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Location: New Aldera Orbital Defense Base Objective: Aegis of Liberty
"<< I have a plan Master. Be prepared for some fireworks in a few moments>>"
Those were some mildly concerning words to hear from him, but she knew there was no time to really do much about it. So she pushed aside her overprotectiveness and continued to shield her fellow soldiers as much as she could. Moments later, the grenade exploded and while it wasn't going to be enough to take most of them out, it did stop some of the Imperials from continuing their fire, which she exploited by briefly focusing on more precise deflections to send a few of them to the ground.
But even that plan wasn't going to last very long.
As expected, the Imperials were moving and adjusting to deal with the two Jedi who could otherwise overwhelm them, and when the first of them opened fire, Valery felt a strange, yet somehow familiar danger. It reminded her of her brief clash with Boluc Laar, who had briefly turned a particle weapon against her before she took him down with some sharp debris. These thoughts were quickly confirmed when a round exploded against her violet blade, sending her stumbling back a few steps with mild burns scorching the skin of her arms.
Almost immediately, Valery disengaged one of her two lightsabers and extended the hand to project a Force Barrier outwards, large enough to cover herself against the other rounds that quickly followed, but small enough to where the allies behind her could still return fire from behind her.
<T> "Careful, Silas - they're using particle weapons," Valery communicated telepathically to him, just in case one planned to draw such a weapon against her Padawan.
A slight smirk then formed on her lips as the other lightsaber disengaged, and the Force began to channel into her hand. With a sudden and quick motion forward, she tried to extend her grip to two of the Imperials, grip around them and send them flying up against the ceiling head-first to knock them out. With the different angles they had, she couldn't easily target them all, so she would have to take them down in small groups.
As Driver drew closer, he noticed that the armor was heavily modified, more akin to that of the Mandalorian warriors than clone trooper armor. Still, the similarities to the armor of his brothers was… uncanny. Perhaps a bit too coincidental. The man’s voice was certainly helping in that regard as well.
“A-apologies,” Driver remarked, his shoulders drooping slightly. “It just reminded me of something…”
The stranger mentioned that they were leaving. Driver didn’t want him to, not yet. He wanted to learn why his armor was made to look the way it did. It was hard to replicate armor without a template after all. But how to get the man to stay? The clone figured he’d go with the tried and true: Asking for help. No harm in trying, right? Driver took off his helmet, hoping there was a slim chance that the man would recognize his face.
“You seem to be a capable fighter,” Driver remarked. “There are still civilians out in the streets. If you’d be willing, I could use the extra fire power. I can’t guarantee that you’ll have an easy time getting through that blockade, but I can at least get you some covering fire on the way out.”
The collective roar of the TIE Drones surged through the area as they encountered Revenant Squadron, bearing a bit more of a synthetic whine as they approached in a V-formation. As the pilots of the revered Alliance squadron switched to their missiles and attempted to gain a target lock upon the drones, the drones would in turn unleash with a volley of laser cannon fire. The Tempest A.I. within their droid brain would render them a cut above most other droid intelligences, demonstrated by the almost primal, predatory way in which they maneuvered.
After the initial pass, they would break apart into smaller ‘packs’, namely (8) groups of 12. As they began pairing off against each unit of the squadron, the tactic they would employ would revolve around one group ‘baiting’ a member of Revenant squadron, with the other wrapping around and attacking the flanks in a maneuver not dissimilar from a Kilik swarm protecting its hive. Meanwhile, back aboard the bridge of the Ave Imperator, the B-Wing formation which had broken loose and begun advancing upon them had not escaped the bridge crew’s notice...
“Admiral, we have a mass of B-wing bombers advancing upon our position, along a heading tangential to the drone wave currently engaging Revenant Squadron. Should I redirect?”
Ignacious held his tongue as he allowed Rear Admiral Feros to respond. “Order two of the drone squadrons to redirect, and launch the second fighter wave in preparation to defend our picket line.”
“Belay that order, Lieutenant.” Ignacious began. He couldn’t fault the Admiral for his conventional tactics, but conventional thinking would not win the day. Not here. “Order our picket ships to unleash flak missiles and salvos along vector L-37 - level out at the maximum range of our point defense network’s effective range.”The Admiral shot Korvan a glance, but the Grand Moff ignored it as he continued. “Deploy the second fighter group. 3rd and 15th squadron shall reinforce both interceptor squadrons, who shall fly below the flak ceiling. 7th and 9th squadron shall fly above the flak blanket and intercept targets of opportunity.”
Finally, the Admiral couldn’t help himself. “With all due respect sir, what exactly is the meaning of thi--”
Ignacious was quick to cut him off. “Under normal circumstances, Admiral - your orders would be commendable, if not predictable. But this -” Ignacious pointed at the tactical readout, the familiar signatures of Revenant squadron flaring across the display. “This is Revenant Squadron. They’ve spent the better part of the past decade fighting against both the Final Dawn - a paramilitary organization which mimics the very tactics our own navy employs; as well as the savages of the Mawite Marauder fleets. They’ve dealt with both conventional and unconventional tactics, and they will pick you apart if you don’t act accordingly, Admiral.” Rear Admiral Feros bit his lip as he balked under the Grand Moff’s rebuke, and remained silent. With a more conciliatory air, Korvan continued: “The flak bombardment will set a definite ceiling to the engagement zone. Currently, the B-wing formation is flying at that elevation anyway, so the initial burst of fire will disrupt their approach and their formation. The experienced pilots will likely dive below the ceiling and into our point defense network - the inexperienced pilots will fly above the ceiling, where the debris of the flak will interfere with their targeting computers..”
