You should have let me sleep (ORC raid on Dagobah, ATTN: FO, OPEN)

[Duke Dyson]

Location: Dagobah System, Hangar Bay Above Free Lothal
Ship: TR-20http://starwarsrp.net/topic/99295-tr-20-x-wing
Allies: ORC, [member="Kyle Farnes"], Alliance-In-Exile, Rogue Squadron Pilots, [member="Rayf Vigil"], [member="Ava Cartwright"]
Enemies: First Order
________________________________________________________________________________________________

Patience had become his greatest virtue, wrong. Not by a long shot. Funny enough for a period of time he had mastered the art of it in some form. Especially with all the draining hyperspace routes that by the time a ordinary pilot jumped into orbit, it could've been hours. He was very used to patience what he wasn't used to was the patience to take down a common enemy. Snaps warbles out a sound of conversation, the droid to the very least was chattery which surprisingly went well with his own silence....

Feelings aside Jax was in denial to the alliance's heavy blow. It just didn't resonate well that they were a dying breed, that the first order was out to continue their tyranny on a already broken galaxy and he simply chose not to think about it. As a rogue and as a dedicated pilot for the newly reformed alliance-in-exile, nothing made the newly promoted lieutenant happier to continue fighting for the cause that in spite of all the hardships continued to come back even stronger. As he waited in the cockpit of his TR-20, his eyes remained open and alert for anything. The call into space could come any moment now.

His preflight checklist was done so all that was left was the given indication of Commander Vigil who was still kicking, no surprise there. He was evenly so less surprised that Ava Cartwright had made it through. The fate of many rogues was still under determination but there was comfort in the fact that he would be flying among known companions even if his relationship with both was merely under work circumstances. "Rogue Six, standing by." His voice came out toneless over the comm, deciding to keep the etching excitement at bay for now.

 

[Vlannem Pox]

Location: FIV Lion, Hangar
Objective: Get Out Of Here
Allies: [member="Lucan Sirrad"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | Foudre Squadron
Enemies: [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Ava Cartwright"]
Vessel: Foudre Three, TIE-III Special Forces Fighter [X]

The hangar of the FIV Lion now was filled with activity. Engineers rushed to their posts, escorting pilots to their cockpits amongst the low, monotonous whine of the warning klaxon. [This is not a drill!] The hangar intercom crackled, [I repeat, this is not a drill, all pilots to station and ready for immediate launch!]. While most of the pilots sprinted to their positions, Flight Lieutenant Vlannem Pox sauntered towards his TIE Fighter, Foudre Three, a Bespin cigar, hanging out the corner of his mouth. The pilot lazily snatched his helm from the nearby workbench, as a technician finished disconnecting the fuel line from the hull of his vessel.

"Come on LT!" A shrill voice snapped, "We're gonna miss all the action!" Pox rolled his eyes at the source. Pilot Asa Vring always managed to get that reaction from the older pilot. While there was about five years between the two, they could no be further apart. She was green, little over eighteen, uptight and an academy brat. Pox dropped the cigar, and snuffed it with a quick stomp of his boot. Sealing his helm, he began to climb into the cockpit.

"Happy flying chief!" One of the mechanics below barked, giving him a thumbs up. Pox halfheartedly waved the man off, before sealing himself into the confines of his tomb. Vring strapped herself, and began muttering the pre-flight checks for her ordinance, while Pox began to check himself. Dampners? Check. Fuel? Check. Proton, and concussion missiles? Check. But there was one final thing that needed to be checked off. Vlannem reached to his belt, and felt around, until he found it. His palms clasping the large, square outline.

The holodisk. He smirked a little from behind the helm, and keyed in the ignition sequence. As the TIE's engines began to whine to life, Vlannem detatched the disks case from the hook which strapped it to him, and opened it. Mundane comms chatter circled around him, as Major Barnes ran rollcall, while Vlannem worked on inserting the disk, "Foudre Three, ready to rumble." Pox informed the squad leader. He now fiddled with his console, and flicked randomise.

He was immediately greeted with the sounds of Bonnie N: Disputin [Album Edition] (x). As the opening drum solo began, a voice crackled over comms. "Alright boys and girls, traffic has cleared us. Let's get cracking." Barnes snapped in his grizzled drawl. One by one, Vlannem watched as the TIE's lifted off one by one, and followed them through the airlock, and into the void. The six TIE's of Foudre, fanned out into a wedge, as they edged into space.

