[The Rise of Iron] Battle In The Stars

[Isamu Baelor]

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“Incoming fire!”

The quiet peace shattered. Broken, as a salvo of lasers streaked across the bow of the Relentless. The alarm blared throughout the bridge, the ominous red light flashed, and a sense of dread welled up in the guts of the crew. Fear gripped the weary travelers; fear that the great evil, of which they fled, had found them. A groan of anger slipped through the gritted teeth of General Isamu Baelor. “A warning shot? An attempt to stop us." He mused. Isamu "The Sith?” He asked.

The technician analyzed the readings. His eyes darted back and forth across the screen. “No, Sir." He shook his head. "The IFF codes are unknown. It’s not the Sith.”

"This far out in the Unknown Regions?" Isamu pondered. "Pirate scum."

“General! The unknown ships have entered our flight path. Elevation difference: twelve, range: one thousand." The technician turned his head, and looked over his shoulder towards Isamu. "They’re moving to intercept us!”

"Have all pilots report to their fighters, and move the fleet into battle formation." The General ordered. The engines of the beaten, and battered, ships powered-up. The most battle-worthy of the fleet lumbered forward, and formed a protective line around the most damaged ships.

The tension was palpable, as battle loomed over the horizon. However, the tension was quickly broken, as the communications officer called out from his station. “General, we’re being hailed by one of the hostile ships.”

“Put it through.”

The blue hue of the hologram bathed the bridge in a cold light. The image of a young man, golden haired and slender, took form. He sat atop a luxurious throne, adorned with a spectacular golden crown. "Tsk, tsk, One Sith. You dare encroach upon my domain?" He said, chastising the migrants.

"And whose domain is it, of which we encroach upon?" Isamu retorted.

The thing lips of the crown man contorted, a smug smile formed on his face. "The domain of King Jaron Mallister..." He announced, proudly. "the second of my name, ruler of the planet Eitr, and one third of the Crossbone Triumvirate." His mouth gushed with pomposity, an unbridled torrent of vanity.

As the young man rambled, listing his titles, Isamu sat silent. His judgemental gazed locked upon the King, as he measured the crowned man that sat before him. He spoke with undeserved pride, carried himself with extreme arrogance. He was no more than a spoiled brat, who had inherited his crown.

"For this intrusion upon my space, I will take reparations." The Crossbone King announced. "You will Lower your shields, power-down your weapons, and surrender yourself into my custody." He ordered. "Your ships, will be mine." "Do so, and I will allow your people to live." Hollow words betrayed, by the sly grin of a snake.

"Do you take me for a fool, boy king?" The General asked, spitting venom. "You had already decided to kill us, long before you hailed this ship." Isamu rose from his chair, clutching his injured side. A groan of pain slipped through his lips. "I will give you an ultimatum." He said. "Retreat your ships from this sector, or I will destroy you."

A sigh left the lips of the Crossbone King, followed by a chuckle. "I would have preferred this to be easy, but so be it." He said. From his chair, he lent forward, and stared directly at Isamu. "If it's any consolation." He said. "Either way, I was going to kill you all." A light shrug punctuated his words, before the signal was cut.

Isamu grit his teeth. They had escaped one evil, but had fallen into the jaws of another. "Get your best soldiers." Isamu ordered. "I'm going to kill this Crossbone King."

​

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Objective 1: Protect the migrant fleet.​

At all costs, we must defend the most damaged of our ships. Do whatever you can.​

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Objective 2: Stop the pirates who are attempting to board.​

If the pirates breach our defenses, they will slaughter our people. Shoot them from the skies, swat them from our ships, or kill them as they enter. Do not let them reach the civilians.​

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Objective 3: [Unknown]​

To be revealed later in the thread.​

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Objective 4: Kill the Crossbone King.​

If we cut the head off of their army, the rest will crumble. Board a shuttle, brave the battle, and land on their flagship. We will break through, and end this with a single blow.​

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Spoiler

[member="Daegon Vaelaellis"]
[member="Charzon Loulan"]
[member="Dunames Lopez"]
[member="Gael bar Ammon"]
[member="Garm Berik"]
[member="Gunther Creed"]
[member="Jansal Corego"]
[member="Lyle Baelor"]
[member="Samuel Baelor"]
[member="Songbird"]
[member="Zeradias Mant"]

