Dominion Sunbreaker | RTL Dominion of Kazarak

[Lossa Darcuhl]

Location: Field of Umbra Actual
Equipment: Danger Jacket, Outfit, Mix and Match Harness, Concealed Blaster, Discreet Hearing Enhancer - Left Ear, Long Handled Double Lightsaber, Concealed Sling Bag
Tags: Elias Edo Nathan Bloodscrawl Mishel Westenra Mina Rhiza Dural OPEN

The coffin door opened as usual, but to her stressed mind it felt like an eternity had passed as the sound of fighting filtered into the crack before the full effect reached her ears.

Eyes shifting from the rosy pink to solid crimson as emotions rode behind the wave of sound.

Anger, so much anger. Just shy of rage. Fighting for top places was... blinking a moment as she grimaced to the words Rhiza spoke.

"It's little more than a coffin with jets on it." Her disdain for the drop pod more than clear as a blaster bolt scorched the top corner of her now open pod.

That unnamed feeling still just that as it's familiarity danced on the tip of her tongue to be identified.

She ducked low as another shot came in. Hand sliding to her side to grab the handle of her lightsaber and finding it not present. Her hand patting the spot and realizing she had switched it for the ride down after jabbing into her ribs.

A worry of it activating mid-flight present as she looked around, trying to orient.

Elias ripped his emerald-green blade to light, smacking a blaster bolt back to its sender as he shouted, “Padawan! To me!”

Her hesitation if he meant her or another cost her valuable seconds as a sound began to overtake the others.

The sizzle of air across her shoulder making her eyes widen when the smell of something burning filled her senses. Had she already been hit? Didn't feel anything, but what did getting hit feel like?

Reflex kicked in as she stood finally and let the force flow into her legs. A simple hop turning into a flinging of her form as she moved without thinking.

A string of skips and hops bringing her closer to cover as she tried to not think about the burning smell.

The Boulder hiding the emerald bladed master clear in her vision as she bent forward, trying to cut momentum while her heels dug in. Arms pushed forward to keep her balance.

Something gave way beneath her feet as she slid, her body crumbling into a roll as she thumped into the boulder with a pained grunt.

But she'd made it to cover and let her worry take over.

"I. I think. Something hit me. I think." Her frantic mood permeating the air as she scooted to sit upright and pat herself down.

The space along her shoulder first as she felt nothing out of place. The next spot searched was her face before confusion set in.

"I swear. Something. Something burned. Was burnt." Her breathing irregular as she continued to pat and found a hole in the jacket along the seam.

She couldn't help the frown, or the intrusive thought that flowed from her mouth.

"I liked this jacket." Eyes still crimson as she steadied her breathing with thar worry out of the way.

Thoughts racing as she attempted to calm herself further, focusing on the jacket for now.The unnamed emotion still dancing outside recognition.

 

[Mishel]

ARTIFICER + JEDI
RIMWARD JEDI COALITION
K A Z A R A K
[T H E M E]

FIRETEAM KRESH
​

​

On the ground, Mishel cast a glance toward the others, Elias, Rhiza, Nathan, and Lossa, and then looked forward ahead of them. "I got this," spoke Mishel matter-of-factly as she made use of her Force speed. Recalling the very training her old master Ember Farseer gave her to focus more on her speed, in what must have seemed like a streak of bright light. The Jedi Master departed the company of her compatriots leaving behind a cloud of dirt, dust, and everything else that got kicked up in her wake. Mishel drew the turret's attention and turned the turret's fire back onto itself with a telekinetic deflection. It was just the one turret, but it was enough to draw the base's attention and hopefully allow the others an easy path forward.

Mishel had been molded by the First Order's war on the Galactic Alliance, and the subsequent conquests from the Sith Empire, forged by years of violence. Born of the Force, the Tygaran, while not quite the star-destroyer-throwing levels of her biological mother. Would do what it took to keep the heat away from Fireteam Kresh, at least while she could - undoubtedly they would be spotted but by then she could push onward to elsewhere in the base. Ranger Corps, and Rescue Services were likely on the ground as well.

Open to Interaction
Elias Edo | Rhiza Dural | Lossa Darcuhl | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Westenra Mina | Shuklaar Kyrdol


​

 

[BB-4001X]

[ i can do this all day ]​

Shooters in three points.

Elevated firing positions.

He'd had the element of surprise, but his advantage was rapidly turning into disadvantage with their numbers and the triangulation of their overlapping fire. He'd taken cover, but they were already adjusting. Shots were homing in on his position, becoming more accurate with each passing second.

He calculated that he had exactly two-point-eight more seconds before they had him dead to rights.

Not enough time to calculate a strategy to deal with them all. He'd have to focus on the most immediate threat and then make it up as he went.

Pitching himself forward, the chore bot tucked into a roll, as a series of blaster bolts slammed into the wreck he'd been resting against. The rusting bulk of the Z-95 at his back ought to shield him from one of the shooting positions, but the second would be able to compensate if he didn't strafe left now. That exposed him to the third shooting position, which was closing on him even as the droid came up with the blaster carbine.

Fully automatic fire erupted as the afro-headed droid came up from the ground. The shots slamming into the lights that were aimed down at scrapyard. The eruption and sparks, along with the flying glass and debris, showered the scaffolding beneath it. He'd taken a calculated risk that it would be enough to get his attackers to react, which seemed to be paying off as the next several shots went wide.

That gave him an opening.

A three-burst shot and the droid saw one of the shooters go down.

One down, but the droid was out of time. Pitching himself to the left, the small droid narrowly avoided where several shots came from behind. The second firing position had finally caught up with him. And as he moved to adjust, he'd be entering the first's field of fire.

New strategy. Move beneath the third firing position.

His attackers had triangulated their firing positions in a way that suggested they were trying to avoid hitting one another. Perhaps that was something he could use to his advantage.

Throwing the carbine over his shoulder, the droid shifted its internal power reserve to its lower servoes, breaking into a bounding sprint that brought it to the base of the scaffolding. Leaping up from the ground, the boy reached up and grabbed the metal pipework, pulling himself up as he slung his body up into the rafters.

A series of shots slammed close by, but seemed carefully calculated. The time between shots had lengthened considerably.

It seemed they were cautious at firing on one another.

That left him precariously near the remaining shooter atop the metal framework, as the shots that were fired from above reminded him. Rolling his shoulder down, the boy swung outward. The carbine dropped, falling into his waiting hand as he allowed momentum to carry him around. Snapping the blaster up, the droid let it rip. The upper scaffolding became a shower of sparks as the blaster bolts slammed into the underside, until the bottom dropped out. A scream cut through the air, as the shooter fell through the metalwork -- swiftly silenced as his body bounced off several beams on the way down.

