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Side: Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force windstorm (Team 3) Enemies: The Galactic Empire & Allies Post: 2
Fun? Scherezade blinked. She could scan her mind for a lot of things, see and realize about wars and battles that those who came before her had experienced, but she wouldn't exactly title any of them as fun. Sure, some had a few fun elements to them, maybe. But... But the fun seemed to happen when they knew what they were doing. Scherezade did most definitely not have a clue as to what exactly it was she was doing. She was mostly trying to not be a reason for failure right now.
But even she couldn't keep the smile off her face when the music blared. All her insides wanted to just jump aside and start dancing. It was a true test of self control to not do that. She'd never danced before, anyway, and she really tried focusing on the fact that she'd look absolutely ridiculous if she tried her first time now in front of all these people.
But she still tapped her foot!
When the song ended, the silly smile was still splattered on her face. It only disappeared when Kat started talking about the team and people wanting to fight. But no, they wouldn't be doing that. They were guarding the Hutt. The Hutt who currently appeared to be... unhappy about the name thing.
"When your reign begins on Tatooine, no one will dare get your name wrong," Scherezade said sweetly in fluent Hutteese to the giant female.
[member="Qymaen sil Jural"] | [member="Kainan Wolfe"] | [member="Darth Metus"]
Allies and Members of the Confederacy
“One whose path has taken a new turn is often initially disoriented. But as time passes, and the path continues steadily in its new direction, there is a tendency to believe that it will remain so forever, with no further turns. Nothing is further from the truth. A path once bent is always susceptible to new change, particularly when the original change came from manipulation by an outside force.” - Grand Admiral Thrawn
A datapad was handed from one of the bridge officers to the Vice Admiral who had taken to his position upon the bridge of the newly dubbed Pruveil moments early after transport from the base upon Hypori had been secured. “Communication from Tarkin’s Fleet at Scarif. They have responded to the Tatooine situation Sir.” Blue eyes scanned over the text and imagery upon the data pad before it was silently handed back to the Captain with a nod of approval. “Yes sir. I will alert all stations.” Around the bridge, senior deck officers, clad in the ever efficient grey of the Imperial Navy went to work to assure that the Junior’s within the pits continued their tasks to the letter. It worked like a well oiled machine, making the INV Pruveil come alive with the sounds and actions of an Imperial warship. As one of the fleets newer Allegiance IV Star Destroyers the Pruveil had yet to see action, the same could be said for each of the other ships of the line that were currently orbiting Hypori like a great ocean of Imperial might. It was a clear indicator just how busy the Imperial foundries had been, churning out ship after ship, blaster after blaster and armour suit after armour suit.
Yet it all came to this it would seem.
Aram took in the view of the fleet amassed around him, knowing that as he did each ship would be receiving the same orders he had just been handed, every Admiral and Captain given the time to glance over what they already had heard through the rumour vine. The Confederacy had decided that the could muscle their way into the Empire and claim their outer territories for their own, subjecting citizens of the Imperial worlds to war, servitude and probable death. It was a natural move by the faction who had launched the raid against the very heart of the Empire itself for no other reason then the need to explain how with emissary and deceit they had interjected opinion and intent throughout the many governments within the galaxy. Indeed even now it seemed that the Forces of Order stood alone against a galaxy that had declared total war, a fate that would bring everything the Empire stood against; disorder, death and chaos. Aram would not stand idle as the Alliance forced their lapdogs to strike back, or was it the Alliance that were the true lapdogs? Manipulated by those who sought to call them allies, a dying body used as a shield to gain power, wealth and personal standing.
“The calls have been received sir.” Deesat, Aram’s second and most trusted said from close proximity after having climbed out from one of the pits behind the observation bridge. “The fleet is ready to jump on your command.” He fell silent and shifted into position next to his commander, brown eyes, in stark contrast to Aram’s brilliant blue looked out upon the same fleet and allowed the sense of patriotic pride to well across him. “Shall I issue the order?”
It was time to make it official. “XO. Fleet Status ready. Confirmed?” Adam spoke for the first time in many minutes, he felt the wandering eyes of many glancing towards him.
“Status ready confirmed sir.” Deesat replied with an all to familiar eagerness that Aram had come to respect from his second.
“Status ready confirmation received. Issue jump order.” As if by some magical force the words created a great sense of excitement about the bridge as Deesat turned to the closest senior office and relayed the order.
“Coms channel 1. Relay confirmation of fleet jump order.”
“Copy that. Communication channel one relaying. All channel’s received. Awaiting green light.” The chain would follow from the pit until finally Aram himself would be left upon the bridge with all eyes awaiting his order.
“Now.”
Before he watched the stars turn to lines of light several of the other ships twinkled into nothing, already having been waiting for the order with over-zealous ambition. He couldn’t blame them, the Empire had been waiting a long time for the chance to hit the upstart Confederacy and as the Pruveil entered hyperspace Aram could only assume that today was their chance.
Action Summary
Fleet has entered light speed from muster point at Hypori.
Side:Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force Windstorm(Team 3) Enemies: The Galactic Empire
The Witch spoke, and had a glint in her eye. That of a fighter, someone with courage and also a way with words. Dalton returned the smile and inclined his head at her.
The flight was as un-engaging as ever. It felt more like a drop-ship, something where Stormtroopers would barrel out of arse-over-heels as they clunked down to take over a planet. It wasn't the company Dalton had issue with, not at all, it was the conditions. They could have used a larger craft, especially with their Hutt taking up a whole section up front.
Head resting on the seat, the juddering of the craft shaking his body slightly, Dalton looked around again. As the solider [member=Riggs] spoke with another hokey-religion prayer, the Corellian shook his head and unlatched his strap.
"The sooner we get to Tatooine the better, what's taking so long."