Vlannem watched as contacts began to fill his feed. He felt some discomfort. While L-49 had been a victory, and the stories he'd told had been legendary amongst the guys back home, he still felt a little pit in his stomach. Vlannem mightn't have been green, but, Foudre was his third squad. The others were torn up over the years. And while that was part and parcel of being a fighter pilot, it never stopped aching. And as much as kids like Asa grated on him, the kid had a life to live. And he didn't want her becoming some kind of forgotten comrade.

The commlink crackled, indicating a transmission coming not from the squad leader, but rather their home vessel, the Lion. "Foudre, this is Lion Command." A youthful, albeit stern voice, "We have a special operative, codenamed, Tonerre, operating in this theatre." Lion Command continued, "We will transmit Tonerre's coordinate, and frequency. Proceed under his instruction. Lion, out."

Vlannem assumed this Tonerre, was some kind of transport. Perhaps a troop carrier, or coaxium freighter. Instead, as he scanned his screen, he saw it was a single, TIE advanced. The situation struck Lieutenant Pox as strange. Was this man some kind of special forces? Because if so, he hadn't been expecting that.

 

[Rayf Vigil]

Allies: ORC | [member="Ava Cartwright"] | [member="Jax Rhane"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]​

Enemies: FO | [member="Suki Klev"] (eventually engaging) | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Vlannem Pox"]​

​

Hangar Bay 2​

Free Lothal​

Dagobah System​

​

"X-Wing tee-are-twenty-aurek control, clear forward, nav-con green, interval check, thrust positive and steady. Mag-cat engaged. Good hunting."

Rayf was launched from his magnetic catapult, and there was a split second of heavy Gs before he passed through the Quasar Fire's magnetic field and his inertial dampeners reasserted themselves. Rogue Leader's TR-20 howled to life, burning ahead to form the tip of a spear that consisted of eight squadrons, six from the Free Lothal and two from the Empyrean. They had been divided into two attack wings and a pair of defensive squadrons, their Roving Line's ultimate objective was to escort the Empyrean into high orbit where it could inflict the most damage on First Order infrastructure.

"All Rogues, comm check," Commander Vigil drawled over their squadron's internal frequency, "Lock s-foils into attack position."

While he listened to his pilots count themselves down, the Corellian ace caught a glimpse of flashing metal over the small green orb on his horizon called Dagobah. The Imperials were no doubt scrambling into something resembling an organized defense, although from his X-Wing's equally murky sensor readings he could tell that this system's constant barrage of sensor interference worked both ways. It was their mission to inflict as much damage as possible before the enemy could do so.

"First wing, you're with Goldie. Defensive screen until the Empyrean is in range, then break off onto search and destroy missions at Rogue Five's discretion. Second wing, form up on me. High Command wants intel on the surface, only way to get it through all this muck is a low pass sensor sweep."

 

[Zef Halo]

​

The Corellian Bolt
w/ two annoyin' kids and an old man - [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Amea Virou"], [member="Daro Tarsi"]
Land, somehow.

"Been a karkin' few years and you still ain't lost that Mando accent after all." Zef muttered back at Runi as she entered the cockpit with her loud mouth. At least the other kid wasn't as fethin' loud as she was. In reality, Zef had forgotten how foul mouthed Verin could be, she was a kid back when he met her storming Star's End. In some odd atypical to him fatherly way he was content that she was still alive.

Life in the Outer Rim wasn't easy.

"Bet you on your last salvage if the Bolt ain't the fastest freighter you been on, it really is the one that can take a karkin' hit." He slammed a finger on the sensors where First Order ships materialized. "Been passin' by these type of big fellas all my life with the Bolt." If anything got him talking more than a few words at this age - it was certainly his ship. Ain't never let him down.

Except for that one time over 30 years ago when he got interdicted by Mandalorians and made to put on the helmet, abide by the Resol'nare.

He doubted the Imperials would ever give him even a choice. It usually was lifetime prison or something.

"Tarsi, got anythin' interestin' feeds from the sensors?" Zef asked as he dived neatly towards the orbit of Dagobah and subsequently headed to the planet's surface. "Also where the heck is your girlfriend at, Runi? You spaced her or something?" The smuggler hadn't really paid attention to who came in and out of the freighter's cockpit. He was strictly staring into the viewport guiding the ship downwards.