As he spoke, the second fighter group launched from their berths with a distinct, and far more familiar rumble - as if to punctuate the point he was about to make. “The 3rd and 15th TIE fighter squadrons alongside their interceptor counterparts will move in after the first few exchanges of point defense fire - when the B-wings have settled into their traditional evasive tactics. Then, they will pounce. The 7th and 9th shall stay above the flak blanket and intercept what fighters jerked upwards. Once those stragglers have been dealt with, they shall attack from above the B-wing fighters and catch them in a pincer.” The Admiral stared at the Grand Moff for a long moment, analyzing the Grand Moff’s logic. The flak batteries unleashed upon the advancing formation, causing the deck to rumble ever so slightly while the two men locked eyes. Without another word, the Rear Admiral gave Korvan a nod - with a mixture of approval and mild annoyance that he had not thought of the tactic himself.
With a commanding air, Ignacious turned to the tactical station and followed up with his previous orders. “Do we have any information on the Alliance flagship?” A second officer - a pale skinned woman with blonde hair tied neatly in a regulation bun under her cap spoke up.
“The flagship appears to be the ANV Lightmaker - a Hydian-class Tactical Carrier. Based on our prior records, its commander is... Rear Admiral Liedran Kathouse.”
One of the advantages of the Empire & Alliance’s formerly allied status, was the relatively high degree of intelligence that had already been done by their sheer proximity with one another. Doubtlessly, both sides would draw upon the information they had previously acquired about one another - such was the game of former allies now turned enemies. Unfortunately it was a two-way street, but that was a problem to be addressed for another time. Ignacious nodded with approval, and replied: “Send her most recent service record to my command display immediately, and hail her flagship..”
The communications officer’s voice could be heard next. “Sir, I have Lieutenant Freefall from the Space Troopers’ unit on the comm.”
Without hesitation, Ignacious transferred the comm channel to his own station - his weathered but composed disposition on display for the commando as he spoke: “Lieutenant, you are to be commended for being in command of the resurgent Space Trooper outfit assigned to this fleet.” He paused as a faint smile lined his lips, but that smile soon faded as he continued: “The next fighter wave to be launched will be offensive - with a flight plan directed straight into the heart of the Alliance formation. I want you and your soldiers to latch onto our TIE Bombers via attachment hardpoints near the rear. During the attack run, a bombing pass will initiate the engagement, and you and your troopers are to detach thereafter upon the ANV Lightmaker”
He paused, allowing the beginning of his orders to sink in before continuing: “You will board the ship, and together with a complement of Stormtroopers deployed via shuttles after your initial insertion, and will fight your way to the command deck. Your orders are to kill or capture its commander - Rear Admiral Liedren Kathouse. Do you understand?”
As the Grand Moff awaited the Lieutenant’s confirmation, the fleet once again rumbled under the wave of fire sent back by the Alliance fleet. The two formations exchanged fire with an almost tireless rhythm, which would continue until one of them broke. On the Imperial side, the massive capital ships returned fire - this time with the long ranged frigates and Gurka-class Corvettes launching missile waves toward the Allied flank.
The second fighter wave, composed of the (4) outlander TIE squadrons and (2) Interceptor squadrons deployed as ordered, even as the flak bombardment unleashed upon the B-Wing formation advancing upon them. The two sides were locked in a full-scale death struggle, with neither side willing to give an inch.
The question was - would the fleets break first? Or the resolve of its commanders?
Drone TIE fighters open the engagement with Revenant, firing a volley in a V-formation and dispersing to try and encircle and pounce upon each pilot.
Flak bombardement erupts, trying to disrupt the B-wing formation with Point Defense and TIE support
A daring plan is concocted utilizing the Imperial Spacetroopers and a plot to kill or capture the Allied commander - Liedran Kathouse herself!
Objective: Defend New Aldera. Inventory:Knight-Errant Armor, Armistice Staff Lightsaber. Allies: The Galactic Alliance & New Jedi Order. Opposition: Open | Looking for PvP Opponent.
Reaching the boundary of New Aldera, Caedyn Arenais quickly moved to cover with his right side pressed against the wall of the nearest building, reaching for his comlink and inputting a communications frequency of the Galactic Alliance and New Jedi Order that he had been designated on his voyage to the system.
Pausing for a moment, Caedyn considered how to present his arrival to his desired allies in the fight; "This is Jedi Knight Caedyn Arenais seeking to rendezvous with Allied Forces. I've reached the border of New Aldera. Please advise where I'm needed most. I repeat, Jedi Knight Arenais seeking to support the Galactic Alliance. Over". Having announced himself, he returned the comlink to his belt, though ensured any receiving communications would be aired live while he sought to move further towards the heart of the conflict zone.
New Aldera hadn't faired well, and the district looked just as you would expect for a capital city engulfed in war. With his Lightsaber tightly held in his right hand, Caedyn quickened his pace as he turned the corner and moved to run down the main street keeping to the sidewalk for cover from the nearby buildings.
908th Legion - 1st Spacetrooper Company (aka “1st Space”)
Manpower: 100/100
Orders and Targets: Seize Rear Admiral Liedran Kathause, Disable ANV Lightmaker
Allies: Empire | 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
Without hesitation, Ignacious transferred the comm channel to his own station - his weathered but composed disposition on display for the commando as he spoke: “Lieutenant, you are to be commended for being in command of the resurgent Space Trooper outfit assigned to this fleet.” He paused as a faint smile lined his lips, but that smile soon faded as he continued: “The next fighter wave to be launched will be offensive - with a flight plan directed straight into the heart of the Alliance formation. I want you and your soldiers to latch onto our TIE Bombers via attachment hardpoints near the rear. During the attack run, a bombing pass will initiate the engagement, and you and your troopers are to detach thereafter upon the ANV Lightmaker”
He paused, allowing the beginning of his orders to sink in before continuing: “You will board the ship, and together with a complement of Stormtroopers deployed via shuttles after your initial insertion, and will fight your way to the command deck. Your orders are to kill or capture its commander - Rear Admiral Liedren Kathouse. Do you understand?”
[We understand, Grand Moff.] replied Freefall over his comms array. [It will be done.]
Next, the lieutenant changed channels to the 1st Space's secure comms and relayed his orders.