He stood and walked - or rather edged - through the transport and past the others before moving past the Hutt, taking up a whole area for herself. Dalton winced but kept his opinion to himself as he made sure not to bump into her or step on her tail or something. He headed to the cocking, doors open to allow clear communication, and leant in.
"How are we doing," he asked.
"Nice and steady, General Kenway," the pilot asked, flipping a switch. "We've got tabs on the other task forces in the system, and we're monitoring for Imperial activity. Once they know we're here..."
Dalton smirked. "Charge the boosters. We don't want to be cut short when they appear. Keep your eyes open."
With a final glance outside, Dalton left and edged back to his compartment with the others.
[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] | [member="Kainan Wolfe"] | [member="Darth Metus"]
@Other CIS in Vicinity of Tatooine
Time. It could be friend. It could be enemy. Or so they said. Ephraim interpreted time differently - a universal constant. Each system had multiple planets, all spinning at different speeds as they rotated around a sun, or in some cases two. Time was neither a friend or an enemy, instead merely a frame for the ever changing picture of life. It had taken them longer than he'd expected, several of the older vessels travelling much slower than their modern counterparts, but here they were. Ephraim was anything but a spring chicken, and being the tactical minded man he was, he stopped the rapidly approaching armada just short of their ultimate goal. Tatooine.
When they'd made reversion from their hyperspace jump, an immediate roll call was performed as per protocol. Swift, precise, no extra musings over the comm. It was efficient, just the way Ephraim liked it. While those naval officers in the active force relied on experience to guide them, they had a tendency to let things slide, to grow complacent in their youth. As much as he hated to admit it, the Academy life had done him good, tempered him and forged him into a man who focused on the details. *If you can get the small things right, the larger pieces will fall into place.* The words of Captain Vershaud, his first Commanding Officer echoed in his ears. If only he'd had the wisdom then, how far would he have climbed?
Thoughts of the past were brushed aside as the voice of his XO delivered her report. "All vessels accounted for, Admiral. Awaiting further orders." Admiral Tarkin's steely blue gaze fell upon the command readout across his eyepiece. Everything was in order, they had only a short jump remaining and the interference of the nebula meant their approach would likely go unnoticed - at least at a glance. The one problem with their close vicinity to the nebula was that it also scrambled their own sensors. It was a situation which Ephraim planned to have resolved momentarily.
"Standby the fleet, prepare to receive coordinates." His voice cut into the fleet comms, a brief moment of static as it was disengaged. Only for a moment was it silent across the bridge before he spoke again, this time a tightwave beam towards the fleets already engaged at Tatooine. If the initial reports had been accurate, even to a slight degree, it was a Rear Admiral Carentan who'd been the squadron commander there - surprisingly however he'd received very little in the way of actionable information from the man. Uncharacteristic to be sure. When you served with the Empire for so long you began to recognize names, such was the case with Rear Admiral Carentan. Ephraim had served aboard the INV Phalanx with the officer. At the time they were both Captians. What precious little he could recall was the man's punctuality and wide smile. Now however, he imagined that smile had been turned to a scowl. :: Rear Admiral Carentan, this is Rear Admiral Tarkin. We are standing by just outside the system. Requesting sitrep and approximate enemy positions. ::
For a moment he was met with silence, then the comm cackled to life...
Tatooine Naval Control | Primary Control Center | Rear Admiral Carentan
Outer Rim | Arkanis Sector | Tatooine
By the stars, he'd never seen such an armada. Not even during the rise of the Galactic Empire. Klaxons and alarms had been ringing nonstop since the enemy fleet had arrived, dominating the skies over Tatooine both in and out of atmosphere. From where he stood in the Control Center, RADM Carentan could see everything, and everything he was seeing sent tremors of terror through his body. Age had wisened the man but taken its toll on the body, the now under pressure the former was brought into question. From the outset he was poised to lose, and yet the rigid Imperial way would not permit him to concede - would the enemy even accept surrender? Such was not even a thought upon his mind despite his infirmity. Only a handful of cruisers had been stationed at Tatooine, their names and classifications escaping the Rear Admiral's mind as his eyes grew wide. Preliminary estimates put the enemy strength at nearly one hundred and fifty thousand meters. Had he been any less in shape, it might have even triggered a heart attack in the elder man who'd grown too accustomed to a soft posting. It wasn't that Tatooine was particularly lush, little more than sand or rock, but one found themselves inundated with imports, imports of the high saturated fat variety.
Frantically he'd issued orders to the cruisers, their eyes set on forming a cordon over Mos Eisley and the nearby garrison. It was an impossible task, and as the commanders aboard the vessels raised voice to protest it was only their rigid adherence to military order that saw them carry out the orders of their ill-advised Rear Admiral. Already one of them had been lost, broken up above the atmosphere as the enemy began deploying hordes upon hordes of droid fighters from the massive Lucrehulk-class vessels that had dropped out of hyperspace. The others were putting up a fight, but there was no doubt in any of their Captain's minds that they would soon be overwhelmed by the violent onslaught of the enemy. A snort issued forth from the Rear Admirals nostrils as he watched yet another of the cruisers detonate, this time close enough to the atmosphere to hear a battery of proximity alarms - soon enough debris would crash upon the shields that had already been erected by the ground commander. His fingers poised to initiate a comm link to the ground commander, his thoughts were interrupted by an incoming transmission, he paused just long enough to redirect, accepting the signal. "This is Re..." He was cut off as the voice on the other end continued.