The carbine jammed, the chamber automatically ejecting the spent power cell.

The droid just dropped it. He wasn't carrying a third replacement for the carbine. Instead, he climbed further up. There was likely to be some confusion for at least the next several seconds before the other shooters realized that their cohorts were dead. That was time in which he could get on level ground with him.

And hopefully come up with a plan before they tried to get him in a crossfire again.

 

[Rhiza Dural]

Location: Kazarak
Objective: Finish the slavers
Tags: Elias Edo Mira Quinn Lossa Darcuhl Mishel Nathan Bloodscrawl Shuklaar Kyrdol Westenra Mina OPEN for direct interaction

Spoiler: Equipment and links

Personal Equipment

• White bladed dual phase light saber
• Electro-whip
• Riftblade
• Viper mk1 skinsuit
• Ashlan Rosary
• Energy Bolas
• throwing shuriken
• Sairenro Shuriken pistol
• Empyrean Gland
• Morðingja-class Personal Cloaking Device

Starships

• Oubliette class transport
• Sciss class stealth fighter
• Ballerina Interceptor mk ii using this for thread

“Good work, my friend,” Elias said with a grateful nod and a hard pat on her bicep.

Rhiza looked at the man, something was up and the brief physical contact between the two powerful force users made it more than apparent to her that he was battling something other than slavers today. She would not bring it up here, it was not diplomatic, nor was it her place, but she gave the man a supportive look, one tempered with an instruction that he keep his chit together for the mission.

"It's little more than a coffin with jets on it."

Rhiza laughed at this, it wasn't far of the mark, but the last time she saw a group walk out of a coffin it was a very different situation.

As Mishel surged forwards and distracted the turret, Rhiza too headed forwards, with a thought, she activated her personal cloaking device. She it was still possible to work out the location of the Jedi Spectre from the sporadic deflection of blaster bolts as she invisibly defended those that were behind her from incoming shots. She crossed the courtyard to where a line of defenders had taken cover in order to lay down fire. She lept high into the air, deactivating her cloak as she engaged and flickering her saber left and right. The white glow from her blade was the last thing this small group of mercenaries would see as the master sword woman cut them down in their boots.

Then, only one stood, there were plenty of other groups of soldiers around still fighting but this man, in his sergeants uniform was hers. He had dropped his blaster and was now desperately fumbling for his comm. "Don't mind me, retrieve your communicator if you wish." the beautiful woman purred as she massaged his force presence with her own. "Call you superiors, they should open the main gates and send out reinforcements."

The guard did not notice it happen, the woman moved with too much grace and had enraptured him with her guile, but the back of her hand stroked his cheek as he lost his will and followed her suggestion to the letter. The other soldiers would see the main gate creaking open, surely there would be reinforcements coming out to deal with, but the open portal would be much easier for the attackers to breach than the imposing wall. Her last act was to put the man into a deep sleep, he was unarmed, killing him would be against the light, she then turned and ran towards the new opening with her saber in hand.

 

[Vad Logan]

The Generous Fox rocked from sporadic glancing shots but they were out of the hot zone. For the most part. The corvette zig-zagged through the vacuum using its higher mobility to remain a difficult target for the slaver gunners. The coalition fleet was making consistent progress. Opposition ships were simply no match for the combined power of the RTL and its allies. It was comforting but unfortunately there was still a big problem. The clock.

As long as the Eclipe’s battleship Shadow’s Hand remained operational the troops on the ground couldn’t be supported from orbit. To make it worse, Eclipse had reinforcements on the way. This would only delay the allies even longer. Time was not on their side.

"Good shooting, Vad," Roth said across the comm. "We're coming in on your tail to duck into the dead zone you created. Heavy payload incoming."

“Affirmative Colonel, music to my ears,” Vad sent back. “Drinks on me when we make it out of this one.”

The crew watched as the Wild Knights’ fighter expertly maneuvered around strings of AA fire erupting from the frigate and its escort ships.

“Captain, another transmission coming through,” the comm officer reported.

“Put ‘em through.”

"Welcome to the party Captain Logan. Name's Kurayami Bloodborn, formerly a captain in too many kriffing factions to count. Should be pingin' n your IFF as 'Yellow 13.' Hope your hunt is successful. Force be with you. Bloodborn out."

“We read you, Yellow 13. We’ll keep those fighters off your back. Give ‘em hell,” Logan responded in turn. The spirits on the bridge noticeably lifted. They could all see on the tactical observers that the gold trimmed fighter charged headfirst into an attack run against a capital ship and its fighter escort. It pulled stunts that would make a normal pilot blackout behind the controls.

“Another force-user,” Vad remarked. “We really are blessed today.”

“Captain, bogies incoming. Distance Seven Seven,” an officer shouted as the warning chimes started up once again.

Logan returned his focus to the front just as two enemy fighters strafed the Fox. Green bolts plinked on the ship’s shields. Coming in behind the fighters were two Braha’tok-class gunships. They split formation on their approach intending to sandwich the rangers between their guns.

“Dive! Dive!” Vad shouted to the helmsman. “Fox Squadron, keep those fighters off us.”

They couldn’t waste any batteries on the enemy escorts, every turret would be needed to engage the gunships. The Fox lurched forward and down in an attempt to prevent a surround. The corvette was fast but the lighter gunships weren’t letting their prey escape so easily. They followed suit, matching the Fox’s descent and maintaining formation.

“Gunners, split your targets. Open fire.” Logan ordered. The Fox’s guns opened up in sync with the enemy. All ships traded shots with the Fox taking the worst of it. In this position the shields couldn’t be diverted to protect either side.

“Increase speed. Take us out of this broadside. Force them to turn.”

“Throttle at eighty percent,” the ship’s computer acknowledged. The blaster turrets rotated in kind, following the trajectory of the vessels as they moved. As the Fox passed the two gunships started their turns.

“Shield power to stern. They’re going to hit us hard when they reach ninety degrees.”

The slavers reacted as predicted. When their batteries lit up they hit the rear of the Fox with a combined turbolaser salvo followed by a cascade of missiles. The shields held until the penultimate missile connected, breaking the deflector barrier long enough for the final projectile to impact one of the Fox’s propulsion columns.

“Shields back up. Engine four is critical.” a cadet yelled over the rumble of more glancing rounds.

“Shut it down. This old girl still has plenty of speed left in her,” Logan ordered. Fox Squadron buzzed past the bridge window in hot pursuit of two Eclipse fighters. Vad was in a tough spot. His mind raced for a solution.