​

 

[Titan]

Abraxis boarded his Shuttle, and launched it straight towards the enemy flagship. He had joined this group, the Iron Empire, because he belived in their ways, but he would stay loyal to Clan Ataaka, more so than to this Empire. But he was loyal all the same. The shuttle hit the flagship and carved a hole in it, large enough for a man to enter through, and Abraxis climbed out. He was confronted by a group of lackey's, Abraxis threw one of his raxordisc's into one it cut through the man's midriff and bounced off the wall behind him into another. Igniting his lightsaber Abraxis made short work of the rest. He looked around seeing that he had quite a ways up to go, he cut a hole in the elevator and drove his Jet Cycle up, luckily the shaft was at a angle, and the Jet Cycle could go quite fast.. His 8 Redundance-class corvettes, all loaded with a entire squadron of Starbird-class interceptors were helping the rest of the Iron Fleet fight the pirates.

 

[Zef Halo]

The constant rocking of the corvette made Garm's fast walk through the corridors of the ship hard. Whoever was attacking was certainly throwing all they had at the smaller ships of the flotilla that had arrived here. Yet, it was not that which bothered the older man much as it was being called on the bridge by the captain. Garm was indeed a good navigator but he was never trained to command or even assist naval officers in battles.

"Yes, Captain." The navigator said as he stepped onto the bridge, his hands behind his back.

"Please, enlighten us who this King Jaron Mallister is." The captain gestured for the older man to come to him and the tactical map that was being holoprojected in the centre of the bridge.

"Jaron Mallister ? Up here ?" Garm's eyes slightly widened for a moment before he proceeded to the tactical map. His thoughts paced through his head. Things in the Unknown Regions were getting grimmer by the day if self-proclaimed Kings such as Jaron had expanded so much. Those news only bolstered further Garm's support of General Isamu Baelor.

"Jaron Mallister." The captain repeated slowly.

"A self-proclaimed King. Nothing more than a pirate." The navigator's eyes fell upon the viewport and then on the numerous information that was being holoprojected. "With a larger fleet than I remember. I also see numerous Empire of the Hand designs. Perhaps stolen."

That knowledge made Garm grimace, to which the captain raised an eyebrow.

"Anything you know that might help us in this scenario, Garm ?"

"Please patch me in to General Baelor." The navigator asked politely and the captain gestured for the communications officer to open a channel to the flagship of the fleet.

"General Baelor, I had not expected the presence of such flotilla here, Sir." Garm admitted before continuing. "Yet, if I may, I would like to give you a profile about the man. A reckless, bordering stupid man who commands through fear. His men will falter if pressed hard by the disciplined and well trained men of yours. I would suggest that you consider my report in your next course of action, Sir."

[member="Isamu Baelor"] [member="Abraxis"]

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Ever since the confrontation with his deceased beloved’s family, Konrad had become somewhat of a changed man. No longer did he thirst for blood or long for destruction. Instead, he began to work towards to becoming the man that he had once been before her death, the man she loved. His past actions weighed on his chest and shame washed over him. Had she been able to witness his seduction to the [SIZE=14.6667px]darkside[/SIZE], she would no doubt express her disappointment in his change and perhaps, even feared him - the man who would commit unspeakable atrocities for her without a second thought.

“I love you,” Konrad whispered with no one to hear as he reminisced about her, tears pooling in his eyes. Her soft hair, her gentle smile, her sweet scent - he missed them all even though his memories of her were vague at best. If not for the photos he had of her, he might not have even remembered what she looked like.

While still immersed in the bittersweet memories of the past, the alarms blared, announcing a pirate attack, forcing him back in the loneliness of reality. Whether it was out of his desperation for redemption or desire to protect, Konrad rushed to the location where the civilians were told to gather, his crimson lightsaber in hand. No longer was he a perpetrator of destruction, those days had concluded when he took his departure from the treacherous One Sith, but at the same time, he was not a righteous protector of the weak. The former One Sith High General was only a man. A lost and confused man.

 

[Arrik Terran]

Arrik ran. Fast. The explosion had rocked the vessel quite harshly, throwing the young Jedi off balance. Pirates...here? It made sense. But he didn't believe that anyone would be aiming for them. Arrik was new to this group...still wondering why he joined up with ex Sith in the first place. But there was something about their emperor...something that he couldn't quite name.