:: Rear Admiral Carentan, this is Rear Admiral Tarkin. We are standing by just outside the system. Requesting sitrep and approximate enemy positions. ::
An intrepid Ensign seated at the console beside the Rear Admiral began to work, his fingers moving swiftly across the console in front of him. "Belay that!" shouted the Rear Admiral, slamming his fist down. "I will not waste our efforts on a lost cause! Transmit the order to retreat, wave him off!" In stunned silence the room sat still for but a moment, the Rear Admiral's features flush with anger. "I said do it!" Again a pause - and then it happened. The Ensign tasked with the fateful order did something he would probably regret, but had he not committed he may have regretted it more. With only a handful of inputs, he uploaded the most recent telemetry on the enemy vessels, beaming the data directly back to the FIV Hammerheart. It was in direct violation of his orders, but who was the Rear Admiral to decide what their fate was. Already the Admiral was reaching for the comm, his eyes wide with fury. It had only taken him a moment to realize what the ensign had done. With one hand reaching for the console, another for the sidearm loosely strapped around his midsection, he began to draw.
"Sir, receiving telemetry now. Data uploaded to your console!"
"Acknowledged."
Eyes poring over the data, Ephraim remained unaware of what had transpired below. The fact the data was transmitted rather than a message responded to spoke to the urgency of the situation. "Two minutes on the clock. Prepare to jump the fleet, coordinates incoming." Ephraim spoke calmly, clearly. He wasn't going to let a Confederacy incursion ruffle his feathers, better to respond with steel. They would enter the fray soon enough, altogether they would make the hyperspace jump, carefully plotting a maneuver that would see them tear into the enemy fleet with violent intent. *Surprise. Speed. Violence of action.*
For the moment, at least, the coalition forces held complete control of space above the dustbowl that was Tatooine and their armada was unchallenged. A lesser admiral would be tempted to assume that the enemy was scared, that they were simply afraid of confronting the powerful force that had gathered like a murder of crows over the planet, but Wolfe knew better. The Imperials were simply organizing their counterattack and when they finally struck, the sky would light up with imperial ships. The Galactic Empire had one of the largest fleets in the galaxy and this would perhaps be one of the biggest naval battles in recent history. Good, Wolfe thought. Let them bring everthing they have.
Opening a channel, he addressed his fleet. "All ships, this is the Lord of Admirals. Charge weapons and prepare for battle. We wait for the enemy to come to us, then execute phase one," he ordered. A build-up of energy could be detected from the 1st Fleet as the ships powered up their weapons. The readings from one ship, dwarfed any of the others. Sensors across the system would light up with warnings as the massive Invictus powered up its main weapon, the dual-emitter composite beam laser which consumed a little under half of the Invictus' entire reactor capacity. The two arrays that made up the weapon, ran down almost two thirds of the entire length of the ship. The Invictus-class battlecruiser had been designed to perform one function, engage enemy capital and supercapital ships, such as other battlecruisers. Its firepower was staggering.
Down on the planet, the invasion was on schedule and the expected requests for fighter support and reconnaissance started to come in. "Pawpaw Specter, this is Alpha Wolf. I'm reassigning four TIE Reaper squadrons to your command. One of them has been instructed to perform reconnaissance flights around Mos Eisley. The enemy base should be located shortly," Wolfe said, cutting in over the conversation between Mythos and the leader of Viper Squadron.
Within moments, four squadrons of Reapers broke away from the main fleet as the other starfighters adjusted formation to plug the gap. Silver, Slasher and Blood Squadron made their way to Mythos' location, while Crimson Squadron broke up into six pairs of fighters and dived down towards Mos Eisley, piercing the atmosphere at supersonic speeds, the four S-Foils folded over the fuselage to reduce drag. A thousand meters above the city, they separated, swooping out in a spiral pattern as they began to search the city's surroundings for the enemy base, comms constantly transmitting their data back to Mythos and the fleet above. Even if any of the pairs was shot down or engaged by enemy forces, or if their communications were jammed, the invaders would know the location of the enemy base, soon enough. For the imperials, there would be no more hiding.
Allies: Confederacy and allies
Enemies: Galactic Empire and allies
Objective: Touch down Task Force Windstorm
Location: Near Mos Eisley
Why did it have to be Tatooine? The question gnawed at her mind as she sat at the rear of the craft, holding her rifle close to her with the intent of going over it's mechanics as a distraction. Looking around, eying one after another of the Task Force, she did her best not to make eye contact with the hutt in their company. She wasn't against them, far from unfamiliar with their nature and reputations, but as she heard the hutt speak there was a frustration that gripped her. For a hutt, she really didn't strike the young agent as ready for the task to come.
Violent shaking drew the brunette's attention away from the buzz of voices, Dalton's step towards the cockpit and the hutts intent to clarify her preferred name. Standing up, briefly, she looked out the viewport from where she was and with a sharp inhale she centered herself on the upcoming landing. The easy part had been getting down through the atmosphere without being shot down, getting prepared for the mission and considering everything that could possibly happen. The hard part was coming, and with a brisk ease she sat and awaited what was to come.
It was after that, all of the contemplation and consideration, that the agent gripped her rifle and watched as the craft oriented itself for a landing. And as it were it was an fairly favorable landing, the tell tale sounds of the landing gear and tension compensators a music to her ears, as she stood and listened to the captain of the craft echo his words of warning regarding their position and purpose. She didn't care for the warnings, the reminders or the musings, waiting in isolated silence as the craft's boarding ramp descended. If they were ready she would let them catch up.
She knew her job and, as she began to make her way to the waiting sand crawler, she prepped her weapon of choice.
Allies: The Galactic Empire Objectives: Military Assistance, Bounty Hunting Location:Currently, Planetside: Mos Eisely Enemies: CIS
"Did I just hear that little hologram right?" Koenrad butted in, thrusting a finger at the now disconnected holoprojector, "Are we frying slugs today?"