“All batteries, focus all fire on the target I’m marking on your screens now,” Vad transmitted while punching in commands on a console. “They have to chase us. We’ll break their formation and make this a fair fight.”

“Aye Sir,” a gravelly voice responded through a half-static comm from the battle stations.

“All friendlies in the area, we’ve got some bandits on our six. Could use some support,” Logan transmitted on the coalition frequency. He wasn’t used to calling for help. He was usually the one who answered distress calls, not the one who made them. As much as it pained him there wasn’t another option. Time was running short and this blockade needed to be broken.

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

"Never mind!" Nathan said as Mishel took care of the turret, batting away more swarms of blaster bolts. He was getting more better and better at redirecting multiple bolts back on their source before they could land in their position, Dark Blue blade swinging about with focus and purpose.

A rocket was fired in his direction and he teleported it towards the ground, into an empty crater.

Nathan focused on nothing but re-directing the blaster bolts away from his allies. He began to drawn more and more fire upon himself, blade manipulated around his body to turn aside lancing red streaks of death. Slavers started to drop as their own bolts hit them Lynda ( Westenra Mina ) taking advantage and becoming a blur, body twisting and flipping to break legs arms, parts of ribcages.

Nathan switched to using Niman, losing some of his ability to redirect the bolts, and focused on a pair of the slavers aiming blaster Cannons at him.

He reached into the minds of the two, stunning them with the Force, teleporting to their location, cutting their weapons in half and then knocking them the feth out before teleporting back to Elias Edo 's location to keep covering him and the others, sticking close to wherever they chose to move. He kept an eye on Lynda. So far, she was doing her best to distract the slavers, and had sustained multiple wounds to her torso, bleeding glowing red blood, but she still fought brutally, smashing her staff into weapons and jaws...

Kurayami Bloodborn

Shuklaar Kyrdol

Lossa Darcuhl

Mira Quinn

Rhiza Dural

 

[Elias Edo]

​

Tags: Lossa Darcuhl | Mishel | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Saram Kote | Westenra Mina
Objective 2: Umbra Actual
Assaulting the Eclipse on KAZARAK...

“Yes, Sir!” the troops called out, but Nathan Bloodscrawl seemed to have a different plan.

"Master Edo! I think I can take out that nest, if you want!"

Elias’ face broke into a determined grin. He pointed off to the nest, wheels spinning in his head as he contemplated how to get Nathan up there. He was aware of the man’s unusual gift, but lacked any knowledge of how it worked; How far could Nathan teleport, and how fast could he return? Stranding a man atop the fortress walls wasn’t a maneuver he was comfortable with. Luckily (or, perhaps dissentiently), Mishel burst forward in an unexpected bid for the gunner. In a few moments time, it was out of commission, drawing reinforcements from other vantage points along the perimeter. Elias shrugged, looking from Nathan to Lossa Darcuhl as she ducked into cover.

“We need to get behind those walls!” Elias yelled over the blasterfire. He peaked from behind the rubble long enough to size up the defenses. A wayward bolt flung his way, deflected off toward the sky by his blade. He slid back down, looking to the others.

“Mishel took down the gunner, stars-damn that madwoman. And Rhiza is somewhere inside, she followed suit. Whether you go with them or stay, someone needs to guide these men into the complex.” He made it clear that he was willing to lead the advance, welcoming any support and excusing them otherwise should they break for the opening Rhiza Dural carved into the courtyard.

Once their maneuvers were set, Elias patched into Fireteam Junda’s comms and greenlit the gunships.

“This is Master Edo! We need a grand entrance, 310 degrees, 20 meters northwest of my position. Knock that wall down!” He held position behind the rubble, awaiting the sight of Mandalorian cavalry to roll out a red carpet entrance for the League.

​

 

[Mishel]

ARTIFICER + JEDI
RIMWARD JEDI COALITION
K A Z A R A K
[T H E M E]

FIRETEAM KRESH
​

​

Inside the base, Mishel smirked, a target-rich environment as an old stormtrooper once said. Concentrating on the fire building her hands she launched forth fireballs toward groups of Eclipse mercs heading toward her. Lighting up the night with an array of orange and red-hued fireballs, heading directly toward another group of mercs. The Tygaran's lightsaber thrummed as it cut across a guard, and sparks flew as it cut through a blaster rifle. Mishel heard briefly on comms the plan of attack, and replied accordingly for Elias to hear, "I can help keep them occupied, between everyone here, we should get enough racket to draw out the base commander."

The Eclipse had, had a lovely setup - but it was going to end today. The RJC and those from the Rimward Trade League were here to be sure of that. A large kinetic push sent mercenaries tumbling over themselves and into equipment and walls. Those who managed to get close would find themselves silenced by Mishel's lightsaber. Diverting another turret's power onto itself, the Jedi Master continued to fight her way through the mercenaries. Recalling the numerous times she had fought in more dire circumstances. Mishel utilized the wisdom gained in those situations here as it perhaps even seemed effortless. As she created a wall of fire to keep several other mercenaries at bay.

Open to Interaction
Elias Edo | Rhiza Dural | Lossa Darcuhl | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Westenra Mina | Saram Kote


​

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE
K A Z A R A K
[ T H E M E ]

​

TASK FORCE BOUQUET​
Spoiler: Bouquet List. The Rae Sloane The Tessala Corvae The Lanzora Garan The Tishra Kandia The Terisa Kerrill The Havina Vonreg The Garmen Naadra The Rella Sol The Seawolf The Serpent The Sparrow The Storm The Sunbreaker The Strongbow The Dagger The Defender The Duchess The Dragon The Diomede The Daring The Dauntless The Danae

"Excellent work, Mr. Bloodborn, I believe a few rookie pilots from Titan Squadron are joining you, show the ropes, will you?" Ariel both complimented and ordered, she wanted to be sure her pilots were well-trained. It wasn't too long, at least for Ariel, until she noticed a blip not recognized initially by her sensors. Further reading indicated Mr. Logan, which then gave room for the woman to relax. If for a little while as the fleet pressed onward, landing shots on various Eclipse ships. The former Grand Moff sat in the command chair, watching as verdant hues cut across the void finding purchase on their targets. Ariel contemplated her mother, Fiolette Yvarro (née Fortan) who had been a Grand Admiral for the First Order and later Lord Admiral for the Sith Empire as Fiolette Raaf. The woman Ariel grew up with was a formidable one and who was a no-nonsense naval strategist. Silver-haired and someone to be reckoned with but then Ariel rarely saw her, but still she saw her.

