Orbital Defense Base Objective: Aegis of Liberty Tags:Valery Noble
/ Kelinna Tryn
Silas seemed to have triggered something deep inside Lily, a long lost thought or memory which had plagued her in the past. He watched as her face went through a roller coaster of emotions. The padawan wanted to feel sorry for her, in more ways than one he didn't have room to show the soldier that emotion. Glaring at her he wasn't sure if she was going to accept at first, but hesitantly the woman finally caved in and gave him ten minutes to do what he wanted.
With a soft sigh, the padawan let her drop to her feet. He seemed to glare at her silently for a few moments, a small nod going to her finally in response "You made the right choice..." he said while beginning to back away "But I'm afraid your resumed attack will be worthless" Silas stated just when he reached the door and walked out. Placing his saber into his pocket he looked to the solidiers down the hallway and raised his hands, showing he wasn't going to break the deal as he returned to friendly lines.
At that time, a strange feeling washed over him. They were sure to meet again, and next time there would be no time to bargain...
The padawan finally made it back and shortly found Master Valery down the corridor behind friendly troops. She seemed to instantly make sure he was alright, her eyes looking over the various injuries he had sustained. The worst was the bad looking bruise on his chin and the nasty cut that was along his shoulder, both of which were not serious enough for him to stop.
"I'm fine Master, don't worry about me," he said back coldly, his face still looking agitated from the confrontation he had just gone through. Silas knew he wasn't himself during that fight, he was very close to ignoring everything he had known in the force to kill the woman right there and then for her insolence. If it wasn't for Valery telling him to fall back, who knew what could have happened?
"Let's just... go alright?" he said again in a mutter, his body lightly pushing back his master and slowly walking down the corridor to another defensive point. The talk could be left for later, right now they had to hold the Imperial horde.
The numbers on her displays were changing more quickly now: falling in reference to the the strength of the flotilla's shields, rising in reference to their casualties. Two massive spikes occurred as a wave of bombers cut across the 74th's reshaping line of escort ships, the frigates buckling and wailing under the impacts of quickly aimed ordnance. The group's two Aurora-class destroyers, the Aurora and Theia put their autocannons on overdrive in response, filling the battlefield around them with a swath of miniaturized bolts of shrapnel and hyper-accelerated particles. Though normally extremely precise in their motions, the cannons were made to fire in more erratic patterns with every impact to their home ships' hulls.
The heaviest of the flotilla continued to tax their retrograde thrusters as they fell into a retreat from the Alliance-Imperial melee. The guns on their surfaces fired at a diminished rate, lacking the support of the coolant fluids that were primarily flowing to engines.
While the surrounding cruisers flew backward in mostly unshaken lines, Lightmaker struggled, limping terribly as the orders of two conflicting commanders collided with one another. The Imperials had broken into the carrier's maneuvering nets, cutting through the data lines running in from the helm computers on the bridge. Through their hijacking, the vessel as a whole began to shudder even more violently than before, its armored nose falling to aim into a neighboring fleet. Badly rattled engineering officers were the only bulwark against the Imperials' sabotage, desperately working to bypass the points of hostile intervention through the ship's redundant power lines. In the end, they were only slowing the advancing controls of the boarding teams.
News reached Liedran's ears quickly enough, relayed through the intercoms by her first officer, a grim addition to the other updates running in from around the ship.
They were gathering outside the main bridge turbolift; security camera showed two spacetroopers entering the lift itself, zooming up.
"Deactivate that lift! NOW!"
The bridge wobbled and felt the sudden halting lurch of the turbolift just underneath. A relieved ensign slumped over the bridge's tertiary engineering console. Her eyes briefly met Liedran's as the admiral nodded in thanks.
Her demeanor darkened quickly, the admiral remembering the worsening situation still plaguing her flagship. "Four marines by the lift door." If the other sabotage teams caught wind of the halted turbolift, they wouldn't have a hell of a lot of trouble reactivating it. Her focus fell back on the outer motions of the Lightmaker; she was still reeling starboard as the Imperial teams dug into her engines. Aside from the desperately deployed wings of Alliance space droids, the space troopers were facing little resistance in that area. "Can we manage an energy pulse in the direction of our impulse drives?" she asked, loudly enough that her desperation was palpable to all who heard her. At the risk of completely frying the engines, a well-managed wave of electroplasma could be made to flow into the drive sections, detonating circuitry and otherwise spewing pure death into the faces of the spacetroopers working on them.