This was shaping up to be quite the unexpected event. First, a call demanding immediate shipment of artillery units, and then an assassination contract gone clan cleanse. He was suddenly very glad he'd brought his whole arsenal today. If they really were busting into the Desilijic palace to bust up some Hutts, even between the three of them, it was going to be more of a firefight than a controlled bounty hunt. The dangers of hunting Hutt were also in the event of their failure to kill a target. Hutt clans were known for their long grudges and bad tempers... and attempted murder was a lifetime bounty if you were ever found out to be the would-be assassin. If this was [member="Digam Merith"]'s first bounty, it was once hell of a bounty to start off on. In fact, it wasn't really the sort of job Koenrad would take if a rookie was guarding his back. Not like he had much of a choice now, though. But...
Tapping [member="Anse Tahvo"] on the upper arm, he leaned over and in a hushed voice, quiet enough to keep his words between the two of them, said, "Whaddya say we get to the palace and saddle the inquisitor with the greenhorn, and go gunning for Hutt? I don't want to get caught in a firefight with new blood over here if I don't know that he can keep himself alive as well as you or I could. Besides, together we could probably clear out that whole palace, slugs, confederates and all if we don't have to lug around fresh meat everywhere."
Side: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Objective: Task Force Windstorm (Team 3)
Enemies: The Galactic Empire & Allies
Post: 3
Gear: Personal battle armor, lightsabers, forearm needlers, wrist rockets, heavy blaster, anti armor grenades, personal body shields as well as his shield bracelet, heavy blaster carbine and ammo, assortment of alchemically treated blades hidden in different locations.
Mercifully the ship stopped its violent shakings as it cleared through the atmosphere and made its touch down. Disengaging his harness, Daxton stood up, grabbed his weapon and strode towards the landing ramp that was being lowered. All around him there was movement and sounds as the rest of the team began preparations to start the next phase.
The sandcrawlers were exactly where the advance team was supposed to have stored them. Locally sourced from a variety of contacts to disguise their purpose, the units were well disguised from the air under the desert netting and half buried with sand to further avoid detection. It would take only a few minutes to burrow them out using their powerful motors and onto the sandy surface, after all it was what they were designed for, ready to go on the mission.
Being they landed in literally the middle of nowhere, the likelihood of Imperial ambush was low, after all who in their right mind would be looking for Confederates in this heat. They were probably scrambling land and air assets right this very minute to find more info. By the time the Imperials would arrive, Daxton intended that the Confederates would be long gone.
Tapping on his combat communicator, he said, “Whiskey Tango Lead One Actual. All Leads Report.”
Gathering the team he projected a holo map of Tatooine showing the area where their craft had landed. “Ladies and Gentlemen. We have made landfall and the next stage begins. Man the scanners at all times, for those of you who can sense things through the Force do so as well. There are no friendlies in the area so its a free fire zone all around us. The crawlers have anti vehicle ordinance pods, so do t be shy in turning anything that crawls, walks or flies within our vicinity into buzzard bait. Standard triangle defense, our primary mission is to see the Hutt is alive and well to get to her coronation, we are the cornerstone of this invasion. Everything else is secondary. Meanwhile assemble your teams and get those crawlers rolling, I don’t want to here any longer than necessary.”
“We know what the mission is, everyone do their jobs and we can all go home. Its time to teach these Imps what its means to dance with the Confederacy. Good hunting to you all.”
If there were no further questions, he would dismiss them so they could organize their teams onto the respective vehicles and be on their way.
Pausing at the foot of the ramp, he bent down on one knee and took a handful of sand and let the grains slowly slip through his fingers. Thinking out loud to no one in particular, he softly said, “So much sand. Coarse, rough, irritating and it gets everywhere, the perfect weaponization of an entire world. Pity they do not understand, but I love sand.”
Taking another handful, he poured the grains carefully into a pouch on his utility belt as a good luck charm for the mission before getting onboard the crawler carrying the Hutt.
Side:Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force windstorm (Team 3) Enemies:The Galactic Empire & Allies Post: 2
He simply meditated as he listened to all that was occurring on the lander doing what he could to center and prepare himself, He listened to Kainans speech while the faction he comes from is new to him the speech was good either way. He smirked abit when he heard the song that was playing over the intercomm a little humor never hurts before a battle, He opened his dark Purple like eyes as he gazed across all that was there he took note of [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]'s interaction with [member="Scherezade deWinter"], Giving her tips and such on how to handle the battle he was confident that the young girl will do fine in this battle especially given the company that was with her where battle hardened people who will help her where they can, Besides no matter how small or frail the individual they always have a chance to surprise even the most seasoned veterans in there skill and combat and who knows perhaps this one will do like wise.
He took note [member="Dalton Kenway"] and [member="Daxton Bane"] but didn't say anything as he returned to his preparations, The genetic changes he was doing to handle the heat will take awhile but he was confident that it will be ready by the time they hand, It had to be or else he wont be much help while enduring the trials of three suns all day. The hutt they where escorting better be grateful by the time this is over they are doing alot to keep her safe in the hopes she will be a benefit for us in the long run. He stood up from his meditation as the ship made a touch down, His genetics where thankfully ready to handle tattooine as he followed Daxton and the others out of the ship and he stayed near the Hutt on the way to the crawler they will be using to travel to there objective.
Commanding Officer: General "Ser" @Aya Clarke of the "Iron Crusade"
Wearing: Knightly Armor (in sig)
Carrying: Knightly Sword, Gifted Lightsaber (both in sig)
Allegiance: CIS
Currently: On the Surface of Tattooine (Carnthout)
Post: 3
Shells from the surface continued rocketing into the air, with sizable chunks of C-9979 transports being sent tumbling through space, the silent explosions cascading across their surfaces while the General's shuttle continued its far more rapid decent towards the surface. The woman, still holding her breath with each volley that raced past, winced with each vessel that was shot on its downward path. Each ship could hold hundreds of droids, and numerous tanks, which would only make her siege of the outpost more difficult with each loss. Not to mention, there was always the possibility her organic compatriots were on board, which would make the loss far more severe. Lacking the ability to sense the Force, she only could hope the other members of the assault would make it to their meeting point at Carnthout.