Arrik skidded on his heels and came to a halt outside the room Imsau currently stood in. He was injured, but the man still had fight left in him. That much was clear. He caught only the tail end of the conversation between him and the pirate, but Arrik new that the conversation was over.

Arrik stood silently for a moment as Imsau turned away from the dying hologram. [Font color=red]"I suppose we're not negotiating then?"[/font], he spoke quietly. Now it was just a question of whether Imsau would have him stay behind and protect their fleet, or have him join the strike force.

[Font color=red]"Sir, I'm far better on my feet then in a fighter. Awaiting orders."[/font] Arrik spoke quietly as he drew his saber from his hip. Arrik wasnt sure if they could even do this with the number of people they had...but...if they didn't even give it a shot they were dead for sure.

Arrik has thrown his blade in with these men and women for a reason...now was time to see if he had made the right choice.


[member="Garm Berik"]@Abraxis@Isamu Baelor

 

[Zeradias Mant]

Above the ambient rumble of the engines, a quiet music filled the quarters which he dwelled. He sat. Though there were other things, he sat, as if he anticipated what was to come. He started straight forward, leaning forward off the side of his rack. It was miles more luxurious than the crews, but a rack nonetheless. Then, the music was drowned out, just as it had done to the ambient engine sounds. A yellow strobe began flickering in his room with a loud alarm blaring through the halls.

Pirates. A scourge to the galaxy, and the subject of much spite from Zera the Mant. He cared not for civilian loss, nor did he care for the crews. They should have known the risks with what they were doing. But he hated pirates. And they chose the wrong fleet to mess with. Rising, he exited his quarters into a bustling hall, with shouting crewmen scrambling to their posts. Calmly, Zeradias made his way to the bridge. Though his music wasn't audible in the slightest, it's almost as if it's all Zera could hear. It seemed to almost be guiding his emotion to prevent a more reckless outburst.

"Attention on deck!", a crewman shouted for the bridge to hear. The command center of the Retribution ceased all activity to render this time honored tradition of yielding to their senior officer, or in this case, liege. With a curt nod, the crew resumed their duties, frantically preparing damage control, sitreps, and counteroffensive measures.

"Patch me through.", Zera instructed the communications officer in monotone as he took his seat in the captain's chair at the helm of the ship.

"Aye, sir. Relentless, Retribution.", she hailed. "Overlord Actual for the general."

Overlord is how Zeradias styled the units directly under his command. Being in charge of them made him, Overlord Actual.

"Sir, you have him."

"General Baelor.", Zera greeted briefly. "The Retribution will be making the jump into hyperspace." Anyone that heard him would be confused. Anyone that knew him would know otherwise. A classic strategy of Zera the Mant. He would jump into hyperspace to appear to be a panicked vessel looking to get out of a unfavorable situation, leaving the rest of his companions to fend for themselves. He would then jump back into the original system, behind the enemy forces. It required nothing short of perfect navigation and a little extra effort, but to maintain a unscathed ship and tear down his enemies made it all worth it.

"Watch your fire."

As if on cue, the ship bolted out of the system, away from the ensuing chaos. But the quiet was only temporary. There was a storm brewing, and lightning was sure to strike.

[member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Garm Berik"] | [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] | [member="Abraxis"] | @Arrik Terran​

 

[Songbird]

"I don't know how we can thank you!"
Songbird looked away from the repairs to the engines of the freighter to look at the Ithorian wringing his hands behind her, his crew looking at her with awe.
The Talravani chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck, her brown eyes somewhat obscured from behind her goggles.
"No need, love. Helping is its own reward."
The Ithorian blinked in surprise, not expecting this mysterious woman to turn down a reward.
"Just promise me to be more careful in the future and we'll be even, love."

As the Jackdaw propelled itself away from the freighter, Songbird sighed as she pulled the goggles from her head, rubbing at her eyes.
From its place in the interceptor, her astromech R6-Z9 beeped and whirled, asking when the last time she slept was.
Songbird chuckled, her exhaustion leaking into her accented voice.
"Think I caught some winks when we entered the Unknown Regions."
R6 made the observation that that had been two days ago, which made his partner wince.
"Yeah. . . I know."