"We don't have a lot to work with, ma'am. We've lost control of everything besides for secondary systems. Anything we try from here is going to be ineffective."
Dammit... Liedran grimaced. She tried to gauge her own rising desperation, wondering what she'd be willing to do to her own ship just to disable these boarders.
The answer was, she decided, a lot. If the Imperials succeeded in taking Lightmaker,they could cripple the Alliance advance, and every sacrifice would be for naught. "Tight line to Regal Squadron. Give them my express authorization to target our drives. Laser salvos only." If a more elegant solution to disable them couldn't be managed in time, she'd just have to swing a hammer at the engines themselves.
The carrier's breeched hangar continued to burn as Alliance and Imperial soldiers exchanged volley after volley. Lightmaker's marines had managed to push further into the bay, taking cover behind some of the flaming wreckage the spacetroopers at left in their path. Despite Liedran's hopes of the engagement ending quickly, the battle was more a deadlock than anything. Alliance marines would poke their heads from the wreckage, fire off volleys with whatever accuracy their training and composure allowed for, and duck back down. A pair of fire teams had split from the group, looping around the makeshift fortifications to reinforce the crewmen left hunkered down on the other side of the bay.
Across the decks, the fighting was more scattered, more aggressive. Soon after being alerted to the position of Lieutenant Freefall's 1st Task Force, Alliance fire teams rushed into the corridor neighboring the bridge turbolift. They ducked behind whatever they could-- the corners where two walls would meet, or behind the badly charred forms of blast doors. Further down the ship's spine, a swath of Alliance battle droids rushed into the infiltrated power distribution centers, breaking apart and magnetically clamping to the walls as they drove laser torches into the bulkheads, looming ever-closer to their prey. What droids were not purposed with cutting inside would be stationed outside, waiting with blasters in hand.
The battle raging outside the flagship's hull would see the fiery death of the ANV Overture as one of Ignacious Korvan
's fighter strikes broke through its shields, then through its reactor core. The 74th's remaining support ships scrambled to fill the gap, taking on further impacts to their shields as they slammed through the debris.
Batteries across the fleet began to scramble to find new targets all of a sudden, re-armed in response to the waves of boarding craft beginning to fall from the belly of Korvan's flagship. The frigates in the bulwark of the formation were most active in the motions of their point defense batteries, closely assisted by the more lethal batteries of the flotilla's two Novella-class cruisers.
The heavier vessels gathered around Lightmaker in desperate defense of their flagship became witness to a demoralizing sight. The carrier's straining, hijacked engine block was set alight by the bombardment of the flotilla's own Regal Squadron. Though momentum would still carry her in the direction of other friendly forces, it was at a significantly reduced pace, buying ample time for the helmsmen of the Imperials' intended target to leave the carrier's path.
All came at the cost of leaving Lightmaker effectively dead in space. No longer was retreat an option at Liedran's disposal, not unless she wanted to abandon ship and hope the Imperials weren't such monsters as to shoot down her escape pods.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry until the vicious battle was finally over. Any verdict would be a sweet release.
Grim resolve flashed across Margo’s features as she moved in concert with her fireteam. It would seem as though the initial security officers who had stood in the opening had fallen victim to the fusilade leveled against them, but a handful of others took positions behind consoles near the entrance and returned fire. Blaster bolts pinged against the riot shields held in front, but even still a stray bolt nailed one of the soldiers right next to Margo square in the helmet. His armored form collapsed unceremoniously as they continued their advance.
It did not take long to realize something was up as the amount of fire coming in from before them began to intensify - so much so that the squad was forced to take cover along the walls of a T-Junction approximately 15 meters away from the door. The fireteam split in half and took cover around both corners, providing a momentary respite for one of the troopers in the team to speak up. <“Sir, i’m picking up a transmission, likely from someone within the engineering room. They’re calling for reinforcements.”>
Margo gritted her teeth. ‘Great...’ she thought to herself. ‘Just what I need...’ Despite the small level of bemusement beginning to bleed into her subconscious, she was quick to take command of the situation.
<“Corporal, you will take six other troopers and secure this T-Junction. The rest of you, on me. Riot shields forward!”> At her mark, the heavy troopers carrying the shields ducked back into the corridor, and Margo wasted little time falling in behind them along with the other five of those with her. She reached on her belt again, and produced a thermal detonator. Without a moment’s pause, she primed the explosive and heaved it over the shield. Like a bullet, the explosive rocketed toward the door - with Margo shouting over the comm channel: <“BRACE!>”
Darth Strelok weaved through a battlefield in the upper atmosphere of New Alderaan, blasting apart another fighter.