[Comrades, Grand Moff Korvan has informed me that we have been assigned to break into the flagship of the nearby Alliance fleet and secure or eliminate its admiral. Capture is preferential, but elimination is acceptable if there are no alternatives. To speed up our journey, we will be transported on TIE bombers which are about to leave this very hangar with a new wave of fighters.]
[This objective shall have three phases. First, we shall all work together under my command to eliminate local point-defense batteries on the Alliance flagship so that we may approach unhindered. Secondly, we shall identify the critical points of the flagship, including its command bridge, engines, main hangars, and power centers. Finally, once these points are confirmed, we shall split into four task forces of twenty-five to breach the bridge and other key components of the flagship, securing the admiral and crippling the fleet.]
[Does anyone have any questions?]
There were several seconds of radio silence.
[Good. Ave Rurik.]
The spacetroopers walked over to a squadron of TIE bombers, their pilots briefly saluting them before scurrying up the hatches into their chambers. Five troopers stuck themselves to the back and sides of each bomber, the pads of their armor fusing to the hardpoints of the bombers as they roared off into space.
[This kinda feels like riding on the side of an APC, only we're in the middle of space.] commented one trooper over the radio.
[Not just that.] continued another trooper. [We're being carried through the middle of a huge space battle!]
[Don't you think it would be pretty awful if a squad of Alliance aces just pulled up and blew us all to shreds?] replied a third private. [I mean, they call these things "dupes" for a reason.]
[Let's have some more confidence in our boys in the eyes.] responded Freefall, weighing in on the conversation. [Even if we do get screwed over and have the best of the Alliance tailing us, we can just eject from the bombers and we'll still be a lot closer than if we had just jetpacked the entire way.]
[Fair point.] replied the pessimistic private. [But are we seriously going straight at the ship with hundreds of starfighters swarming out of it as we speak?]
[They have plenty to distract them.] concluded Lieutenant Freefall. [Commence Phase One.]
Just as the fleet carrier's point-defense cannons started to aim towards the approaching bombers, the spacetroopers detached their limbs from the hardpoints, releasing themselves into the vaccum of space.
Seconds later, one hundred jetpacks roared to life, sending the finest space marines in the galaxy straight ahead towards the top left of the Alliance carrier.
N I N E S Predictably enough, the Alliance defenders fought back.
The 15th surged through relentless fire, adopting a "cover-hopping" strategy common in the 908th's urban warfare training. Rather than seeking to meet the enemy as rapidly as possible, the stormtroopers of the regiment instead sought cover from which to fire behind. As their aggression increased, they moved to cover closer to their enemy, rapidly dashing through open space to minimize casualties.
Furthermore, the brief cover granted by structures in the outer city gave each stormtrooper a chance to observe their foes.
[Devin, were you aware that this Alliance unit had Obrak mounts?] asked FN-999 through his secure comms channel. He lay ducked under a concrete barricade with two other stormtroopers who were exchanging ammunition for their respective rifles.
[No, sir. It seems as if they had been kept in reserve.] replied the scout trooper lieutenant a few seconds later. [It seems as if a few are being used as messengers, and a few more as light cavalry.]
[Understood, thank you.]
Taking advantage of the still-intact barricade, FN-999 opened a frequency to his entire regiment.
[The defenders have Obrak mounts. Snipers, kill the riders and capture the mounts. Everyone else, do the opposite. If the mounts die with the riders on them, they will be distracted for just long enough to land a shot on them. Expect an update soon. Nines ou-]
The entire right third of the barricade burst apart, the shrapnel mortally wounding one of the two troopers and knocking the other one unconscious. Fortunately, FN-999 had been closer to the left of the barricade and suffered only minor shrapnel and heat wounds. His heart pounding, he risked a glance up above the barricade to see a war machine twice his height looming fifteen meters away, one of its large arm-mounted cannons pointed at the barricade.
Clearly, he had to move.
[Requesting anti-tank weaponry at my coordinates!] ordered FN-999 frantically as he broke for it, sprinting to the rubble of a ruined four-story building.
Fortunately, he arrived at the ruins before the huge droid fired again, giving him even better cover for the near future.
Now relatively safe once more, FN-999 took a moment to catch his breath and re-order his thoughts. It was extremely unlikely that a squad of stormtroopers could take down one of the giant droids without special weapons, and the droids could annihilate several troopers in a single shot. However, there also didn't appear to be many of them. His encounter was only one of four the entire 15th had in the past hour, with the other three being reported elsewhere on the Alliance left flank. Furthermore, the droids seemed to lack significant infantry support, instead being sent out as one-man army equivalents.
FN-999 was beginning to suspect that there were far fewer Alliance soldiers on the left flank than previously estimated.
As it seemed, other commanders had made such observations independently.
[Nines, this is Silvertongue. I think we may have overestimated the scale of this Alliance force. It appears to be no larger than a company, Alliance standard size.]
[Nines, this is Rajat. Our reports coming in suggest the Alliance force on their far left flank is not larger than a company. I suggest we escalate into full battle and wipe them out here.]
Rajat's comment gave the lieutenant colonel pause.
[Major Rajat, we cannot commit to a full battle.] responded FN-999. [We MUST continue a skirmish to minimize our casualties.]
[With all due respect, consider the possibility of destroying not one, but two Alliance task forces on their left flank. It could be the catalyst for its weakening and total collapse. This could decide the battle!]
In a sense, Major Rajat reminded FN-999 of himself five years ago. Still a budding officer then, he had put his heart and mind into the pursuit of greatness in the name of the Empire, happy to throw his life and that of his subordinates away in a heartbeat for the greater good. However, Nines had grown wiser over the years. As much as the average stormtrooper loved the Empire, they also often desired to have their own will. Treating foot soldiers as mere pawns to be tossed into the meat grinder to achieve a greater goal would only create distrust and antagonism, breaking down the bonds that turned soldiers into brothers.
[Your sentiment is commendable. However, we cannot risk overextending or falling into the urban quagmire under any circumstances until we are reinforced. We have no intel on the inner city, and there is no telling what traps await us there. It is best that we keep skirmishing and have smaller forces split off to assist our allies.]