Speaking of which, the woman would let out her bated breath as she broke the atmosphere, and descended to the LZ, finally beginning to feel at ease. It seemed she would be making dustdown swiftly, giving her time to assemble whatever remained of the Iron Crusade, the army she herself was in charge of. Multiple armies were being fielded today, and hers was to be the forward spearhead to test the enemy's armor, and perhaps even pierce to their soft spots.
She didn't know how to continue with the spear metaphor.
Regardless, with the hesitation appropriate for stepping out into a sandy wasteland like Tatooine, the General made her way out of the vessel, allowing it to attempt to return to space to retrieve other troops that might be transportable in this fashion. The ship was, unfortunately, shot down almost immediately, making the General quite delighted to not be shot down for once in her military career thus far. One out of three engagements, but it was a turn of luck if ever there was one. Her Goddess must be giving her feet haste to escape misfortune, especially so as the remnants of the Iron Crusade began to make landing at Carnthout. Most of the casualties were not of her command, making her forces reduced by one fifth. That meant, fortunately, the first force to engage would be rather sizable, and still ample for handling their tasks.
At her orders, the C-9979's, which held the Multi-Troop Transports and Armored Assault Tanks she would be commanding. The ships began to unload upon landing, with a tactician droid assistant approaching to give her the entire troop listing. "General, we have four fifths our forces remaining fit for combat. Our C-9979's have transported 1000 MTT's containing our B1 models, and 1000 MTT's transporting our B2 models, leaving our great force at 112 thousand and 12 thousand respectively. Our armored support has further been reduced down to a mere 2,792 AAT's fit for deployment. It is most unfortunate that we do not contain our full compliment, but we must make due."
It still astounded Aya what counted as 'most unfortunate' when considering the scale of these droid armies. Mere months ago she would consider forty thousand to be a grand army. Now she commanded well over four times that number regularly, and even this was over three times the size.. she shook her head gently and gave the droid a pat on the back (a gesture that seemed to confuse it) while she walked a bit closer to the unloading army. "It will be more than sufficient. Have the transports and tanks take up a scattered formation, the enemy will almost certainly have artillery and I do not want to lose more than we can afford. Now hurry the damn unloading up, we have quite a ways to go before we can deploy our troops fully."
She probably ought to signal the beginning of the ground operations to other members of this task force shouldn't she? She activated her helmet's encrypted comlink, and made a short broadcast to the other members of her force. "Beginning to unload for our approach on the King. Here's to a swift Checkmate, Goddess permitting. I look forward to sharing victory drinks with you all." She shut it off after, and approached an AAT towards the front of the assembling forces. Though its occupants were full, there was just enough room for her to stand around the tank's commander, who operated the main gun of the tank. With the hatch open, it left her body exposed, but it was certainly better than holding onto an external hand grip. Seated on the lip of the hatch, she waited calmly for her forces to completely unload. No use in rushing things after all..
Action Summary:
Arrived on planet's surface.
Begun unloading AAT's and MTT's
Assembling spread formation to avoid any artillery fire on approach
Army Composition:
112,000 B1 Droids (1000 MTTs)
12,000 B2 Droids (1000 MTTs)
2,792 AATs
1 General Aya Clarke
Katrine didn't pay too much attention to the Hutt's name correction though she did smirk when Pebble commented, realizing after a beat that she was speaking Huttese the way the blond knew it was supposed to be said. "Nice," she only commented before feeling the landing begin. Their touchdown was smooth as it could be, Katrine moving to her feet almost immediately, putting on her leather coat now and nodding to Pebble before she looked over the team and found Katria already readying. "Let's go," the blond quickly said to everyone. "Mimi, we have to get to the crawler," she instructed the Hutt in her own imperfect Huttese, waiting for her to make her way towards the entrance before she pulled her rifle and came out, noticing [member="Daxton Bane"] , moving over to him quickly. "We don't have time for that. The gameplan's been discussed enough, move out," she instructed him. Open space was no place to discuss.
"Keep the communication to a minimum and necessary," Katrine said next, keeoing her eyes open outward, keeping her senses on high alert. "Crawlers are waiting, get to them," she continued, moving towards it, glancing back at the Hutt as she did. She was slower than the rest of them, crawling her sluggish body down the ramp of one unit and moving further into the more covered space where it had been waiting now. "Rapax, Daxton, keep your eyes open." She wasn't foolish enough not to make use of two Elders in their mist, both of them with more experience than herself. "Katria?" She called out to her next, another advantage in their mists, though in an entirely different way. Whereas she counted on the Elders to be aware of their surroundings, she was well aware that the expert shooter could spot mouse in her path.
As she allowed the team to move over to the next transport, glancing over to the sky to see where their support was. They wouldn't landing where they had landed, that would be foolish, for sure. No, for the time being, they had to get out of here aand get out fast. Admitedly, sandcrawler transport wasn't her thing. She'd rather have been climbing and moving on her own or altertively even, change and make use of her paws but such was the plan and they needed to execute it properly. Her feet moved, taking her into the crawler stored behind the massive rock, allowing probably an illusion security for the time being. They'd be moving out soon, Mimi safely inside already.
Side: Confederacy of Independent Systems Objective: Task Force windstorm (Team 3) Enemies: The Galactic Empire & Allies Post: 3
Scherezade was dealing with some serious confusion issues. Of course, she knew generally what the plan was before they boarded, but now that they were actually here, things seemed a little bit different. Mostly, things seemed mostly wasteful. Various bits of information flashed in front of her mind, causing her to blink several times and lean against the wall for the duration of a single breath.