Then sometime after the Omega Crisis, something changed. Fiolette's own mortality snapped something within the older woman, and as Ariel contemplated, she tried to recall the old pictures of her mother. The ones from the woman's early days, how regal and elegant she was in her uniforms. Back when Sith and Imperial governments alike were a dime a dozen, long before Ariel was even thought of. When her mother was still earning a name for herself and learning from the likes of Cyrus Tregessar and even Ayden Cater the GOAT himself, although... Ariel supposed that her mother would consider Cyrus, the GOAT. A sigh escaped Ariel as she rose from her seat, and took a small cup of tea offered by one of the protocol droids. Fiolette sought out unnatural methods to avail herself of this mortality. First with a group of Ren Alchemist, then with her now ex-wife Taeli Raaf and later her girlfriend another powerful Sith woman, Kassandra Distorith.

Ariel held some disdain for Taeli, it was after all, with Taeli's influence that Fiolette became more involved with the Force and the darkside as a whole. Then again, without Taeli, Fiolette may have never returned for Ariel and her sisters. As the destruction of the Eclipse fleet loomed around the void. The Dosuunian-raised Galidraani woman paced the command center. Her mother, was the fiery redhead that had become something of an infamous person among certain parties. Truly transformed herself reversing her own age back and working on her own form. She had become someone else entirely, someone that neither Ariel nor the rest of her family knew. She hated it, all of it, there had been no real reason for Fiolette to change, not at all. With a scoff, Ariel recalled that she and her sisters had been left with their cousin, a woman who absolutely knew little about children. Thankfully for her sisters, they were old enough to be sent off and did not require as much attention. Ariel however did require attention, and as she nursed her cup of tea she frowned. Her cousin, did as much as she could with what she had, but she wasn't mother.

Recalling her own path toward Grand Moff, Ariel set her cup of tea down and sent it back with the droid. A show of gratitude toward the droid, whilst she continued to pace the command center. Now her mother was gone, a price to paid for bringing back her beloved cousin from the dead. Something that should not have been done given both were non-force sensitives, and yet with the help of Sith they broke the rules. Another sigh, this one deliberate as she looked out her viewport to see the Eclipse ships amid destructive explosions. The brunette chewed on the inside of her lip Ariel knew that this would not have happened if an Empire, if the First Order had lived just enough.

Removing her cardigan sweater, Ariel turned toward the small ready room that loomed beyond. Closing the distance she crossed the threshold and took a moment to search the ready room for anything she could use. Something to help her in this battle, or at the very least feel part of the commander. As sweet as the Rimward Trade League was with their wholesome ideals, such ideals did not survive in the dead of night when slaver scum arrived. Recalling the like-minded individual in Redarr Syko from Kirdo, Ariel relaxed her stance and focused on the fight at hand. Order must prevail or else chaos such as these Eclipse slavers will continue to reign supreme.

Back onto the command center, now not only dressed for the occasion but feeling the part. Ariel turned and spoke to the Victorian Imperial fleet and began her orders, "give them no quarter, I want that Lucrehulk in so many pieces that no salvager will have want for it."

Kurayami Bloodborn | Roth Tillian | Vad Logan​

 

[Roth Tillian]

Ariel Yvarro Kurayami Bloodborn Vad Logan
​

"Always appreciate free rounds, Logan," Roth replied in the comm, gesturing to his co-pilots. They ducked back into their seats and tightened the harnesses, studying their readouts ahead of them. "Heavy ordinance arriving in thirty seconds. That should sever the main power conduit between the reactor and the engines."

The fire from Yavarro's fleet intensified drastically. Far more than was even necessary and he shoved the assault ship down.

"Feth. Someone get them to chill their fire before they shoot us down."

"Unless we can return the favor," Roth's co-pilot grumbled.

"Cut the chatter- focus on the conduit reactor," Roth replied instantly, eyes narrowed as he watched the massive ship appear ahead of him. "Get the Cometeers ready to come in behind us."

They were a newly formed unit, volunteers mostly from deep space industries. Roughnecks was what others called them and that was apt. Miners, salvagers, prospectors, scrappers. Big, burly folks with more stubbornness than a Svivreni, more skills than the typical spacer, and a love of the brawl. Exactly the type of people you'd want to have storming enemy ships and space stations.

The sensors glowed and Roth nodded.

"Conduit identified," the comms officer said, glancing over his shoulder. "Identifying it as the primary target."

"Weapons primed."

Roth nodded and nudged the yoke in a different direction, slewing in at an angle. "Beginning attack run."

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan nodded to Elias Edo .

"I'll help our people get inside." he replied.

Nathan broke into a run, deflecting various bolts sent his way, teleporting rockets aimed at the various allies gunships swinging in to level the wall back upon their sources from above. The tact of teleporting had become vastly easier in of itself for him since Exegol, like he had crossed some sort of threshold.

He vanished and reappeared behind a Slaver armed with a flame thrower, smacking him with the dark blue blade on its Non Lethal settings and knocking him out cold, teleporting into a crowd charging into Edo's position.

His blade swung like a baseball bat, smacking into faces and ribcages, each falling in succession, shifting his posture to simply allow the bolts to miss him as he attacked Slavers repeatedly every time they tried to muster a counter attack, harrasing every group of slavers that attempted to get near the gouges to the wall Rhiza Dural and Mishel carved.

As Nathan fought, more League soldiers began to advance, taking more and more positions due to his efforts, though they made sure to hang back from the wall itself until the gunships did their work. He made sure to keep an eye on where Edo was, teleporting to a sniper that had been about to take aim at Elias and Lossa Darcuhl , spotted Lynda ( Westenra Mina ) neck lifting a slaver and hurling him into another group, watching a shotgun blast tear open her chest and hurl her back...only for her to rise, eerie metallic squeals escaping her throat as she scrambled on all fours towards the panicked slaver that had shot her, leaking glowing red blood that caught fire as it hit the ground, as she tackled him, pummeled the living chit out of him but didn't kill.

Nathan was shot at from all sides, still using Form Six to help turn aside bolts and attack with the Force at the same time, teleporting behind the most skilled shooters and knocking them out, clearing up the path for whatever else Edo might want to try or order.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

It seemed that Captain Logan had gotten himself into quite a nasty position indeed. The gunships chasing him weren't the fastest or the most well armed, but when stuck between two hammering at your shields it certainly wasn't a good place to hang out too long, especially with fighter support as well. Then the Fox lost one of its engines, given it didn't seem too terribly impacted by the loss and was still up and fighting. There was a squadron that buzzed by to handle some of the fighters it seemed and overall the situation didn't appear overly dire.

