When worlds collide (Galactic Alliance v Primeval)

[Jsc]

Red Catholic Skies
Skirmish over the Prime's Cathedral Fortress

Tango Squad came over the black volcanic rise and watched the red magma flaring. These GA X-Wings were ready to smash some heads. Alas, late to the party Sam could only frown. It appeared they had started the fireworks without her. How rude.

"Tango Squad. Move to Double Echelon. Prepared to scatter the enemy birds. Keeping it two by two and watch those towers people. Here we go!"

Sam clutched her rudder tighter as the Squad leader prepped them for the fight. They shifted formation and burned up higher into the clouds. Then came streaking down upon the Prime defenses with glee and gusto. Wat wat wat. Cannons roaring. To note, Roberts was playing wingman to a one L. Cody today. So when he picked up an enemy fighter and began the chase, Sam was right behind him to keep his tail clear. It was time for dat good ol' fashioned pew pew pew again. X-Wing style.

 

[Chevu Visz]

Objecitve: Defend the artifact, protect alliance scientists
Location: Science facility on Sullust
Allies: [member="Peyton Steele"]
Enemies: [member="Grimoire "][member="Raziel"]

She felt it like a cold wind, the disruption in the Force when the enemy landed. They were Harbingers of the Dark Side, and their destructive energy bled into the Light Side like a dripping wound. It was only a matter of time before the dark tide inexorably washed over the land, seeking to destroy the brittle skeletons of what the Galactic Alliance had only just begun to build. Chevu slammed her trembling fist down on the table, then cast a sheepish glance at Peyton. She was supposed to epitomize calm and serenity in the face of the imminent threat, and was failing miserably. Plus, Master Oomomo had warned against forming attachments. Like the one you're beginning to nuture for Miss Steele, Chev? Strike two.

Chevu tried to call on him in her mind, hoping that lying in his sleeper in Pirin, the elder Sullustan was still well enough to answer her back. Master Oomomo, why did you thrust me into this position? I'm not sure I'm ready. My courage is fugitive. How am I supposed to be an instrument of the Force when I can barely hold it together?

She heard no familiar whisper pierce her mind, which probably meant that he was suffering, perhaps even dying. Her eyes brimmed with tears. By the Maker, don't lose it now. Chevu gripped her lightsaber pommel, her knuckles white.

"They're here," she said, wishing she had even an ounce more confidence in her voice.

 

[Veino Garn]

[member="Damien Daemon"]

"You seem a worthy opponent! Will you be my challenge on this planet?"

Veino stopped and turned around in the hallway, studying the man. He was master, by the feel of it, and dark. Not quite the same as a Sith though, so that was interesting. Veino had no desire to be caught in a meaningless duel as a competition. Not when there was a chance for the artifact of falling into the wrong hands, but the man seemed too dangerous to be left wandering around on his own. He could end up hurting himself, after all. Veino took a deep breath and placed his helmet on. So be it. He had his durasteel spheres and his lightsaber. Those were the only weapons he needed, though he noted quite a few on the man's person. Entirely possible for him to have a great deal of tricks up his sleeve. An AEL gun-belt by the looks of it as well. The man had money in that case then.

And was not a murderous psychopath either, given by how he ignored Alliance personnel who were scrambling away from the impending duel. He couldn't blame them and it made it easier for himself. He grabbed his lightsaber and held it loosely in his hand. Looked like the man had three blasters, a lightsaber, and he couldn't tell what was in the belt. If it was an AEL one, and the one Veino almost sold his soul to purchase (metaphorically speaking), there was nothing he could do to those either. Well, pelt them with metal spheres to get them to detonate, but he'd have to guess at which was which.

He shifted his stance, still keeping his blade deactivated.

"If there is no other way to keep you from proceeding, then yes. I shall be your challenger." He tilted his head slightly, paused to wonder if it was visible through his helmet, and added. "Unless you'd prefer a challenge of games?"

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth stood at the flight line, yelling at a droid. Specifically, his droid M1-C3. The droid refused to get involved, beeping something he couldn't understand. He bit his lip and took a deep breath, pushing away the stabbing pains of deep betrayal. He had a battle to fight and fighters to take hold of as his pilots straggled in. He had managed to get his ships together and in a line, which had been hectic. But he had it. Two K-Wings and three B-wings loaded with heavy arsenal, a handful of X-Wings and E-Wings, and even two of the Protectorate Paladins. A motley crew to be sure, but it gave them the flexibility and, more importantly, the firepower to hit that battleship hard and leave it, and as many Primeval troops as possible, stranded on a hostile volcanic planet. Wouldn't that be exciting?

He'd take lead in one of the K-Wings, with one of the other Force sensitives as pilot, as a way to help keep the less than acrobatic craft alive. The rest would filter around in the rest, with a few serving as gunners in the K-Wings and B-WIngs. He nodded as they approached and ran to their ships. When everyone had arrived, Roth gave one last sad look to M1-C3 and clambered into his ship, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. Who knew such a refusal could hurt so much?

So be it. He strapped himself into the seat and powered up the engines, listening as his squadron checked in. They were good to clear and cleared for takeoff. He pushed the stick down a ways and sent the ship lumbering forward. Far less maneuverable than what he preferred to use, but it functioned better in this role. The sides of the launch tube sped by in a gray blur before catapulting him out into the fiery skies.