"Kat?" the girl asked, "why are we landing here? Why do we need to take a sandcrawler? Wouldn't it have been better to land directly next to the palace? I'm pretty sure the longer we spend on the planet, the bigger our odds are of being noticed, and the longer of a time frame we give the enemy to try and do something about us. Not to mention we're out in the open every time we move from transport to transport, during which we're also extra vulnerable to getting slugged."
Normally, she would've nearly whispered those questions. But they seemed to just pour out of her, and only after they were out did she realize that others who'd heard them might stamp her as silly or stupid. But damnit, the pebble had questions. She wasn't privy to the planning process, and she couldn't keep it anymore.
"Besides," she continued with the heat of verbal vomit, "sandcrawlers are essentially well guarded gigantic trash cans made of metal. You could easily heat them up from the outside and turn the inside into an oven without as much as wasting a single slug on whoever is inside. We're crawling targets with a bull's eye painted on our butts."
[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] | [member="Kainan Wolfe"] | [member="Darth Metus"]
@Other CIS in Vicinity of Tatooine
Gabriel bit his lip as the fleet reemerged from hyperspace, their angular bodies removing portions of space from the bridge's view. The bridge was surprisingly silent as the crew ran through every monitor with frightening alacrity; you couldn't tell that the ship was being prepared for total war. The only source of tension didn't come from himself. Glancing to his right, the captain of the ship had a frown etched on his face, his cigarette slowly burning through its final stages.
It fell to the ground, Esoryuko crunching it underfoot as he sighed. A trash droid wheeled across the pristine floor, chattering angrily at the sudden mess that had appeared.
"Why have we stopped?" he finally said, crossing his arms. The man peered through the bridge's windows, searching for something among the massive fleet. "Did we lose anybody? Jorell, ping the rest of Fifth Squadron and do a quick head cou-"
The ensign looked up from his console. "All ships present and accounted for sir. Just answered the admiral's roll call sir. Desirable just tracked a sudden increase in radiation coming from the flagship's commo arrays sir."
"Could be a tightwave beam, very hard to intercept unless you know what's going on, sir." piped up his Communications ensign, turning around in her swivel chair. Gabriel looked back at his captain, who replaced his frown with an ugly scowl. "Brooke. . .sir? Something wrong?"
He shook his head and called for the bridge to carry on with a short dismissive wave of his hand, turning to face the endless sea of space once again. Pulling out a packet, he shook the contents at Gabriel, who declined with his hand and a polite "No thank you." Esoryuko grunted and pulled a stick out, lighting the cigarette and quickly pulled a drag. The bridge smelled of mint; being closed to the source of the smell, Gabriel's sensitive nose caused him to sneeze at the sharpness of flavour, eliciting a raspy chuckle from the captain.
Waving his arms at the sight of the massive fleet, he asked his subordinate another question. "Do you see what's wrong with this entire scenario, Gabs?" He glanced at the echani, who struggled to find anything wrong with the fleet layout. Finding nothing out of place, he shook his head. "Nothing. Everything's as it should be, just like the textbook-"
Esoryuko turned around and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him excitedly with a manic look in his eyes. "Exactly! Exactly Gabriel: it's just like the bleeding textbooks!" Releasing his panicked commander, he turned around and gestured as the fleet once more initiated a jump. His shoulder's slump, his energy leaving him as quick as it possessed the captain.
"The admiral's lost his touch."
He shook his head, and chewed his cigarette nervously, the former bastion of confidence gone from the bridge, leaving behind the shell of a man.
"I think I've lost my touch."
The bridge remained silent for the rest of the journey.
Action Summary -Enroute to Tatooine via Hyperspace; following [member="Ephraim Tarkin"] 's fleet.
Objective: Provide Air Support for Ground Forces
Location: Carnthout
Allies: CIS
Enemy: Galactic Empire
Finally Jorco could be able to see some detail in the terrain as his B-Wing rushed towards the surface. Below him were the landing craft for the Strike Teams and LA-Ws. Not too much longer and the 30 ships touched down on land. No longer where they air born. Looking like little bugs from up in the sky the soldiers rushed out of there ships and onto the sandy ground. Now they were in their element, being much better suited for desert and urban warfare, perfect for this type of invasion. "G1 this is Strike Team Alpha do you read, over" The commanding officer for the POM's soldiers.
"I hear you loud and clear Strike Team Alpha, over" Jorco replied through the comms.
"We're now in route to Mos Eisley, Over." The finished, it was now finally time for Null Company to see some action. To be honest when joining the Confederacy of Independent Systems Jorco had no idea he'd be active in their wars. But here he was, being part of the charge along with [member="Aya Clarke"] and her droid army. Now on there way to the city to liberate it from the Galactic Empire.
Location: Nedjiv preparing to take off.