[Silvertongue, take five hundred nearby troopers and have them split off from the skirmishing line. They will complete the encirclement of the forces engaged by Moff Braxis. Ave Rurik.]
Marcus landed with a thud before he tucked and charged before throwing himself into a roll and letting a grenade fly as he came up against a fallen tree. The thermal imploder arced across the air, landing at the feet of several stormtroopers. The sound was glorious.
FN-999's attention returned to the battlefield as he saw two bloodstained stormtroopers running towards him from the right, one of them missing an arm.
"Sir!" called one of the troopers, her voice raspy. "Please get him to safety. He was at the edge of a thermal detonator explosion - it killed the rest of our squad."
"Stay with him and contact the field medics." replied FN-999. "I'll take a look at this disturbance myself."
If a thermal detonator had been deployed, then either special forces or an Alliance hot-shot was on the battlefield.
FN-999 unholstered his rifle, moving its stock to his shoulder and aiming around the outer edge of the ruined building. The smoke of the thermal detonator blast still covered the grassy park ahead, the nearby plants either burnt to ash or charred pitch black. Suddenly, an unfamiliar silhouette appeared in the smoke.
C A V A L I E R THE EMPIRE
NEW ALDERAAN | NEW ALDERA Aaran Tafo
If the Jedi was skilled with a lightsaber and the Force, Simon would’ve been disappointed to see him unable to defend himself from his attack. He was able to without flaw, as he survived the madness of this battle. New and old warriors would always be victims to the death from war, but whom would it be between these two heroes from their own nations?
The only and major flaw with Soresu was how fast could the practitioner keep up with pace? The ultimate defense it was, but it took time to master its art and even then it still required more to hone it. How much did Aaran knew?
A strike came after his parry, right at the Crusader’s midsection. His lightsaber went to intercept Aaran’s blade emphasizing strength into his block. A block only to try to make Aaran lose balance and shift backwards. His defense was based on Simon’s speed and strength; if unable to match it, he would be doomed.
A great leap he took with momentum that it would be used to lunge straight into Aaran’s abdomen.
“A great pity…not being able to see the lies of the Jedi and the Alliance. Only a pawn you will remain.”
The blaster shot fired at him brought to life his personal energy shield in an explosive fashion; it roared and flashed at the impact point where the bolt hit it, bringing its reserves down to eighty percent outright. But Mox lived, for now.
The energy dissipated in a wave of heat and light, and Sylus braced himself as he hit on the passage on the back. When he looked again, the alien was gone.
Grabbing onto the vent grate that opens sideways from the narrow tube he flew up in, the tiny agent quickly flips out his welding torch to melt open a circular hole wide enough for him to slip through and away from this pursuing phantom.
At least the alien was not shooting back. Sylus re-evaluated: better to make for the objective or continue to chase? The place was already on high alert, and if nothing else, seemed to be caught by surprise. It was unlikely his target would be highly defended even if the alien sounded the alarm.
Mox tears out the carved-out plate of the vent cover and throws it down below him and attempts to slip away once more, this time into an even narrower duct.
Sylus could hear the alien scatter away, down what sounded like a smaller passage, if he heard the echoes right. He reconsidered again, thinking if he should give chase. But no, there was no time.
Sylus continued moving, crawling then creeping along the tubes towards his target. The sounds of battle filtered into the tunnels: the battle had truly started. As he continued deeper into the heart of the base, he wondered if SCAR under Kelinna Tryn
or Margo Liaeris
needed further support.
“The flak bombardment will set a definite ceiling to the engagement zone. Currently, the B-wing formation is flying at that elevation anyway, so the initial burst of fire will disrupt their approach and their formation. The experienced pilots will likely dive below the ceiling and into our point defense network - the inexperienced pilots will fly above the ceiling, where the debris of the flak will interfere with their targeting computers..”
As he spoke, the second fighter group launched from their berths with a distinct, and far more familiar rumble - as if to punctuate the point he was about to make. “The 3rd and 15th TIE fighter squadrons alongside their interceptor counterparts will move in after the first few exchanges of point defense fire - when the B-wings have settled into their traditional evasive tactics. Then, they will pounce. The 7th and 9th shall stay above the flak blanket and intercept what fighters jerked upwards. Once those stragglers have been dealt with, they shall attack from above the B-wing fighters and catch them in a pincer.”
The cloud of flak broke upon the bombers like a wave. That most reliable of anti-air fire, powered by nothing more than mass and velocity, shredding metal and flesh. Instinctively, the bomber formation broke apart, most heading 'down' towards their targets and into the lancing blasts of point defense fire. Others broke 'up', away from the target but also hopefully away from direct fire. Shar bit his lip. He was not in command of anyone in the formation: more of a straggler that got caught up in the undertow, really, so he could not command anyone. The comms came alive with status reports: some squadrons scattered but most held formation, diving into the attack, dodging and weaving.
On the scopes, they detected incoming TIEs into the main B-Wing formation: interceptors backed up by others still forming up. The B-Wings could power through at heavy cost, but the ones on the other side of the flak barrier would be picked off by other TIEs. They needed to preserve as much numbers in a coherent force for a knockout blow.
<"Revenant Four, get out of the flak cloud!" > One of the Y-Wing squadron commanders called. Shar knew what he had to do.
<"Negative, Slayer Lead, I'm going to ride the cloud: staying close to it. If I stay inside the flak area and keep power to shields, I should be able to ride through it,"> Shar said. He grunted as a near blast tossed his B-Wing about, but his shields held firm, redirecting weapon power to it.
<"Their point-defense can't reach the cloud, and they won't chance their drone swarms flying into the flak field.">
<"Negative, that's very risky, I can't send the entire force into a flak field.">
<"Not asking you to, sir, though I would not mind the numbers. It would be better if we split their fire and came at them from another angle."> Shar did not wait for confirmation. Powering ahead, Shar kept his sights on the black clouds erupting ahead of him, riding towards and through them after they had already dissipated their deadly payload. On his scope he could see the stragglers on the far side of the flak field, reforming and preparing to dive back through the flak to rejoin the others. But as he sped closer to the line, he saw dozens of contacts aiming to flank the stragglers.