The main objective still remained, and in the end that was why they were all here. To bring that thing down. It was the flagship in the blockade and if it could be brought low the rest would be far less of an issue in comparison. Not an east fight, but not nearly on the level of braking the hull of that beast. Nodding as he took a deep breath he vectored towards the underside of the core ship. Right about this time he received the transmission from Ariel, well chit, now he had to train nuggets. Hopefully these guys had more that a few hours in the sims. "Roger that, Ms. Yvarro. I'll bring 'em back alive."
Switching comms frequencies to that of the squadron he directed them to his position leaving them with a quick message before switching back to open channels. "Form up on me Titan, stick close and you might make it home alive. There are no guarantees here, we are going into the hornets nest watch your fire and cover each other. Bloodborn out." With that he pulled up and to the left, abandoning his former attack run against the battleship to lead Titan squad's rookies in the basics and more advanced tactics of dogfighting by getting right into it against multiple hostiles. He could easily pull aggro from the groups and let the nuggets get the kills issue would be managing to do that while also keeping them alive at the same time. Time to find out just how quickly they picked up on this stuff.

Ariel Yvarro | Roth Tillian | Vad Logan ​

 

[BB-4001X]

[ tiny glowing screens ]​

The droid sprang upward.

Grabbing hold of the i-beam overhead, the chore bot slung itself up onto the scaffolding that ran along the length of the stadium style lighting that illuminated the scrapyard.

Blaster bolts struck nearby, sparks raining down on the small, afro-headed droid as he scanned the perimeter to adjust for a new strategy. Two shooting positions remaining. And his remaining weapons were short-range. So he'd need to close the gap.

A hand flew to the holster tucked under his arm. Pressing his thumb against the back of the Briletto, the boy charged the blaster as he drew it. Keeping his head low, the droid broke into a sprint. Weaving in between i-beams and rafters, the chore bot managed to avoid the hail of blaster fire, even as the end of the scaffolding was rushing toward him.

Increasing power to his servoes, the small droid leapt up into the air. Sailing in an arc over toward where another pair of shooters were positioned, the droid came down with a kick aimed to land square in the man's chest. The blaster shot came after. Headshot. The shooter reeled back from both impacts, careening over the side of the raised platform, even as the droid pushed off.

Tucking into a backflip, his processors were already triangulating the next shot. Twisting in mid-air, the droid fired off a second shot. A red mist appeared, as the other shooter went down.

He landed on the left foot. Pivoting, he started to run the next set of calculations...

...a blaster bolt ripped into his shoulder, the impact staggering him back a step.

The droid grimaced. His left arm went limp. The connections to the control circuits severed.

Pitching himself backward, the droid narrowly avoided a follow-up shot aimed at his head. Instead, he landed flat on his back. Two shots were squeezed out of the blaster pistol, but the droid wasn't actually aiming at anything. A calculated measure that would hopefully be close enough to prompt the shooters to seek cover. And buy him some time.

Briletto PPK power cells only packed six shots at lethal intensity. That left him two remaining before he'd have to switch to his hold-out. And there were still two shooters remaining.

Raising his legs up, the droid swung them out, using the weight to propel him up from the metal grating. He came up in a shooter's pose, immediately snapping into motion even as he scanned for a target.

He had a bead. Pistol raised as the droid sighted in his...

Chit.

He squeezed the trigger, but the shot went wide as the same moment the droid dropped and rolled to avoid a sudden burst of automatic blaster fire.

Decoy. These last two shooters knew how to work as a team.

New strategy. Which was basically the old strategy. Run and buy time to come up with a better plan.

Pitching himself to one side, the droid sailed from off of the scaffolding, dropping to the scrapyard below. In a perfect world, he'd have grabbed on to the scaffolding to swing himself into a better trajectory. As it was, a fall from this height had a significant risk of damage. But his left arm was disabled and the droid wasn't prepared to let go of the blaster pistol he was holding in the other.

Reorienting himself in mid-air, the chore bot nailed the landing in roll that absorbed as much of the impact as he could with that much force. A series of malfunctions lanced up through his right thigh. His hip joint was now misaligned, giving the afro-headed boy a pronounced limp as he came up from the ground to seek shelter among the trash.

One shot left in the pistol. And two professional killers lurking in the shadows.

Unfortunately for him, his second-class droid subprocessor was only too eager to supply him with the odds of surviving this.

 

[Strill Securities]

Friendly Units:

• Galaar 1-2, G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar-class Heavy Stealth Gunship
• Galaar 1-3, G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar-class Heavy Stealth Gunship

Tag(s): Elias Edo | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Westenra Mina | Lossa Darcuhl | Rhiza Dural | Mishel

Loadout​

• Missile Loadout:
  • 12x Getna-class Anti-Armor Brilliant Missile (4 remaining, 8 expended)
  • 8x Tra'beviiin-class Brilliant Missile
  • 4x Ruu'y'asa-class Anti-Sensor Missile (expended)

Rav could see the IFF markers on the pods dropping down. That was their cue to kick into high gear. Targeting from Galaar 1-2 and 1-3 popped up on her HUD as the other two gunships locked onto the AA positions with their full complement of Ruu'y'asa anti=sensor missiles. Rav checked her own targeting display, hers were showing a strong lock as well. That was the nice thing about engaging static AA positions, they didn't zip around trying to shoot at you from a number of different positions. Rav barely registered her thumb coming down on the thumb switch, or her gunship vibrate slightly as it magnetically hot launched four missiles at the four AA positions.

Twelve targets winked off the tactical display about the same time as twelve explosions mushroomed in the distance. Nothing like an artificial baradium sunrise to kick off an operation. "1-1 to 1-2 and 1-3, watch the friendly infantry, they're not all going to be having friendly IFFs. Let's try not to have another Rodia, leave the infantry to them." Two calls of "oya" was her response. The three gunships accelerated to attack speed, loosing a quartet of Getna armor-piercing tandem charge warheads at a trio of turbolaser sights that had been overlooking the pod's projected landing zone.

Streams of energy torpedo sheathed high explosive incendiary armor piercing rounds hosed somewhat more exposed turret positions as the pods started landing. The icon for friendly force users as well as icons for friendly medium and light infantry began popping up on the tactical map as the pod doors began popping open. Used to the pods being dispatched with a Cabur sentry turret, Rav was a little confused not to see those show up on the tac map as well but dismissed it. Whatever the reason was, it was above her paygrade.