Allies: CIS
Enemies: GE
Objective: Set off
Aedan Miles sat on the bridge of his command ship for this fight looking out the viewport a small grin on his lips as he all but lounged in the command throne. Spread out before him was the mass of ships he was taking to assist the CIS in their newest assault against the GE. He was running a bit late but that was his normal style arrive fashionably late and exactly where your enemy did not want you to be. He stood up and strode towards the viewport stepping onto a holotransmitter so that in various areas of each ship in his force a hologram of the Pirate King appeared looking over his people before finally speaking. "My brothers and sisters, my friends, and allies. Today we set out to deal what the CIS hopes is a mortal blow to our enemy the Galactic Empire as you are well aware I can not abide by the things they allow. As such I pledge as your leader that we will grind them into dust and scatter them to the galaxy. Let them serve as a warning to every other nation out there the Pirate King and his men will not stand for this. THIS INJUSTICE MUST STOP! As we are striking out on what some would consider a crusade I am going to give us a title for ourselves it goes back to ancient times on my planet and it shall strike fear into those that know of it. We shall call ourselves the Black Knights for when Knights still existed Black Knights were known to ride forth at their pleasure doing as they please for justice. We now ride forth but not on beasts of burden but on metal war machines. Let the Galactic Empire tremble as they behold our might and let the CIS rally behind our arrival I know not what we are walking into but I have dispatched a scout who will meet us at our halfway point. As you know I do not going into anything I don't know I will not recklessly put your lives at risk. FOLLOW ME NOW MY FRIENDS FOR WE WILL ON THIS DAY LET IT BE KNOWN TO THE GALAXY THAT WE ARE HERE!" On the various ships shouts and yells of agreement could be heard as the force turned as one to jump to hyperspace his command ship at the front turning to the captain of the ship he bows politely looking the man in the eye. "I would like to give special thanks to you and your men on this ship for assisting me in this crusade. Fear not I will do everything in my power to make sure every man and woman aboard this ship returns to the TAE unharmed."
Turning back to the front he held his hand out and spoke calmly as he clenched his hand into a fist. "All ships let us set off." As they jumped to hyperspace one of his Electronic Warfare Frigates sent ahead a single message through Hyperwave transmissions. This message was sent to all CIS forces including the ground based commanders it was a simple message but with it carried hope for those who had started to lose it.
Tytos raised an eyebrow. Of course it was quite the list. Every breed of relevant scum with a name was represented. That was the point. There was nothing quite so undignified as having your plan questioned by a smuggler and the wind-up soldier that teetered in after her, or your roster decried as 'toxic.' Despite their low status, Tytos forced himself to remember that these were his equals in this matter. Well, they weren't his equals in dictating who to drum support up from, obviously. He had taken initiative on that without any consultation. And for good reason. What would happen if they let fickle things like 'morality' and 'ethics' dictate who they could deal with?
They would be marching on Bestine with the local moisture farmer's union, probably. Or the local charity. Organizations just brimming with guns and the grit to use them, no doubt. For the sake of etiquette, he decided not to say something scathing. If they ended up sabotaging these meetings... No, better to make sure everyone was assured and on board. The first negotiations of the day would be with his allies.
Yay.
"'I've promised them the same thing every criminal wants: guns, money, and assurance that their operations will carry over seamlessly into the new order of things," Tytos said. "Don't worry yourself over the details. It's all part of the plan."
Soldier Lad was speaking now, and staring at Tytos rather strongly. Tytos met the stormtrooper's gaze without much in the way of a reaction. He'd dealt with Sith Lords, he could handle some broad-shouldered bodyguard's angry eyes. That, and his guards were hanging around. It was amazing what having a dozen armed soldiers on your payroll and in the same room could do for your self-assurance. "Oh, so you will be participating. Wonderful. You'll be happy to know precautions have already been taken in that aspect. If they don't play along for want of reward, they will play along for fear of their lives."
Generosity was well and good, but it only worked half of the time. Threatening people to death, however, worked most of the time. But happy alliances lasted longer than fearful ones, so it was best to try generosity first.
Location-gareison heading to [member="Zesiro"]
Objective- defend garrison
Allies-GE zesiro
Enemies-CIS and allied forces
A whisper on the wind to her ears made her tense up if but for a second, she closed her eyes and sighed as she turned and started down for the steps heading for [member="Adron Malvern"] as she leaned in and whispered
my sister calls for me...shes not far across the base...ill leave here my apprentice to guard you
She stood and walked to [member="Seto Du Couteau"] as she stood tall before him as she spoke
you will stay here to guard moff malvern...i trust this to you as I see your ability...fail and I dare not hint what shall happen
She said and left as she walked out and grabbed a speeder as she started it and took off following her sisters force signature ever so glowing...she arrived soon as she looked around and hopped off as she was approched by a few guards who questioned her....but quickly moved when she said just who and what she was as she entered and looked around spotting her sister and walked over looking like on official business as she gave a small smile
Akabane attempted to get as far away as possible from the Hutt, choosing a vacant seat that fit the bill. On this mission, he'd do his best to protect the slug like everyone else but he preferred to keep his distance until something came up. The funny thing is the Hutt was female and he typically exhibited the qualities of a gentleman, treating every woman with the utmost respect. This experience was challenging his usual behavior however. He didn't want to admit it but Mimi was a female, therefore he had to show her some respect if he truly was a gentleman. These thoughts pained him but fortunately, the slug hadn't spoke to Akabane yet. Probably because of their distance away from eachother, and that was okay.
A song was playing over the comms, one that surprised him at first but he recognized it seconds later. I'm a Barbie girl... he thought, his hands moving to cover his eyes. Akabane felt ashamed that he knew the song. That feeling went away as he started to crack up. It was funny that they were close to the battlefield, or what could turn into one, and this silly song came on. Then, as it ended, a voice replaced the song's place. One their allies, Kainan Wolfe, delivered a brilliant speech to everyone. He wasn't sure what qualified as a good but the cheering was a good sign. The man's words empowered Akabane as he started his preparations.
He'd heard of Tatooine's harsh temperatures from the others and he didn't like sweat in his hair. Akabane loved his medium length hair, he generally took great care of it. Reaching in his coat pocket, he pulled out a hair tie while the ship entered the atmosphere. He tied his hair into a man bun. Now he could feel the burn and not get his hair as dirty.
Once the team landed Akabane rose from his seat and walked quickly to the sandcrawler. He wasn't given any direct orders so he went from the craft straight to the crawler. Using something this big was sure to attract the Galactic Empire's attention, or something else. That's when the fun would begin.