Songbird and R6 had entered the Unknown Regions with the intention of harassing a corrupt government known as the Crossbones Triumvirate; pirates. The vigilante had been a thorn in their side for awhile now, the Jackdaw causing quite a bit of damage to the Triumvirate's fleets. But she had never been able to find their leaders, and bring them to justice.
Their mission, however, had frequently been interrupted by endangered civilians that Songbird couldn't help but assist. Case in point, the Ithorians.

The woman sighed as the Jackdaw sped toward its destination: a well-known Crossbones ambush spot. Well-known to those in the know, of course.
The woman replaced her goggles on her head, her vision taking on an orange tint.
As her interceptor dropped out of hyperspace, she blinked in surprise. A Crossbones fleet attacking an unknown fleet. She couldn't identify them off-hand, but any enemy of the Triumvirate was a friend of hers.
As she pondered this, she spotted a boarding force headed toward the battered fleet. Well, that just wasn't going to fly.
"R6, arm the weapons, and send out a general communication."
The astromech beeped an affirmative, and Songbird keyed her comm, a grin on her face.

"You weren't planning on starting a party without your old friend Songbird, were you, loves? I'm hurt."

[member="Isamu Baelor"] [member="Garm Berik"] [member="Abraxis"] [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] [member="Arrik Terran "][member="Zeradias Mant"]

 

[Isamu Baelor]

The Relentless shook, and rattled, under a barrage of fire. It stood at the vanguard of the fleet, and took the brunt of the enemy fury. Its guns fired on the pirate menace, never tiring, never stopping.
Aboard the bridge, Isamu looked at those who surrounded him. "Those of you who can fight, with me!" He ordered. In this time of battle, it was their duty to protect the fleet, to protect the civilians, in any way they could. The General, along with those who followed him, strode through the corridors of the Relentless. It was a hive of activity, as soldiers directed civilians to the safest parts of the ship.

The group arrived at the armoury, and the large metal doors opened, giving way to a large assortment of armours, weapons, and ammunition. Isamu entered, and pulled a set of Iron Guard armour from the wall. His own having been destroyed on Anaxes. As he collected his gear, the stalwart general received a message from the ship’s communications officer. "General, a man aboard one of the corvettes wishes to speak to you. He says he has information about the Crossbone King.”

"Patch him through." The com-link crackled, as the connection was made. "Speak up. What do you know?" He ordered, his lack of tact clear in his words. As Isamu secured his armour, the navigator explained what he knew. His description of the Crossbone King was that of a man not fit to wear a crown. A man, who frankly, was a blight on the galaxy. Little of it came as a surprise to the General. He had assumed as much. “I assume they would.” He replied. “In my experience, pirates prefer fighting unarmed men. We’ll destroy them.”

With their gear equipped, and ready for battle, the boarding party raced to the hangar, to a waiting shuttle. They would brave the space battle, and bring death to the Crossbone King.

[member="Abraxis"] | [member="Garm Berik"] | [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] | [member="Arrik Terran "]| [member="Zeradias Mant"] | [member="Songbird"]

 

[Titan]

After hoping out of the elevator shaft and ramming his cycle through a blast door, Abraxis walked through the enemy ship, killing all in his path, heading straight towards the hangar bay. "Sir, the Behemoth has arrived." The vice came crackling through Abraxis' comm. "Good, send me Mythosaur squadron as soon as you can. I will be in bay 42." Abraxis replied looking up at the id number on the door. In his mind Abraxis counted down to zero, and kicked open the door. Throwing both of his razor discs through the air towards the guards, decapitating two and slicing three more in half as well as slicing through a fifth's heart. The last guard was landed on by a decent sized transport ship, which opened up revealing ten cyclops war droids and one hundred nen clothed in Allit'gam and armed with either assault rifles or mini-guns.

Current Ships contributed:

1x http://starwarsrp.net/topic/91258-behemoth-class-assault-cruiser/
8x http://starwarsrp.net/topic/91231-redundance-class-corvette/
120x http://starwarsrp.net/topic/91318-starbird-class-interceptor/


[member="Songbird"] [member="Zeradias Mant"] [member="Arrik Terran "][member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] [member="Garm Berik"] [member="Isamu Baelor"]

 

[Aster Rose Baelor]

A band of pirates had breached the canteen’s barred doors, slaughtering everyone within their sword's reach and covered the room with the warm scarlet blood that oozed out of the bodies of their victims. Dismembered bodies littered the room as the pirates jeered, proud of their brutality.