"All flights, check in," He said, adjusting some of his controls and setting a waypoint to their target. "Objective is to destroy all Primeval troops we fly over and cripple their deployed battleship." He listened as they all checked in and then set the command to fly towards their target. Ground raced by beneath them as they screamed through the atmosphere like some lumbering bird of prey with some less cumbersome birds of prey flying along aside as escorts.

He studied the tactical info. Tango squad, with their newer recruits were already there. Hopefully they would last long enough for the heavy firepower to show up.

"Tango lead, Wild Knights inbound to your location. ETA twenty minutes."

[member="Samantha Roberts"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The Primeval Fleet was located. Coren was leading the squadron, riding in as Ray One. He missed Warbird Wing, they were pilots he knew, but they weren’t ready to join the Alliance, they didn’t need to. Coren would pull them in when it was time, but now? He wanted to expand the knowledge in the galaxy. Pilot-soldiers, that was what he needed. Should it come around to it, he’d be able to turn his X-Wing back planetside.

And maybe trade it in for an E-Wing.

Stalling tactics, that was what he need here. Looking on the radar, while he was getting affirmatives from his squad, the upgraded R6-to-R9, Arnine was in the slot behind him, feeding him data about the Primeval fleet, and the friendly fighters that were up in the sky, behind Ray Squadron.

Switching to his tactical comms, he contacted the Tyrene. “Rook, you see shots you take them, Tyrene will keep you just in range of your firing solution.” Swapping again, he switched channels to get all the fighters. “Sullust fighter support, this is Hornet,” an old moniker resulting from a penchant for boosting speed over shield strength and taking the fight to the enemy in whatever he was flying. “Take the fight to them, don’t let anything through.” No ion cannon here.

“Rays, we’re going for the shuttles. Odds, you’re on point, evens, you’ve got the tails.” Simple enough call.

[member="Rook"]
[member="Roth Tillian"]
[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Matreya]

Damien took a step forward, almost completing it, when he was caught off guard and retreated the step he had came. He cocked a head, his helmet made a clack sound from its hanging position against his hip where it hung from his belt. The man was into games...?

Damien felt himself grow irritable, and yet he fought the swift annoyance down, "What types of games?" He called as he began to rub his chin, mulling the chance to compete over. How had he known that Damien was a competitor? "If I agree though, and you cheat in any way, know that your death will be swift and painful!"

[member="Veino Garn"]

 

[Jsc]

Twenty Minutes
w [member="Roth Tillian"]

"Wild Knight this is Tango Leader. Roger on your your approach. Let's hustle people. Give me twenty minutes and I'll be just finishing up around here. Ha."

Sam smiled as Lead chuckled. Twenty minutes was murder. To note, flak was heavy from the fortress she had to skim and circle. Fired off her torpedoes from range and crossed her fingers they found something crunchy to bite into down there. Cody was doing the same,

"Four" Cody cut in, "How we doing?"

"Golden Three. You?"

"I just spotted an escort up there. I'm going for it. Cover me."

"Coming around to your six, Three. Slow by two and I'll be right there."

"Hurry up gal. I'm in a rush today."

"Ha! Let's see somebody cover you when your too busy to listen. I'm coming, I'm coming."

L. Cody and Roberts banked away from the Fortress and went higher to play with the strike fighters and escorts. Meh. She was out of torpedoes anyway.

...

 

[Roth Tillian]

[member="Samantha Roberts"]

Roth checked his scanners again as the replies came in, They were right. Twenty minutes was murder, especially against a ship of that size and assorted ground elements associated with it. The K-Wings were not as fast as the other ones, especially loaded down as they were with heavy ordinance. He took a deep breath. There was another option. Not an ideal one, but it was doable. He switched to his squadron comm.

"Escorts, afterburn to the ship and assist Tango Squadron. They're in some trouble up there." He could feel the surprise from his bombardier and the other bomber pilots. Bombers without escorts? In K-Wings and B-Wings? What madness was that? They couldn't even get close to the maneuverability of most TIEs.

"Roth, are you insane?" That was his bombardier.

"Negative, Kan." Roth replied, pushing the accelerator as far as it would go. "Making sure to support our comrades here. No hostiles nearby yet." He could sense the disapproval, but he didn't argue anymore. The escort fighters screamed past him, leaving their contrails trailing off into the distance.

"Tango Lead, Wild Knight escorts ETA your location in five minutes. Heavy ordinance aiming for 14." That would be cutting it close, but that was about as much as they could manage at the moment. It was a shame they did not have a faster bomber yet. Those would be very nice. Sort of a strike-bomber.


[member="Samantha Roberts"]

 

[Adele Adonai]

“You will find only what you bring in.”​

– Yoda​

Within one of the vast meditation halls of a Galactic Alliance's capital ships, Jedi Knight A'dele Adonnai's listless pale blue eyes would stare out of a nearby view port. She had yet to settle into her meditation, into the position that would aide the Alliance and set them at ease. Everything had a time and a purpose.

Soon, yes. Would she soon face that which she had felt not long ago? The vestiges of that dark pulsing power that had threatened her mind? Her brow would furrow in a rare show of concern. Lips would draw thin.

What manner of thoughts would drift behind her eyes were cast aside. With a flutter of cloth and a turn of her foot, the Iridonian would make way to the center of the room. There, she gracefully set herself down in a seiza position.

Soon, it would begin.