Predictably, the jetii through themselves into the fray almost immediately. All three gunships ceased firing almost immediately. Not much could be down now without risking hitting the Jedi in the friendly fire. No one wanted to take a chance, especially since most of them weren't even transmitting IFFs. It wasn't life or death, not for them, and none of the pilots nor crews were willing to lose their career over potentially helping some overszealous Jetii.

Rav heard Saram's call over the comms and amidst exchanging an amused look with her co-pilot, hit the transmit button, "It's just us up here Davaab 6, no one showed up. You need fire support, call it in."

"It's pretty quiet down here, Galaar 1-1, it's more work making sure not to hit our own people as they move in than it is hitting these di'kute," replied Saram. Rav couldn't help but laugh. That was the way it usually was with Jetii. This wasn't new to either of them, but it did help to complain about it.

"Didn't your vod send you some of that nice tihaar? Maybe it's time to open a bottle after this?" asked Rav as she brought the gunship around, just in case someone felt particularly inspired to call in a target. She very much doubted it, in her experience, most Jetii seemed to not remember that had things like air support, or a whole squad of elite rammikade right there to help them.

"I'll make it two, Rav," chuckled Saram mirthlessly, and with that, the channel went dead. The comms came to life once more, however, this time it was a Jetii Master named Edo, and was calling in a fire mission, and better than she expected any Jedi to be able to.

“This is Master Edo! We need a grand entrance, 310 degrees, 20 meters northwest of my position. Knock that wall down!”

"Affirmative Master Jedi, standby, you might want to find some cover," replied Rav as she brought up the targeting interface. Just to play it safe, Rav loaded four of the remaining eight Getna-class anti-armor missiles and after verifying that there were no friendlies at risk, she brought her thumb down on the thumb button on her flight stick. The deck plate beneath her feet shook slightly as the gunship's four launchers magnetically hot launched the four missiles. The high speed missiles crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, detonating with a relatively small and brief but intense flash.

Magnifying her view with the gunship's optical systems, Rav confirmed that that there was now a large hole in the side of the armored structure. "Job done, Master Jedi. Mark your positions and we can cover your advance. And tell your friend we appreciate him teleporting rockets, but we're not exactly worried about unguided rockets at this altitude," said Rav.

 

[Vad Logan]

“Captain, bandits’ distance one five five and closing,” the metallic feminine voice of the ship’s computer spoke. The Fox had managed to keep the gap between itself and its pursuers wide enough to avoid another full power volley but the gunboats were gaining. Stray turbolaser bolts flew past the view on the bridge. Low rumbles thundered from below with each shot that connected.

Logan’s ship was designed to hunt not to be hunted. Its oversized engine block covered the fire zone of its main guns. With the enemy being behind them, they couldn’t return fire. If the crew of the Fox did nothing, they were facing certain defeat. Per his last order, the gunners were primed to shoot. They had their targets but Logan needed to get them an opening.

Vad played through scenarios in his mind. The heavy corvette couldn’t outrun them. Couldn’t beat them on a turn. He could outgun them but only if they were in front of him. Dangerous situations call for dangerous solutions.

“Lieutenant,” Logan said, moving in close to the officer as he paced the bridge. “Do you remember that drift maneuver you pulled off when we were ambushed by those mercs over Dorvalla?”

The officer’s eyes widened. A mix of fear and disbelief visible in his expression. He remembered but not fondly.

“You can’t be serious,” he replied, knowing exactly what the captain was thinking.

“You got a better idea?” Logan quickly said, clapping a hand down on the man’s shoulder. “The question is, cowboy. Can you ride that dewback for us again?”

The lieutenant’s gaze dropped low for a moment, contemplating the bold request. His better judgment told him to refuse but, for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a better alternative. The move was crazy. One mistake and the whole ship would be in jeopardy. However, somehow he knew he could do it.

“Alright,” he said, his eyes meeting the captain’s. “Call it.” Logan smiled with the subtlest of nods. His faith in his comrades was absolute. He trusted them with his life as much as they trusted him. As the lieutenant moved to helm position, Vad paced back to his captain’s chair.

“Buckle up, boys,” he announced on the ship-wide comms. “This old girl is about to show off her dance moves. Get everything strapped down and hang on tight. Gunners, on my signal.” He glanced over at the lieutenant to find him already looking back. A silent moment of understanding was shared by the men. Then they snapped to action.

“Manually engage lateral thruster groups two, four, and seven. Full power. On my mark, cut all main engines,” the lieutenant ordered. The crew that had seats buckled every strap they could. Those without grabbed tight to anything close. Logan braced himself. “Mark!”

The Eclipse ships behind the Generous Fox saw all ten of its remaining rear thrusters suddenly go dark. Bright blue lights gleamed out from the rear right side and front left side as the thrusters pushed the limits of their hardware. The Fox’s forward momentum slowed and the ship became canted upward at forty-five degrees.

“Warning. Warning. Warning,” the ship’s computer repeated as flashing red lights and alarms filled the compartments. The hull audibly groaned under the pressure. Crew throughout the Fox held tight as tools and equipment were thrown through the air. Many brave men, who would be unphased by facing down rows of aimed blasters, closed their eyes and held their breath.

“Coming around!” the lieutenant screamed over the noise. The slaver gunship to their left side made emergency maneuvers to avoid colliding with the reeling corvette.

“Open fire!” Logan spat. The guns of the Fox roared. The ship to their right side was the target. Turbolasers and blaster cannons pumped hot red plasma into the shocked vessel. Their shields buckled under the barrage, mounted gun emplacements exploded, and bolts tore through the metal structure.

“Cutting all thruster groups. Now engaging groups one, three, and eight. Prepare to fire main engines,” the lieutenant continued to his co-pilots.

“Fox Squadron, do a flyby of bandit two. Don’t engage, just draw their fire,” Logan ordered over comms. “All batteries, switch targets.”

“Roger that, command,” a reply came from the Fox Squadron leader.

The first gunship exploded into stardust as its engine core went critical. One bandit remained. Four interceptors blew past the group, flying close but much faster than attack speed. The Eclipse guns reacted as predicted. The gunships were designed for anti-starfighter action so Logan didn’t want to risk Fox Squadron. They came just close enough to be marked but were gone before the turrets could get a lock. It was a mistake the slavers would regret.

The batteries on the Fox trained on their next target. Still twisting through space, the corvette appeared to be completely out of control. In truth, it was mostly out of control. Turbolasers opened up on the bandit, repeating their treatment of the first until it lit up with cascading explosions.

Following the gunship’s demise, the Fox’s main engines glowed back to life. The lateral thrusters pushed hard to level the craft. Moments later the ship was stable. The red alert lights vanished. The alarms were replaced by cheers from every level and compartment.