Cowering in the corner and filled with fear, Aster watched as one of the men made his way towards her, sword dripping with fresh blood. As he locked eyes with her, his mouth curled back into a [SIZE=14.6667px]wicked[/SIZE] smile, revealing his yellowed teeth as he raised his sword, ready to end her short life in one swift blow. However, before the blow could be delivered several of the pirates, including the man who was just a mere strike from reuniting her with her parents, were sent flying a couple of meters when a man dressed in military attire with sad eyes entered the room, his lightsaber drawn.

 

[Arrik Terran]

Arrik only nodded his head and drew his saber from his belt, he has wasted too much time already. He frowned quietly...how many had already died for him to receive orders? Was he doing the right thing?

No...Arrik couldn't second guess himself now, not this close to action. There was no thought anymore, only a drive. Protect. His lightsaber blazed to light and he flipped the handle backwards, adopting an inverted hold to compliment his use of form IV combat.

He rushed forward, bursting into a room full of marauding pirates. Blood had already been spilt...no more. He threw his blade directly at the first purate he saw, retrieving it with the force after the damage had been done.

With his other hand he lifted one into the air, his face contorting into an expression of fear. Arrik threw him against the others, not a kill, but giving him enough time to stand between the Pirates and the people.

"Go, Get out!" Arrik shouted to the people behind him. They all began to run in a panicked fashion towards the doors he had just entered from. Good...now he could really go to work.

Deflecting blaster bolts and cutting down enemies in a dance of death Arrik cut down pirate after pirate. They had harmed the ones he swore to protect....death was all they deserved

As the left was impaled by the green blade and kicked swiftly in the chest away from Arrik he stopped to look around. His breath coming out in short bursts....well...that's one group down.

He turned to watch his companions battle, some wielding Sith Lightsabers, some firing blasters, others wielding the lightsaber of a Jedi. it was...interesting to see the Sith and Jedi work together.

Taking a deep breath he rushed forward into the next fight.

 

[Duskhaven OOC]

Tobias pressed himself back against the bulkhead as the Rodian walked down the corridor. He fought to keep from scowling at the creature, but his distaste was evident enough to earn grumbles from the Rodian. Tobias stepped back into the corridor and hurried on his way, not wanting to have a disturbance when the migrant fleet was in the midst of a battle. If the Rodian didn't have skin as thick as it seemed like it should, then that wasn't his fault. Tobias continued on his way up to the bridge. His position in the fleet was...undefined. He had skills the fleet required at times, but also skills that were sometimes best left disavowed.

Tobias slid into a seat in front of a console to the back of the bridge, and began to scan through the sensor data on their enemy, specifically the electronic signatures of the enemy ships. Information was the key to every battle, and that was something with which Tobias was very skilled at obtaining.

 

[Zeradias Mant]

As the Retribution exited hyperspace, the Zeradias shifted in his chair. The only sounds now were the working crewmen and the whirring of the engines.

Zeradias need not give commands to the crew directly - his senior leaders were already taking care of that. It certainly helped that everyone knew what they were doing. This maneuver was risky, but they've done it dozens of times. He simply gazed onwards out the bow of the ship to the endless sea of stars. The stars became streaks, and the Retribution was on it's way back to the fight.

"Coming out of hyperspace now."​, a crewmember said. "Shields charged. Turbolaser batteries coming online."​

One of the ships navigational officers began to bark at the helmsman to bring the ship's starboard side to face the hostile ships. He could hear the TAO give status updates on the ship's weapons systems.

"Turbolasers online."​

Without a moment of hesitation, Zeradias gave the command. "Fire."​

The Retribution rocked as every turbolaser battery on the ship opened fire on the hostile fleet. "Prepare the boarding squadron."​, he said as he rose from his chair and made for his quarters. He would don his gear and set forth with the smaller ships, weave through their own fire, and board the would-be king's ship.

The king would bend the knee.

[member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Garm Berik"] | [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] | [member="Songbird"] | [member="Tobias James"]​

 

[Aster Rose Baelor]

Immobilized by fear, unable to avert her eyes, Aster watched as the man dressed in a military uniform made light work of the pirates. The men who had been on a blood-thirsty rampage cutting down person after person with each swing of their sword lay motionless on the floor, dyed red with the blood of their victims.