<"Coral squadron, on your nine o' clock!"> This was the 7th and 9th squadrons. As the straggler bombers scrambled to reform in a direction facing the oncoming TIEs, Shar yanked on the control stick, heading away from the capital ships and flanking the TIEs in return. They likely did not expect a B-Wing coming in from the flak field, and that was all the time Shar needed to transfer power to weapons and fire off two proximity missiles into the thick of the TIEs, aiming to scatter them. After he thumbed the missiles off, watching them streak ahead, he fired his Heavy Laser Cannons and Ion Cannons at increased power at long-range, spraying a stream of bolts into the formation. It worked: the TIEs scattered a little too late, the proximity missiles detonating close to several and sending some careening off-course. The stream of bolts from an unexpected angle caught a couple, shorting out one and destroying another. The distraction gave the straggler bombers time to reform as a group, and they turned their cannons on the TIEs.
In a few seconds, the furball erupted: both groups now dodging and weaving at close quarters. Alliance big guns against Imperial maneuverability. Several of the TIEs broke off and vectored to Shar, itching to make the Gossam pay for his spoiling attack. With equally dogged determination, Shar flew towards them, guns chattering death. His cannons blew apart another TIE, but the other three continued on their intercept course, and lasers splashing across his shields. He watched the shield indicator dip dangerously low between each accurate salvo, and Shar struggled to pull away.
The trio chased him, easily following his turn. His rear lasers belched fire again, and one of the TIEs came a little too close, forced to hang back as a stray laser bolt slipped past its shields to hit its wings. Out of his frontal arc, he could do little but try to bait them into a bad angle. Little by little, the larger battle faded from his mind as he watched his shield deteriorate, the TIEs almost toying with him. He was about to contemplate making a run for the flak cloud when one of the TIEs disappeared from his scope. Confused, Shar slew his cockpit monitor to the rear, just in time to watch another TIE explode from a hail of fire from the side.
<"This is Slayer Two, hang tight Rev Four."> Shar watched as the last TIE broke off to rejoin its comrades in the furball, escaping the trap laid by a flight of B-Wings and Y-Wings that entered the area.
<"Slayer Lead send you over?">
<"Nope, just thought your idea was just crazy enough to work, though we seem to have another problem to deal with first.">
<"Affirmative. Falling into formation now.">
The Y-Wings and B-Wings of this new formation formed up and vectored towards the 7th and 9th, guns at full power.
By dumb luck, 7th and 9th TIE squadron attempt to pick off stragglers that went 'above' the flak field meets resistance from a flanking force of a few Y-Wing fighter-bombers and B-Wing heavy assault that flew back through the flak field. The rest of the force is still powering towards their target, presumably already engaging interceptors, 3rd and 15th.
Location: New Aldera Orbital Defense Base Objective: Aegis of Liberty Tags:Valery Noble
/ Kelinna Tryn
The small grenade flew across the corridor with surprisingly good accuracy, but when it hit the ground the shockwave managed to do as he envisioned. Its deafening sound echoed throughout the corridor, surely ringing a few ears in the process while the enemy troops tried to rally back together. Peeking around the corner, he was looking for a spot to push up even further to push the attack. Just when he was about to move, master Valery warned him of the weapons they were using. His breath gasped slightly, and not long after a wave of bolts fired on his position.
Silas jumped back and stumbled away from the doorway, just about avoiding getting peppered by the unforgiving troops "<<Yea, you're not wrong! they've got me pinned down tightly over here>>" he warned his master, just before seeing six figures run through the thick smoke in the corridor. Keeping his saber lowered, he carefully walked closer to the doorway which was still getting shot at, and looked to jump out at any point to try and surprise them in the smoky environment.
However, someone else had the same idea as him.
A figure jumped forward and lunged her blade straight at his abdomen, looking to surprise and cut down the teen with a single blow. Silas's eyes shot open again and he was only given moments to react. With a grunt, he rotated his body to the right and avoided the sharp blade by inches. Then, with quick intentions, he shot his leg forwards to kick the elite trooper back a few inches to gain some space and get a true feel of who he was up against. Silas shot his icy glare at the woman and knew she was different compared to the rest, now this was going to be a challenge.
"You've still got a chance to run and pull back your men..." he offered the woman, but even he knew there was no chance of that happening. Sighing, Silas suddenly lunged at the soldier with a number of strikes towards her chest, using it as a way to draw her into striking him and stepping into his game.
IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL New Aldera, Inner City Block
Kirie was feeling better. Was feeling better. She’d had a vacation, taken the Mercury to hop around some remote fringe worlds, and come back relaxed, refreshed, ready to take on a new chapter.
Then she’d been dragged into this.
The entire neighbourhood was either smouldering or actively burning. Kirie had lumbered out of the shelled out remains of the third apartment in a row. Coughing, sputtering, her hands on her knees as smoke burned her eyes and mouth. A trail of ragged survivors were now emerging behind her, those who had made it to the basement and others who’d hid in door frames and stairwells. A few dozen people alive, the rest broken and twisted beneath titanium and duracrete.
Having recovered enough to stand, Kirie took a look around. There had been another firefight in the time she had been inside the bombed building, and a squad of local resistance soldiers lay dead at the end of the road. Further on, she could see the superior force of Stormtroopers who had slain them. The imperials were moving slowly down the road, and would be on top of her in minutes. That meant she had to move.
Kirie had done all she could for the survivors at that moment, so she left them to regain their senses and hopped over the low wall into the alley that ran alongside the collapsed apartment block. It was a shame she hadn’t made it all the way up the street, but she couldn’t risk a head-on confrontation with a company of stormtroopers. She would just have to circle back. The alley was narrow, and the choking ash and dust meant she could scarcely see into the darkened entrances of the buildings beside her, let alone the end of the passage ahead.