That was when a torrent ( and not the bit kind) of laser fire managed to partially scorch her hull and sent her fighter into a spiral that she barely righted in time, her Astromech immediately working to try and stabilize any damage the electronics had suffered, shutting down electricals that were on fire.
Strelok craned her head to face the threat. A red colored TIE.
An Ace.
Strelok veered hard to port, to evade the concentrated, careful spray of fire that nearly blasted apart her engines, and zipped back aggressively at the direction of her foe, and they were suddenly playing chicken while trying to dodge eachothers fire, forced to break off the attack, though she immediately was forced into a chase by him, and she was struggling to control the craft properly with its malfunctioning engine. But to give up now would be death.
"ALERT. MISSILE LOCK DETECTED." Her fighter systems warned.
Strelok gunned it for as much as she dared, pulling back earlier than she would have liked to on the controls to continue evading the missile, her astromech transmitted that the damaged engine's stress was increasing.
"I know! don't warn me again unless its REALLY in trouble!" Strelok hissed. "She'll hold together..."
One of the Enemy Ace's bolts managed to scorch her hull as he chased her through swarms of other fighters and laser cannon blasts, explosions bigger than what occurs in the human digestive tract on chilli night.
"C'mon, baby, hold together..." she said under her breath.
(Cutaway of Lando Calrissian running for DA of Gotham City)
Strelok weaved through the flights of others, occasionally attracting strays as she flew, only for them to get immediately shot down after she evaded their fire while evading the fire of the enemy ace. He maanaged to nick her again and she lost a laser cannon. Crap.
"MISSILE. MISSILE." her warning system blared.
Strelok pulled a severe Immelmann and weaved herself right into the rocket's path and reaching a gloved hand out.
The Missile wobbled more and more, until it flew off course and exploded, and she jerked the craft starboard, releasing the fighter's cargo as she did into the explosion and flying downward to the planet in a brutal corkscrew that stretched the inertial dampeners to their limits, before she jerked the craft back upward to re-engage the Ace, who only too late realized the ruse and began to veer off...
...and got sprayed by Strelok's last remaining laser cannon, being blasted apart.
Strelok straight up cackled the way Ledger did after the helicopter crashed.
Imperial Fighters in the area have intensified their efforts to intercept and disrupt the remaining bomber swarm, with the surrounding escort ships attempting to screen the Primus from further attack.
<"Break off!"> The escorts began to enclose the space around the Primus, point-defence weapons clogging the space around the star destroyer.
That defintiely got their attention. Every diverted TIE was another not shooting up the main bomber groups. Shar checked back on the radar: the main bomber group had reached the forward contact line of the Imperial battlegroup, beginning their own attack runs on the Vandal corvettes.
In the meantime, Shar and his attack groups scattered as the Imperials rushed to encircle them. Had this been a larger attack group, many more of the Alliance starfighters would have been caught in the tightening net. As it stood now, while several were caught up in the defensive swarm, most scattered in solo or pairs, filtering through the gaps in the escort ships or TIE swarms.
<"Slayer Two to attack groups, loop back to Alliance lines but avoid main bomber group. Keep TIEs on you and away from main group as long as possible!">
Shar grunted as he pushed all power to engines, dodging several TIE drones swarming towards him. He took a hard turn, skimming across the underbelly of another Star Destroyer before breaking off into open space. Ten TIE drones were on him along, and Shar throttled up, putting space between them. He weaved between Imperial capital ships, breaking line of fire from the drones as much as possible while still baiting themtowards him. Their lasers flashed past, some splashing on his rear shields, and he watched in concern as it began to deplete. His rear-mouted lasers fired from time to time as the drones cut through its fire arc, but it only really served to keep them off-balance. If drones could be kept off-balance, that is.
In the meantime, another bomber group was following close on the tail of the first. Partially composed of a complement of X-Wings, the fighters ranged ahead and engaged the Imperial Fighter Group 2 while the other bombers joined the main group, also tangling with the swarm of TIEs. Shar watched from afar as he continued to lead the drones on a wild chase into empty space: attack groups managed to peel off from the furball and were laying into the Vandal corvettes screening the battleline, but took equally heavy punishment from the point defenses of those ships. The escort ships, focussed on defending Primus and hit from the side by the main group, were out of position, giving an opening to another attack group to make probing attacks on the Valiant-class SDs.