Despite having been consumed by fear only moments before, Aster meekly approached the man who dispatched the cruel men who had so mercilessly butchered the weak and defenceless. "Are we going to be safe now?" Aster asked the man, trembling.

"Yes," he confirmed simply, gazing at her with sad eyes.

"Are you a soldier?" she asked, the man with an inquisitive look though still shaken.

"...Yes, I suppose so," he replied again, after a short pause.

"Do you know Isamu Baelor? My mother told me is military eggsecuta for the One Sith." Aster continued, unyielding in her questioning.

The mention of that name intrigued the man. Why would she ask about Isamu Baelor? he wondered. Intrigued, he asked her name. "Yes, I know Isamu Baelor. Why do you ask girl?"

Tears filled Aster's eyes as she began to answer. "My mother told me to find him before she passed."

Emphasizing with the young woman's loss, moved a hand to gently pat her head but stopped when she flinched in response. "I see. What is your name girl? My name is [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] but you may call me Konrad."

"Aster Rose Moreau, but you may call me Aster," she replied, mirroring him.

"Aster, who were your parents?" Konrad inquired, scrutinizing her appearance.

"My mother was Eileen Moreau and my father was Adrien Moreau. He was also a soldier. Did you know him?" she asked as she began to relax a little.

"I've heard of him," Konrad replied before pulling a small datapad out of his coat.

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Konrad made a silent note of the girl’s words before he had her rejoin [SIZE=14.6667px]the[/SIZE] other civilians in the canteen. Tired from his use of the force, Konrad sat in front of the door, lightsaber drawn but not ignited as he waited for reinforcements to arrive. After several minutes, a small crew arrive to clear the room of the dead before joining Konrad and the civilians inside the canteen after placing several trip mines in the hallway outside the room and welding the door shut. This time, they were prepared. No more innocent blood was going to be shed.

 

[Arrik Terran]

Arrik jogged away from the incoming crew. He had outraced the majority of the Iron Empires forces in an effort to save as many lives as possible. He had succeeded...no matter how slight. For now their enemies had been repulsed from their halls. Now it was time to take the fight to them.

Arrik rounded a corner turning back to receive his new orders. As he rounded a corner he noticed a man sitting in front of a door... Sith Saber on his lap. On Amy other occasion Arrik would have lopped his head off then and there.

But he kept forgetting...there wasn't time to kill Sith. Not the ones that fought under the Iron Banner anyway. He looked at the man, tired...he had obviously just been through a fight or two.

As Arrik relied more on his blade than the force to strike down his foes, he didn't feel as much fatigue as some other force wielding members. He looked to the man, "...Everything locked down on this end?"

He already knew the answer, but it was his only way of getting the mans attention so they could continue on to their next objective.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

The last time the Baelor was in a situation like this was on Dulvoyinn when the One Sith and the Galactic Alliance battled against each other in the vacuum of space for dominance over a strategic planet that would then cut off all supplies to major worlds such as Panatha and many more. It was the first time he was used to a space battle like that since he was a black ops agent specialized in infiltrating, sabotaging, assassinating, and spying not some ensign or pilot that was adept in space combat. He was definitely the guy who'd like to have his feet in the atmosphere of any planet and not be stuck in some vessel whether it was a corvette or a cruiser. He hoped that was the last time in his life he had to experience something like that in his life, but sometimes the cards that one wanted to have in their hand wouldn't be dealt out to them like a treat.

And today was a fine example of that.

"Damn it, this is like Dulvoyinn all over it," the agent said as he was putting on his Di-chrome tactical armor and readying his equipment for the battle that was happening. He had no tactics or knowledge on what to do, but he was sure as anything that he was staying on this ship and protect its refugees on board. He wasn't sure what his cousin was up to or what he was going to do, but he knew some plan was formulating in that kind of his that won battles for the One Sith against the faltering Galactic Republic. "I'll tell you one thing that we're not gonna do, and it's the fact we are not going in the hangar where all the fighting is gonna take place. Instead, we're gonna patrol the corridors with the di-chrome activated. Understand," Lyle said to his men as they were suited and ready for combat. They all nodded their heads.