So it was that Kirie felt the pang of warning in her gut, ducking aside just as something heavy swooped by the space her head had occupied a moment area, instead striking her shoulder with a painful crunch.
”Not on our game today are we, Jedi?" Came the mocking voice, unmistakably filtered through a trooper's helmet.
Kirie carried her momentum forward into a shoulder roll, but as she straightened up she was met by a boot to the chest that knocked her onto her back in an instant. Winded, she caught a glimpse of her assailants: two Imperial scouts, one in front of her, the other a few paces behind.
On her back she knew she was in danger. She tried to roll sideways to get onto her knees, but the press of a booted foot against her chest pushed her back down. Kirie raised her hand to call on the Force and throw the trooper aside, but she was panicking and unable to concentrate. Once more she was savagely kicked. This time in the side, and she saw the trooper above her raise his blaster, wincing as an instant later she felt the shot hit her chestplate, instantly burning through the clothing above and dissipating across the ultrachrome with the feeling of being struck by a hammer.
The trooper wasted no time changing tactics, and Kirie, dazed, could barely raise her arms up before he was on top of her, a vibroknife in his hand. She blocked the first swing with her forearm, but the scout batted her aside easily and raised the knife for a killing strike. As he did so Kirie caught movement out of the corner of her eye and a rock struck the scout on the helmet. He turned his head to look, and Kirie used that chance to snap at the air with her palm and push forth a wave of energy that sent the trooper hurtling into the alley wall with a sickening crack.
“Ahhhh! Help!”
Kirie scrambled to her feet, turning towards the sound of the scream. The other Scout Trooper was still a few paces down the alley, but now he was struggling with a small figure- a child, maybe a younger teenager. He grabbed the child and faced Kirie, a blaster pistol pressed against their head.
“Surrender, or the kid gets it.”
Immediately, Kirie was running forward. She raised her hand, twisting her wrist and focusing all her will on the soldier ahead. He grunted with pain, and the blaster dropped to the group. Grunting with effort, Kirie slow and splayed both her hands in front of her, again sending out a wave of energy that sent the scout trooper soaring backwards through the air, where he struck the ground on the other side of the alley and lay unmoving.
Panting, and overcome with relief that she was alive, Kirie glanced at the child. It was a young teen, like she’d thought, a girl covered in scratches and filthy with dust and debris. Rivulets of blood ran from her ears, and her expression was slightly distant. Somehow she had survived the Imperial shelling that had levelled the block over. Then, she’d saved Kirie’s life, putting her own at risk.
Kirie looked down at the girl. “Thank you. Can you walk? We need to get you somewhere safe."
Omen put the pistol away as the soldier drew closer. He wasn't a threat atleast, that was for sure. And as he took his helmet off, it was clear what he was, a brother. Sighing, the former ARC eased his helmet off and looked at his brother down, their faces matching with the only difference being Omen's scar and fake green right eye. "Satisfy your curiosity?"
As his brother asked him to help with guiding people to shelters, he only nodded before putting his helmet on. "Send a map of the city and shelters. Then we move. We are already wasting time already,"
Like a mechanical swivel, the barrel of his blaster found itself over the white-feathered bird and fired - a crimson bolt shot out across the street, unburdened by the chaos that surrounded it. His helmeted head tilted to the side and all caution seemed to have left him as Veno assumed a far more casual stance.
"Come on, little bird." The Imperial moved carelessly with haste.
He squeezed on the trigger in a similar manner. Bolts careening towards the cover and over it. All until he could reach it and peer over.
Every fiber of Korvan's being hurt. The words that came from his former student, the emotions that burst forth in waves from the Imperial Knight that he had once loved like a son. What had driven him to this? Surely it could not have truly been his failing, there had to have been more - the dark side, the Empire, someone had found him, and pulled him away. Pushed him into the depths of his emotions and dragged out a monster instead of the boy that Korvan had once known.
But there it was, there was the confession, the accusation from Rakaan himself. It wasn't about the Jedi, It wasn't about the Empire. It was him.
It was Korvan.
He had truly failed Rakaan, he should not have listened to the council. In this he should have defied them, he should have seen that Rakaan needed help long before his mission. There was so much that Korvan could have done, should have done better, that he could have tried to do to make sure that his apprentice never fell to this level. And yet, here they were. He could not go back and change what had happened, he could not go back and undo his own actions, he simply had to live with the results of them. He had to face the spectre of his student, the ghost of his past.
Rakaan activated his blade finally, leaping toward him - Korvan was forced to respond, his saber flew to his hand and the blue blade filled the air with a hum before it clashed with Rakaan's own. For all he had done, all that he had become, he had not changed - Korvan felt into a fluid defence as he always had, he made no moves to counter, no moves to strike back against his former student. Only to defend.
Faster than ever before, his white blade shifted back and forth as it threatened to cleave Korvan in two. It struck wildly off of the blue saber as much as it had the walls that surrounded them both. Careless as to what else it crashed into, as fractured bits of the wall darted around alongside the sparks from their duel. But now, his strikes had become heavier with force and fire behind them. Rakaan was not the boy that Korvan had trained and trained with, but the man those sessions had created.
The man that Korvan had made him into.
"Why?" He bitterly asked as their lightsabers locked and struggled against one another, "Tell me why you left me to die."
He remembered the fall, all that had happened and all that had led him down this road. This dark road. Full of anger, hate, suffering. He was tired. Tired of the poisoned mind that ensured this was his destination. He could see it, feel it, realise it. The Empire was not his home, of that much Rakaan had known, but to be here and now... the chance to surrender himself to the goodness in his heart - gone, and all Rakaan could see was red; feel the wrath that burned inside him.
But he still wished to know why. If there ever was one, whatever the situation had been. Frightened as to whether the darkness that clouded his mind had convinced him of a reality other than his own. Unsure as to what was worse, the truth or the one he believed in.