○ - Aboard the INV 'Imperial Diplomacy' - ○ CO:Chūichi Haasa, CAPT | XO: Noval Tymon, CMDR
Outer Rim | Arkanis Sector | Mara Corridor
○ - Enemies - ○
Confederacy of Independent Systems
Associated allied forces
○ - Allies - ○
Galactic Empire, the First Order
Associated allied forces
[member="Esoryuko Tobruk"] | [member="Ephraim Tarkin"]
Captain Chūichi Haasa had adopted a sort of - ceremony - to his 'morning' routine ever since he'd graduated from the Academy.
He'd reliably wake up at least fifteen minutes before his alarm, like clock-work - no pun intended. Those precious few minutes would be spent rubbing sleep from his eyes, stretching aches and stiffness out of his limbs, and going through the typical morning routine of ablutions and shaving. By the time the alarm had actually gone off he'd be finishing up his shower. Then another roughly ten minutes were spent making sure that his uniform was well-done and in order before he'd even step a single foot out of his quarters.
Barring emergencies, of course.
The whole routine would come to a close roughly about the time that the Captain had made it to the officers' mess. A trio of bright young Ensigns - from weapons, engineering, and medical - had opted to take it in turns to make sure there was a fresh pot of coffee prepped on mornings like this. That mean the hardest part of his morning breakfast was making himself a bagel to go with the steaming life-giving elixir. One of the small beauties of such a simple and well-practiced routine was that it was quite easy to interrupt it with a pressing issue and result in any delay in his response. That was the case as he was adding his sugar and creamer when the intercom came to life, "Captain Haasa for inter-ship. Captain Haasa for inter-ship channel."
With a short sigh, he made his way to a simple panel on the nearby wall: a speaker with a myriad of buttons. He clicked the one for the watch officer's console and waited to hear, "This is the bridge. Send go ahead."
"This is Haasa. What were you needing me for?"
A pause, "Sir: Comms noted some odd transmissions traffic on other lines. It sounds like the garrison at Tatooine was having issues. But we tried to reach out for a SITREP but we've received no response. You might want to come up here."
"I don't think so. Put Weapons at the bridge-watch and call for your relief. Meet me in the CIC."
"Aye, sir. I'll meet you there."
He pressed to close the channel and turned for the door.
The door to the CIC came sliding open.
"Officer on deck!" A rather stocky Operations Chief called out.
The clatter of booted feet on metal filled the room just before -
"As you were, sailors."
Chūichi hadn't meant to come across so gruff and dismissive. He made a note to watch himself better next time as the various sailors in the Combat Information Center returned to their stations. The only lull in the room had come from his entrance and not a few seconds after being dismissed back to their duties, the darkened room was abuzz with the clattering of console inputs and multiple voices coordinating efforts. Three sailors worked studiously at the tactical display board to update it with incoming information from the various stations around them while everything that they put in and more was displayed at command on the strategic plotting table in the center of the room.
A red-skinned Zabrak woman in prim Navy uniform stood at the head of the strategic table and hadn't even bothered to raise her eyes to the door when he'd walked in. Commander Noval Tymon: his executive officer and the woman who had paged him to get on the inter-ship line earlier. She was flicking a hand to glance at incoming feeds of information as she spoke, "Its not looking good, sir. Admiral Tarkin's fleet last reported possible hostile contact against the garrison and they are moving full-force to intercept. Tatooine is still not responding to hailing. We're working to get in touch with the Admiral's command to see if we can't piggy-back off their telemetry but in the meanwhile we seem stuck for options."
With his face turned away from a majority of the CIC staff, the raven-haired Captain grimaced,
"It wouldn't hurt to give me good news just once, Number One."
"Sorry, sir. but if you needed good news, the Admiralty would have issued it to you."
That managed to bring something like a laugh from him, "You put a lot of faith in the Admiral's supply officers, I see." He quickly turned about and crossed the short distance to the primary comm station where he placed a hand on the back of the posted sailor's chair while leaning forward with the other on her console desktop, "Comm. I need you to open the line."
A young sailor gave a nod, "Aye, sir."
"Open up the horn to Tatooine. Let me give it one last try."
"Aye, sir. The line is open, you have the comm."
"Tatooine garrison, this is Captain Chūichi Haasa of the INV Imperial Diplomacy. We have received contact reports from Imperial assets in your area and are requesting an immediate SITREP." Silence, "Tatooine garrison, this is Captain Haasa. Respond."
Further silence. He muttered a curse and in nearly the same breath turned to his XO, "Number Two: sound general quarters! Weapons at the ready and pilots in kit! I want you to piggy-back off the Admiral's telemetry and get us moving now."
Klaxons first started to sound throughout the halls of the 'Imperial Diplomacy'. And soon enough this was true for every vessel in the squadron. Crew rushed to get to combat positions, weapons were primed and ready and flight crews rushed to make sure their pilots and fighters alike were all at the ready. And at the same time the fleet moved to engage their hyperspace drives.
- Received distressing messages/reports from forces at/approaching Tatooine.
- Sounded general quarters/action stations throughout the squadron.
- Weapons charged and ready.
- Moving through hyperspace, en route to Tatooine.
4th Squadron, 4th Fleet - "4th of the 4th" - The Red Javelin INV 'Imperial Diplomacy'
○ - Vindicator IV-class escort cruiser
○ - 700 meters, total length
- ○ - 1x squadron, TIE/LN Mark IV starfighters
- ○ - Various non-combat/support craft
INV 'Nobleman'
○ - Vindicator II-class escort cruiser
○ - 600 meters, total length
- ○ - 1x squadron, Scimitar assault bombers
- ○ - 2x squadrons, TIE/IN Mark IV starfigthers
- ○ - 4x Sentinel transport shuttles
- ○ - Various non-combat/support craft