Logan grabbed onto the shoulders of the lieutenant in congratulations. He had pulled off a once in a lifetime stunt for a second time in his life. The officer sighed in relief, letting the tension in his body relax. Still trembling he turned to grasp an outstretched hand of his captain. They clasped palms and clapped each other on the upper arm.

“Good flying, partner,” Vad said before turning back to the crew. “Take us back into formation with the rest of the fleet. Let’s do this right.”

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE
K A Z A R A K
[ T H E M E ]

​

TASK FORCE BOUQUET​
Spoiler: Bouquet List. The Rae Sloane The Tessala Corvae The Lanzora Garan The Tishra Kandia The Terisa Kerrill The Havina Vonreg The Garmen Naadra The Rella Sol The Seawolf The Serpent The Sparrow The Storm The Sunbreaker The Strongbow The Dagger The Defender The Duchess The Dragon The Diomede The Daring The Dauntless The Danae

​

Titan squadron followed Mr. Bloodborn's orders precisely knowing what was at stake they were not going to let anyone down. Observing the battle from the Rae Sloane, Ariel Yvarro frowned and made a note to Bloodborn and Titan. "Mr. Bloodborn, Titan Squadron, if you could be so kind as to make sure our friends with Mr. Logan and the RTL do not get themselves killed. It would be a pity to see their forms dispersed among the stars in such a violent matter." She could not have such souls finding themselves one with the Balance at this very instant. As to the rest of the fleet, Yvarro watched their movements.

"You're getting sloppy out there, I want precision, adjust your formation," turning off the comms for a moment, Ariel opened up the last few commands her mother had placed here. While the years had passed the formations and notes left behind were invaluable, "Galidraan. Ten-Sixty-Six. Alpha." The words might as well have ancient Dosuunian she knew little of their meaning aside from the scribbles her mother wrote which simply meant that the Sloane would sit in the most forward position with the smaller ships taking the rear and their fighters flying below and above them. An interesting three-dimensional take on the projectile point, the idea would be to move as fast as the ships would allow. The larger ships would slow down and the smaller ones would increase their speed and 'launch' forward of the Sloane and her escorts.

The Lucrehulk was nearing its end, Tillian's squadron had been precise, and the Victorian fleet was about to be the hammer to slam all missiles, mass drivers, and hypervelocity cannons into its ever-worsening hull. "Do not let them survive, any fighter, escort, or ship bearing Eclipse markings must perish. Let this be a message to any who might dare cross us." Ariel's command over encrypted channels would see the Imperial ships remind everyone of just how powerful the First Order was. How, and why it was they ruled the void for so many years - the might of their military behind them.

A message to Tillian, and indeed Logan from Ariel, "we're with you all the way, and will be happy to escort you all back to your base when this is over. If you'd like, you can rest your birds in our hangars." Her voice came across sincere enough, although she doubted they would take her up on the offer. Turning off the comms channel, Ariel watched the action unfold through the ship's viewport. Images of the destructive orchestra around her, the adrenaline of the fight had kicked in and Ariel could now, truly, see and understand her mother's perspective. The call of the void was addictive and seemingly unavoidable for the woman.

Kurayami Bloodborn | Roth Tillian | Vad Logan​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami was surprised, and nicely so, by the skill level of Titan. They seemed to have taken to his orders quite easily and were following him well. He wouldn't say that they were without flaw, but there was no pilot who was, even his fighter showed some carbon scoring after the fighting they had done. He wasn't upset by that, but obviously he would have preferred to not have taken even glancing shots to the hull. The pilots were improving rapidly and when he was about to radio Ariel about their progress, he instead got a ping from her. "I see. Unfortunate that they got themselves caught up in that rumble. We'll go provide support. Titan squad, same as before stay tight and lets make sure that the enemy pays dearly for so much as costing our allies an engine." He cut comms and vectored towards the location of the Generous Fox along with the fighter squadron providing cover.

When they were almost at a point to provide support, one of the enemy gunships exploded into a fireball. The perfect cover for a strafing run against the second while it was otherwise occupied. "Titan squadron we are going in weapons hot. Any ordnance, target the turrets and fire control systems. Hit them hard we are goin in from the top, high speed . Once you fire peel off and start hunting for fighters, keep an eye out for the friendly squadron and if you see one in trouble go with a wingman and help them out. I will be here as well to keep an eye on the situation. Good hunting." Nosing over into a steep dive, he opened up with a full salvo from the cannons, sliding just enough to change targets from one burst to the next as he went along the length of the hull. Even if he only hit a couple targets, the members of Titan squadron behind him had more luck with causing some damage to the weapon systems before they departed and began hunting the nearby slaver fighter support. Kurayami was drift the back end of his fighter around and aim the nose of his fighter slightly ahead of the bridge and set the ventral bomblet generator to begin priming for an attack. Once that pinged green and fully loaded, he flicked the safety off and unleashed a full load from the generator in a straight line hoping to damage the bridge enough to at least distract the slavers from firing just long enough for him to take out a couple of their larger weapons with another run. Between the agrocite enhanced cannons and the bomblet generator, he managed to thin out the AAA cover enough to put a couple of the larger turrets out of commission.

Once that was all done, he went to rejoin with Titan squadron. He would have to find a way to repay Ariel's kindness for bringing him out here and giving him a place to stay on the Rae Sloane during all the craziness.

Ariel Yvarro | Roth Tillian | Vad Logan ​

 

[BB-4001X]

[ burning bright ]​

Holding one edge of the shirt in his mouth, the droid used its one operable hand to tear the garment into strips.

Fashioning a makeshift sling, the chore bot managed to loop it over one shoulder to cradle its left arm so that it wasn't flopping around anymore. The blaster pistol lay on the ground in front of him, a tendril of smoke still rising from the tip. He only had one shot left and two attackers that he knew of.

By his estimation, they wouldn't stay up in the lighting. Selecting an ambush on the dark side of the planet had clearly been calculated on the boy's rylith power core. Though the initial ambush had failed, they could still run the BB-4X out of power while there wasn't any solar to charge off of. It was an advantage that they wouldn't want to let slip, especially when the droid had no other needs. That made it possible for him to go to ground and wait them out.

His mobility had been impaired by the fall, but they wouldn't know that. Just like they wouldn't likely make any assumptions about his ammunition capacity. So, for the moment anyway, he had that going for him.

The sound of footsteps prompted the afro-headed boy to lean forward. His auditory processors were working to try and ascertain the movement and direction of the sound, as his hand closed around the grip of the small pistol.

The two seemed to be fanning out and then crossing back in an overlapping zig-zag sweep of the scrapyard. Very efficient. Guavian Death Gang?