It was with Rakaan's full might that he shoved forwards in an effort to break their lock and send his former master onto the backfoot. He marched forwards and lashed out with the Force, his idle hand reached for the armour he once wore and sent it hurling towards Korvan.
FIRST TODHUSARS REGIMENT
FIRST ANAXSI FREE BRIGADE
Back on the battlefield, after so much time spent on Yinchorr, assuming security missions and training endless batches of clone troopers drawn from mysterious sources. The wounds suffered on Dromund Kaas, this time ago, still ached sometimes, and he knew he was truly rusty. But, again, here he was, ready to give his friend Nukth a hand in the coming mess that was now almost a certainty. The Empire and the Alliance trading blows on a neutral world? This was unheard of. Sure, Kuat had been a way to warm things up, but it had been mainly a standstill. Now? New Alderaan was different.
The world was looking like a utopia out of some Senator's mind. Jerec did not like it at all and would be glad to reduce the town to rubble. However, it was not to be. The First had been deployed to take control of various facilities, and the thrust east would mean urban warfare against the Alliance. It was like back on Dromund Kaas, except, that time, the Alliance was not there to watch their backs.
With a painful sigh, Jerec realised how bad things would go if this skirmish on New Alderaan resulted in open warfare throughout the galaxy. With the Alliance so beaten by the Maw, it could be a swift campaign. But he also knew they would put up a fight: he did not expect to see Anaxes in the first year of the war if war there had to be. In fact, he did not really wish for war. Anaxes liberated? Of course. But to fight on, ceaselessly, had already proven too painful. His resolve was not as sharp as always. He was tiring. He knew, one day, he would have to give up. But not today.
"Let's move, squad, we've got a way to go"
Without a word, the TodHusars began to climb. Yularen's plan was perfectly simple. While the bulk of the Imperial Army was concentrating forces outside New Aldera in hopes of breaking the Alliance and getting into the capital, his company would get atop the buildings of the city and progress from roof to roof. Whether Nukth followed this strategy remained to be seen, but he was confident enough, one way or another, he would be able to support him.
As the soldiers got to the top, Jerec took a minute to reorganise his forces and get a clear picture of the battlefield: the 501st was rushing to the interior of the city, while the 908th was crossing blades with advances elements of the GADF. If Nines redirected his thrust to the centre of the battlefield, they would threaten a number of enemies into encirclement, and maybe cut them off from their own lines. Frantically, he took his datapad out and drafted some suggestions, then uploaded them to his HUD, and made sure they got to the relevant commanders: Braxis, Vandron and Nines would probably benefit from his perspective of the battle.
In order to communicate with the forces on the ground, Yularen had ordered his long-range comm unit to stay ready, and he intended to use them now. In a few words, he explained what he expected from them, before opening radio comms to Nukth. Once his fellow Captain was aware of the situation and plan, he could shift his attention elsewhere.
"Banshee-actual, this is Deluge-actual, calling to deliver sitrep. The First is atop the main buildings, east of the city. Excellent vantage point; I've left one of my officers and the main radio group to serve as observers: they'll coordinate Vandron's offensive on the centre. What's your position?"
Waiting for an answer, he turned to the rest of the group, and then picked up the comm to his superior.
"General Vandron, this is Captain Yularen. My unit has successfully been inserted atop the easternmost skyscrapers on the battlefield. My Brigade already has a defined objective, but I am leaving a radio group behind to make sure our vantage point stays used. These men will coordinate aerial raids if needed and will provide you with another perspective of the battlefield. I let them do their job, though we already have noticed Alliance troops that we could cut off if the 908th elements redirected their effort toward the centre of the enemy lines. Good luck, General."
Dropping the comm, Jerec took his company with him, and went to their target, from ceiling to ceiling.
The parry was expected, Simon was too experienced a swordsman to have the battle end this early. Djem So was a style that relied on punishing counterattacks, but again, instead of contesting the parry, he rolled with it, using the momentum to move him backwards, creating distance between the two duelists. Even as Simon lunged towards him, he was backing up, the deadly blade reaching him, if only barely.
The smell of burning fabric permeated the aid as the saber burned through his shirt and touched flesh, skin blistered and was scorched red raw and burned by the narrow brush of deadly plasma against skin. His talisman prevented a fatal impalement of his side. Instead leaving him with a nasty welt in exchange. But as a testament to the Jedi’s will, he did not so much as flinch as pain wracked through his side.
"Give me dreamers." He murmured back, barely audible over the din of the battle raging around them. The unstoppable Iron Tide slowly pushing the rebels back further and further into the hotel, but giving the two Force Sensitives space to have their battle, neither side wanting to get anywhere near such deadly combatants or attract their attention.
"Give me those who see what the Galaxy could be. Not what it is."
Their fight was one beyond mortal men. A clash of ideals as much as it was one of blades. Was the Alliance flawed? Certainly. Did the Jedi have old shames to their name? Absolutely. Could both strive to better themselves? Without a doubt.
He served the Force above all else, more than he served nations, than he did Orders of like minded figures. The Jedi were simply those who held similar ideals to himself, many of them were his friends and comrades who shed blood beside him. The Alliance was a flawed system that those with power could exploit, yes, but it offered hope to so many more.
Idly his thoughts drifted to Eva Betrik
, one of the many who he knew had come from the Sith Empire after it crumbled. Who had built a new life for themselves. Who managed to do so because he still believed in these lofty ideals. Hope, compassion, the ability to change for the better.
Things that Simon had given up on.
"You once believed in them. They were not lies then." Was his calm reply, before lashing out with his own counter, saber flashing at the extended blade from the thrust. Not at the hand that held it, but the emiiter proper, arcing out in an attempt to slice open the sword itself with the Sun Djem technique, or give himself some breathing room as he considered his next move and how to best end this altercation before more lives were lost.