The stranded group peels off and scatters in all directions, sending the Imperial Fighter Group 1 to chase them in all directions.
Main bomber group receives reinforcements, engaging Imperial Fighter Group 2. Several bomber flights break out of the furball to hammer the out of position escort corvettes and sneak a few attack runs on the battleline itself.
Mylo's sensors told him a much different story than his heart did. The Imperial line was close enough now that he could perceive the hulking might of wedge-shaped Star Destroyers piercing the carefully ordered Alliance Fleet. Just as he took a quick glance down at his dashboard, the mark that seemed to be trailing him broke off. Perhaps by some force of habit, he wanted to know why, to inquire and chase down the fighter. But it was seeming quite clear that it wasn't a tenable strategy anymore, and his plan was already in motion, however dire the situation might have been. And the situation was dire indeed. His communications feed told him that the Lightmaker, the flagship of the Alliance force at Tython was besieged by spacetroopers. Fighting to keep a grimace off his face, he scanned the abyss, permeated by hailing storms of red and green, the two forces still exchanging fire.
He knew for sure that this wasn't exactly going on the side of the Alliance, and the odds didn't particularly seem in their favour. But he'd come this far without odds, and he was going to keep going without them. Commodore Kathause had been so gracious to spare an Aurora-class light destroyer, the Chariot, in order to carry out the plan. It was only one ship, but Mylo surmised that he probably didn't need a whole task force to try and execute this plan. The pilot opened up a secure channel with the ship. "Chariot, this is Revenant Six. For this plan to work, you're going to need to be able to take a beating. We need you to head straight for the Imperial line at point blank range, engage them, and draw some fire providing a distraction that'll ease the tension both for our fleet and the attacking starfighters."
"Roger that Six, we're on it." He watched the small vessel use its powerful thrusters to propel itself surprisingly rapidly toward the Imperial Fleet. Time for his part of the plan. Kicking in the throttle, he angled the stick, leading into the attack with his port wing. The X-Wing cut through, green laser bolts passing over the cockpit. Mylo cycled to single cannon fire, letting off a few snapshots from his starboard wing, one passing through a TIE Drone, and make a neat hole in the middle of where a cockpit might have been. Angling round the resulting explosion, he checked the groups of the squadrons that he had taken a long with him that would have a good chance of defending the fleet. There was Strike Squadron, an X-Wing unit like his own flight, Yellow Squadron, a B-Wing unit, and Valiant Squadron, an unit made of the wedge-shaped A-Wings.
"Everyone here?"
"Strike Leader, standing by."
"Yellow One, standing by."
"Valiant One, standing by."
"Alright, we have to defend the fleet, we've got heavy fire on the north side from those Star Destroyers accompanied by numerous starfighter screens including Squints, Dupes and Drones. Parts of Revevant and Valiant, we need to get on those TIE Bombers, stop them from strafing the fleet. Yellow, try and get those remaining Space Troopers on the Lightmaker, we can't let it fall. Strike, you're on the Drones and Squints, if we can destroy the escorts we have a good chance of eliminating their bomber force. Everyone clear?" A long exhale went out as everyone reporting in their understanding of the plan. He pulled up his weapons systems, and switched to his warheads, cycling the firing mode to quick-lock. Mylo could almost hear the warheads falling into the chamber a the X-Wing shoot straight on toward the advancing bomber force, skimming the pock-marked surface of an Alliance light cruiser.
"Steady, steady.." The crosshairs aligned on a couple of bombers, and as soon as the box went green, Mylo let off four proton torpedoes which sailed straight toward the slow-moving, trailing Bomber force. This also hopefully had the double effect of drawing the attention of the Drones. Stamping a foot on the etheric rudder, he simultaneously pulled the stick back towards his chest, feeling the X-Wing lurch upward, invert and then roll to become level again. Making another sharp, arcing turn, he watched as a number of TIE Drones seemed to fall in mechanically, with the intention of removing him from the battle. One fighter managed to catch up to him and he broke hard to starboard as the drone came hurtling toward him. Fanning out into a diagonal, he reversed slightly to let the drone overshoot, and he sent off a few potshots, only one grazing the fighter.