"Then let's blend," and they were all invisible to the naked eye as they blended in with their surroundings due to the di-chrome in their armor. Whatever hostiles they would approach would get killed by mortal ghosts.

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Sensing the approach of another through the intricate web of the Force, Konrad turned his head in the direction of the newcomer, a light-skinned young man with shoulder-length brown hair. "...Everything locked down on this end?" The young man asked as he approached.

Standing up, still feeling the resulting fatigue after harnessing the Force in combat, Konrad replied with a brief nod. "Should be. I have assigned a few soldiers to secure and lockdown this area." His words were simple and to the point, portraying a stern character but whether he was actually a stern man or just a man who had lost his way and donned the mask of his former self was something that he did not know yet. Although he did not let it show, Konrad was a man in the midst of much inner turmoil. That meeting at the graveyard had shook him more than he would let and became the catalyst for his abandonment of his prestigious positions at the One Sith.

[member="Arrik Terran"]

 

[Duskhaven OOC]

Tobias let his fingers dance across the terminal for a few minutes, altering the output of one of the forward sensor arrays to carry a signal surreptitiously. Once he had his signal buried in the outgoing sensor pings of the ship's active sensor array, he encountered the enemy's network. At this point, he'd need more screen space than the standard terminal layout. He set up a holographic display pod and synced it to the system, then began to slice into the firewall protecting the enemy's network.

-------
:: [Access Protocol Initiated]
:: [Enter Authorization Code]
::
::
-------
:: [Datum Cracker Initiating]
:: [Datum Cracker Initiated]
:: [Source Interruption Initiating]
:: [Source Interruption Initiated]
-------
:: [Encrypted Packet Bomb Loaded]
:: [Specify Target]
:: [Target Designation: Host 7Y492.3141S.9LTE0/11735]

Tobias let his hand move away from the console for a moment as his packet bomb loaded up and executed against the enemy firewall. After a few breaths, he continued his typing, shifting the algorithm of his assault against the firewall by miniscule amounts until he finally had access to their network. He quickly put more sensor arrays into position to collect data, and pulled the lead enemy ships library down into his screens. He copied access codes and targeting designations and command codes into his personal drive, then opened a channel to the migrant fleet's command ship.

"Migrant command, I have the beginnings of a download from the enemy computer libraries. I don't have bandwidth at this distance to take complete control of the ship, but I've got full schematics in here and a treasure trove of other goodies at your disposal." He left off identifying himself, leaving the ship communication code identifying him as calling from one of the merchant ships in the fleet, relatively unarmed but boasting decent sensor and communication capabilities.

 

[Kobeon]

War is a certainty.

Those words were uttered by Kobeon's father just before the great winter siege of 1023th Sunpast. Of all the king's ramblings, this one was the truest and, it seemed, applied universally. As if the trauma of being plucked from a medieval world into an interstellar one wasn't enough, Kobeon now had to deal with a deranged monarch shooting at him.

Well, not just him.

With that thought, his distress was almost forgotten. He felt a new thought process guide him; that of heroism. Civilians filled every ship in this fleet with enough density to create diamonds. Okay, maybe not, but it certainly was packed tight. And now they were all under threat. His protective instincts kicked in, driving him to wade through the crowded hangar bay to the military transports that were already gearing up.

"You? You're not a combatant," said a petty officer who was overseeing the preparation of the transport.
"Aye, nae one of yours, but ah can fight," Retorted Kobeon in his thick Kilian accent, whilst brandishing his ancient battle rifle.

The petty officer paused for a moment as he attempted to decipher what Kobeon had just said, which gave Kobeon the opportunity to push past the bewildered man and strap himself into the transport. Nobody within complained, as an air of desperation was palpable throughout the entire flotilla. They'd take whoever they could get.

Besides, Kobeon looked like he could fight. He was geared up in royal Volantir Armor and brandishing a mean, if old, looking weapon.

The craft rumbled and rocked as it took off, causing queasiness to descend upon the prince as it sped through the vacuum of space towards its destination; the enemy flagship.

(Tagging everyone in a shameless bump!)

Spoiler

[member="Isamu Baelor"] @Abraxis @Garm Berik [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"] @Arrik Terran [member="Zeradias Mant"] @Songbird @Aster Rose Moreau [member="Tobias James"] [member="Lyle Baelor"]