That seemed likely. For a target this far from the Corporate Sector, the Crymorah would likely contract out. And they'd worked with the Guavian Death Gang before. Reflecting back on those experiences, the pattern that the droid was seeing from this pair was consistent with what he'd witnessed of the Death Gang's practices on Koboth.

The droid frowned.

The sweep out to be fanned out, covering a wide area in search for a target. Instead, the sounds he was picking up suggested that they were homing in on him much faster than he'd originally calculated.

Probably scanning for active power signatures.

Laying the pistol back down on the ground, the boy struggled with just the one working arm. Pulling out the blaster cap, setting it aside, and then making an adjustment to the power cell.

They wanted a power signature, he'd give them a power signature to track.

Jamming the blaster cap back into the pistol, the droid propped it against the scrap heap behind him and then scurried away. Dropping his hand to the small of his back, he drew the hold-out pistol. He'd have almost no range, so he couldn't go far, circling back around another scrap heap that gave him cover and a close line of sight on where the Briletto pistol was now building toward overload.

Putting his back to the scrap, the afro-headed bot brought the pistol up. His fourth-degree subprocessor was already calculating the proper trajectory for the shot he wanted, relaying a choreographed series of movements to his servoes even as the audio processor continued to pick out the sound of movement in the scrapyard. With his misaligned hip, he wouldn't be able to move very well, so this was going to either work or it'd be the last faliure he'd ever have.

The shooters were no longer moving toward him, they were now starting to key on the overloaded blaster. They'd fanned out and were now moving in with a pincer maneuver that would approach from both sides.

Definitely relying on scanners.

Counting down in his proverbial head, the chore bot monitored each footstep until the movement stopped. They'd keyed in on the source of the power signature, but didn't see anything.

Springing out from behind the scrapheap, the droid's arm snapped out as he leveled the small pistol and fired a shot in mid-air.

The bolt struck the pistol, triggering an explosion as the power cell erupted.

Both shooters reeled back as the goggles they were wearing were overloaded. That was his moment of opportunity. Rolling up from the ground, the droid brought the pistol up and squeezed off another two rounds, catching one of the shooters in the chest before the second hit him in the head.

The other fired off a burst of blaster fire that swept low, but was firing blind.

A third shot took him down, collapsing to the ground with a smoking hole in his face.

The small droid just continued to crouch on the ground, as though trying to catch his breath. He didn't detect any other immediate threats, so he could spare some processing power to run diagnostics.

Overall, he was pretty well karked.

Power levels were dropping to below nominal operating capacity. His left shoulder servo was completely destroyed. His hip was misaligned, throwing off his bipedal locomotion.

And one question remaining in all of this. Where was the Chadra-Fan?

As if in answer, the droid heard a sound like that of a ship taking off.

Struggling to stand, the boy managed to limp his way through the scrapyard until he caught a glimpse of his Razor Crest lifting into the air, before the engines ignited and the ship took off into the air.

...that would seem to be just where his good friend Drex had gone.

Sinking to his knees, the droid faceplanted down into the dirt and just lay there. When the sun came up, it'd recharge his power levels. Or maybe some Jawas would show up and disassemble him.

At this point, BB wasn't sure which seemed the better outcome.

Whatever, the droid's eyes closed as he powered himself down.

To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, there's the rub.

[ fini ]​

 

[Elias Edo]

​

Tags: Lossa Darcuhl | Mishel | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Rhiza Dural | Saram Kote | Westenra Mina
Objective 2: Umbra Actual
Assaulting the Eclipse on KAZARAK...

The explosion rocked the ground, sending dirt, stone, and shrapnel flying overhead. Elias couldn’t help but shout out when he saw the massive hole blown through the outer wall. Then, the all-clear came over comms.

"Job done, Master Jedi. Mark your positions and we can cover your advance.”

Elias turned to face the League troopers behind him, an expression of pure confidence on his face. The ghosts of Phoenix Squadron had left his mind, and all that remained was the mission: Destroy the Eclipse.

“On my mark!” the Jedi shouted, rallying any nearby soldiers. He looked to Lossa Darcuhl and gave her a nod.

“Charge!”

Elias vaulted the rubble pile, lightsaber at the ready, and lead the push toward the wall. Blasterfire clashed against the emerald plasma of his blade, some being redirected to sender and others dissipating on impact. A roar of yells and battle cries filled the air as the overhead gunships phased in and out of sight, crushing the slavers’ defenses. It fueled the Rebel Jedi, making his blood pump fast and hard like coaxium through a hyperdrive. Elias came to a stop just outside the newly-punched entrance, holding his ground and covering for the troops still crossing the pass.

An incoming blaster bolt came unexpectedly, singing his bicep as it ripped past. He cursed under his breath, scanning the distant parapets for the sniper who made the mistake of missing his shot.

“We’ve got to move! Sniper!” Elias called, waving the last of Fireteam Kresh inside. A glint in the distance caught his eye, just in time to snap his lightsaber up to smack the bolt.

“Got you, now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Master Edo to Fireteam Junda! Got another target! Sniper, third parapet on the eastern wall, looking for a good time.”

​

 

[Roth Tillian]

Vad Logan Ariel Yvarro Kurayami Bloodborn

"Feth-" one of the co-pilots said as the assault fighter shook under the nearby explosions of point-defense weaponry. Roth didn't notice, keeping his eyes half-shut and flying on instinct.

"Logan's helmsman is insane," the other said. Roth's eyes snapped open and he threw a glance over his shoulder, catching the final moments of the maneuver.

"Sounds about right," Roth grunted, looking ahead again and flexing his knuckles. "Beginning attack run."

"Boarding vessels are on standby."

That was always the challenge. Timing the parts of the operations together. He nudged the yoke down and the fighter ducked down beneath the plane created by the dorsal surface of the ring. The massive central sphere towered above and below, letting Roth slip the fighter sideways.

"Positive ID on power conduit," the gunner said, "Arming torpedoes."

Roth let out a deep breath, feeling the tension ease from his body and listening to the Force sing through his body, making minute adjustments, dancing along through the void.

"Fire in ten seconds."

Roth started a countdown in his head, ticking away a second at a time with the regularity of a metronome. The ship shuddered as the ordinance launched.

Other torpedoes and bombs arced past them and Roth shoved the yoke forward, sending the craft into a steep dive, dropping through the bottom of the ring as explosions shuddered and past them.

"Positive it. Ship power disabled. Cometeers moving to secure the vessel."

"Lucky shot," Roth said after a moment, brushing his forehead with one hand.