Knowing the droid fighter wouldn't learn its lesson like an organic pilot, he reversed again, letting it overshoot, and switch back to double cannon, spraying laserfire, a few bolts slicing through the wings and vaping the fighter. However, it was common knowledge that numbers were what the fighters relied on. Ping from his computer. One of the drones had a missile lock. "Ah kark it.." Bringing up his EWAR suit, he sent out chaff, scattering particles coming out from the hull of the ship. The resulting explosion from behind did some damage to his shields, which had barely recovered from last time. More fire peppered his aft shields as he watched two more drones approach from the relative east and west. The attackers pulled up to try and vape him from the high altitude, but he broke hard, cutting speed just as the drone broke along with him, sending two darts of fire through its tail before rolling and vaping another one.
But they just seemed to keep coming. More pulled in head on, but luckily the A-Wings of Valiant Squadron had finished with their pursuit of the bombers and were coming to help him. And Mylo wanted to try out a new move that he hadn't had the ability to really flesh out. It was really just a bastardized version of the Corellian slip, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that. "Fly with me, then as soon as they come head on, I'll pitch down and you blast em. Copy?" The un-even voice of the A-Wing pilot complied, and he headed straight toward the drones, soaking up fire, before pitching down, and watching the blast from above as the TIEs were vaped quickly. Climbing back to regain altitude, he sent off a snapshot at a flying idly and watched as it was no longer for the galaxy, disintegrating into a fiery inferno. The moment reminded him that the drones didn't have the same self-preservation instinct as organics did. He'd pondered on what he'd call the new move.
"Thanks for the save Valiant Three."
"Don't mention it Revenant Six."
Swarms of still approaching Imperial fighters, a dogged school of dagger-shaped fish moving as one told him that this wasn't going to be a sustainable strategy. But he trusted his people, and knew that they would get the job done. He opened up communications with Ari Naldax
and Kaul "Joker" Emos
, hoping they weren't hurting too back. "Wolf Leader, Revenant Five, this is Six, the Chariot is providing a distraction for you, you need to take out that Onager, and punch a hole in the Imperial line. The Lightmaker isn't doing too hot, and I'm not sure how long she'll stay standing. We're counting on ya." He moved the channel to the shorter range squadron frequency in order to converse with Shar Sieu
, "Four, you and your group need to help out Major Naldax and Kaul and try and take out a ship, there'll be some peeps redirected to help you out." The uneasy undertone was drowned out by a clear, calm and surprisingly confident voice. But internally, he was having his doubts about the tenability of this bout, watching out into the abyss, he prayed to anything that his people could deliver.
"Yellow, Revenant Four needs help."
"On it." Came the reply as several B-Wings raced to go assist the Gossam pilot.
New Aldera Defense Base [Open to Interaction]
Direct Tag: Monos
, Margo Liaeris
She fiddled anxiously with the weapon, still hidden behind the rather tall frame of an auxiliary station. Most of the others, by now, had taken more active positions with the barrels of their pistols facing the door, laying in wait for the Imperials to finally breech the few inches of shielding. Even the non-combatants had begun to stare; engineers tasked with maintaining the base's power management systems and otherwise supervising the grid threw an increasing amount of glances at the scuffed up and bloodied entrance.
Not Phaineve, though. She did whatever she could to avoid that gruesome, terrible sight, to hide herself from the guilt it planted and nurtured in her soul.
Mox was delayed as far as she could tell, and she hadn't really made friends with any of the other crewmembers, so there wasn't anyone for Phaineve to talk to.
She grimaced; the terrible pain in her shoulder was worsening. She wasn't losing blood, thankfully-- the wound had cauterized immediately, and the round hadn't come near any of her shoulder's more vital components. Though, every second, her burnt skin would shoot up a more intense signal to her brain. It wasn't long before a headache began to settle, seeming to numb the world around her.
And then her body kicked into overdrive.
The sound was terrible, an ear-splitting cacophony of shocked cries blended with the violent tearing of metal as a thermal detonator blew apart the mouth of the entrance. Small, agitated boots scampered around the room, armed crewmen being pushed away from the mouth of the shattered door by the unceasing volleys of fire ripping into the bay.
Between the startling eruption of the detonator, and the furious salvo of plasma shooting through its entry wound, a swath of bodies were left in plain view. Horrible, mangled forms with newly cauterized wounds mingled with the corpses from the first breach.
She couldn't possibly hide forever.
When she finally managed the strength, Phaineve popped out from the console and opened fire.
Valery Noble
/
Kelinna Tryn