CAPTAIN OF TORTUGA COMPANY 222ND NOVA CORPS| 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
The song steel cut through the air, its trajectory clear. Osarla, who wasn't the speediest of souls, had little time to adjust the downward stab of her elbow. Instead, she yanked the foot she had in her hold forward and to the side. It didn't prevent the sword's damage, it just mitigated the impact against the unprotected joint. Instead of cutting her arm clear through, it skewered through a layer of skin and drew a good measure of blood and an outcry of pain from the Captain.
She took a big, stsaggered step back and, through the delirium of adrenaline and pain, focused her intent on dragging Saul in her hold forward while she sorted out her other arm's situation. What she came up with prioritized disabling him rather than murdering him.
For now, he was still misled. Maybe not entirely gone.
Her elbow arced up, blue blade growling and snapping through the air a short distance to line up with his throat. It did not cut; it did not move from the inches it would need to sear through flesh. Osarla's restraint was stronger than it had been in her younger days.
The bird took the shot right in the chest, and flopped over beside Auteme, beginning to dissolve as the Force-strands that it was made of faded to nothing.
Right. Psychopath murderer.
If she'd been caught by a normal patrol, she might've been able to 'get captured' and then escape once they'd brought her closer to her destination. This particular menacing armored fellow wasn't going to give her that kind of hospitality. Nor was he going to give her much time.
Her hand went to the wall she was at. A deep breath, closed eyes, found focus -- she could see the threads, invisible bonds that held it all together. And there, a weak link, a strand holding what was left of her cover together. Another deep breath, and she struck it, enhancing her blow with the Force. With a low boom the wall and rubble exploded, instantly creating a large dust cloud and a shower of pebbles.
Her other hand went to the little bird's corpse, grabbing its threads and recycling them. A nigh-invisible shadow shot across the ground, sliding into the path of her assailant and forming a grey-brown mat. She started to move, dashing as quietly as she could through the dust, but as soon as she felt pressure on the mat she'd pull her hand back, pulling it from under her attacker to knock him down.
A L I N T I S A R THE BLACK KNIGHT Sahar stepped in calmly after him, her imposing figure and black cape blocking out much of the sunlight that seeped through the jagged hole that the Padawan had violently made in the glass with his body. The glass and debris beneath her boots crunched with each slow and forceful step as she edged nearer to him with a soft malicious smirk on her face.
But that smirk soon turned to annoyance as she felt him push shards from the floor and directly at her; she flung a hand up to deflect it back at him barely in time as a fragment ripped past and embedded itself deep in her shoulder blade. Sahar savagely growled, putting a gloved hand to the shard in her shoulder and examining it to see blood. She looked back up at the Padawan with a scowl, yanking the shard out and advancing quickly on him. She grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up and pinning his hand to the wall with the very same jagged glass piece that had made her bleed.
"You've been fun."
She smiled with gritted teeth; hand fixed around the boy's jaw as she stared him directly in the eye. But something caught the Jedi's attention, and Sahar's stare followed suit; she turned her gaze towards a lone photo by the debris. Her eyes widened in interest as she pulled away and left the Padawan to slump in agony.
"Hmmph."
Sahar picked up the photo, cradling it in her gloved hands as she looked at the lovers in embrace. A sweet nostalgic memory caught in drawing, something she was not a stranger to in knowledge and experience. She sighed to herself, a momentary lapse in time before the old memories became erased by the present moment. Sahar looked up, and the forlorn expression on her face turned to one of abject pity.
"Young lovers, ever so sweet and hopeful, tragic still that you'd let her live with the knowledge her Jedi could return in a metal coffin or worse."
Sahar paused for dramatic effect.
"Return a broken man."
She paced to and from, both taunting the Jedi and musing on the hopeless reality of love in war.
"I don't want you to die, Jedi; that'd be too easy and too abrupt, rather I want you to leave here broken, realise the folly of your actions and be a warning to the rest of your kind."
Sahar stopped pacing, standing still and gazing at the Jedi before moving so she was mere inches from his bloodied and battered face. She softly pulled her saber from it's belt, caressing the iron hilt as she flicked it to life and the grey blade illuminated both hers and the Jedi's face.
"You'll learn, in time."
And with that she stepped back and brought the saber crashing down on the boys dueling arm, cleanly severing it from the elbow down as the limb crashed to the ground. Sahar scooped up the boys saber and strutted towards the hole in the shop, cape fluttering behind her as the distant blaster fire and sounds of soldiers grew nearer.
Green streaks fired across Ari's bow as the TIE Fighters moved in on her, one lucky blast bouncing off her shield. "You want to play then? Fine. Keeper, shields to double rear." Discarding any pretext of stealth she firewalled the throttle to full and pulled into an extremely tight turn, stutter-firing waves of phased-pulse cannon shots at the incoming TIE Fighters. She flipped on her broadcomms and fingered the panel until it was broadcasting to her squadron's encrypted freq, "Nemesis, Say goodbye to your dance partners and form up on me. K-Flight. I want each of you to line up attack runs on the Onagers - Shield Saturation Pattern 1-Delta. First on my mark." Nemesis Squadron broke off of their dogfights and moved at top speed towards where Ari was engaged. Arming the ordnance launcher, she blipped a signal to the first K-wing.
With Ari focused on fighting off the incoming TIEs, Keeper watched the tactical display as one of the K-wings dove towards the plane of battle, their SLAM Drives fully active. As soon as it reached engagement range it fired off 9 of its' 18 Plasma torpedoes at one of the Onager IIs, followed by Keeper sending a few beeps over her headset. Time to play some ball. Ari quick-fired two of the four Intruder Missiles in her launchers at the Onager's bridge. As soon as she did she dove down, skimming just meters above the ship's ventral hull, breaking off in perfect time with the expected impact of the K-wing's torpedoes.
A massive flash of green flurried across her aft portside as the Corvette started firing at her, the doubled-up shields barely holding back the first flurry of shots. Ari began to Jink Starboard and then sudddenly port as she started careening full speed towards the corvette, targeting it's point-defense turrets with quad-blasts of phased plasma cannons, the points coverging in and finally meeting at the same point once she entered 250m of the corvette, before diverging out once more in a cross pattern.