 

[Erika Von Strauss]

Location: En Route to Dagobah from Farboon
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition and their Allies



Captain Erika Von Strauss was patrolling the outer reaches of First Order space. She was in the commander's chair of her Allegiance IV-Class Heavy Star Destroyer, the FIV Der Flugel, off to its starboard bow was a Taskmaster-Class Escort Carrier that she was able to request, due to her inability to deploy fighters with her current Flagship. Over First Order communications she heard there was a bit of a disturbance in the Dagobah system. She believed it was nothing, probably just some civilian salvagers, but she was obligated to go check. She ordered the ships to turn and enter hyperspace.

As they entered the blueish haze she ordered her crew to standby in case it wasn't really nothing. Even with a hyperdrive rating of 2.0, it would still take a bit of time to reach Dagobah. During this time spent in hyperspace she was able to learn that it wasn't anything of a small-scale disturbance, it was quite large in fact. The ORC and its allies were busy skirmishing all over the system. Now she ordered all of her gunners, senior and junior crewmen, and women to general quarters to prepare for engagement. This wasn't her first battle and she wasn't going to make it her last. She tasked one of her communications officers to tell the Taskmaster to prepare two squadrons of TIE/fo Mk III's. It would still be a while before they would reach the combat zone.

OOC:
1x Allegiance IV-Class Heavy Star Destroyer (2,000m)
1x Taskmaster-Class Escort Carrier (350m)
Meterage: 2,350m

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Allies: [member="Kyle Farnes"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Ava Cartwright"] [member="Rayf Vigil"]
Enemies: [member="Cynthia Alucard"] [member="Castor Ren"] [member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Lucan Sirrad"]
Objective: Melt some plastic boys and blow up their ships


Gil had told him that they Fleet wouldn't be participating in the battle but had left it up to the individual to leave. He'd left. With nothing but the armor on his back and a few blasters he and his Swarm-class bes'uliik had hitched a ride on the first Alliance vessel to pass by the Fleet on the way to the battle. The battle rocked the ship as stray turbolaser shots and missiles exploded around the Free Lothal. He got a few strange glances as he made his way to the hangar. He heard someone mutter something about Rogue Squadron as he ran by.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

Jak winced and gave a short mock salute as he continued on into the hangar recklessly running past droids, engineers, and other pilots to get to his droid which had a few Alliance pilots standing around it curiously muttering in basic.

<Bael,> he shouted over the ruckus of a battle ready hangar. Various lights and its photoreceptors activated, startling the small crowd gathered. With a smirk he activated his jet pack and jumped over the Alliance peeps and into the cockpit of his droid. Pre-flight checks were already underway, its wings articulating and its maneuvering jets maneuvering. Its repulsors began to lift it off the ground as its engines powered up.

"Hey! You can't just fly out of here! We've got to clear you fir-!"

Jak shrugged and rocketed out of the hangar, blowing a cloud of dust and bits into the officers of the Free Lothal, almost colliding with an Alliance Crossfire.

<Oops...> He winced and waved at the fighter as his magnetic boots clamped to the floor and mandalorian steel plates moved up to offer better protection of him. <Ready Bael, lets slag some plastic boys!>

 

[Arage Bao]

​

The Corellian Bolt
w/ two annoyin' kids and an old man - [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Amea Virou"], [member="Zef Halo"]
Land, somehow.

"Afraid to ask where ya pull dem kids out, Halo, just gotta blink and two more pop out." A lazy stretch as he pulled at his flask and took another gulp. "Didn't realize adoption paid dis well, should'a told me an' I might'a joined da scheme."

His hand flicked Zef's grimy finger away from the sensory screen, before turning slightly and pointing his finger straight up his face.

"I ain't gonna see chit with ya muddy paws scratching up da screen, besides-" Glancing back towards the screen. Very hopeless sigh as Daro shook his head. "Dis ship got like half da sensory range ya might expect, whatcha done with it, cover it in aluminium foil?" He peered at the static, tapping at it gently himself, before he started working at it again. There was only so much an outlaw tech could do, if they were trying to avoid rewiring the entire fethin' thing on-the-go.

This definitely wasn't the time for an overhaul job.

"Ya gon' pay me top bill an' I will fix dis up for ya, Zef, ya can thank me later."

The ship dove down and pierced the atmosphere moments later, causing Daro to almost lose hold of his flask and unleashing a whole swath of expletives. Until Daro realized the whiskey inside hadn't been spilled by the sudden movement. Dar coughed awkwardly, before grimacing.

"Well- gotta warn a guy, eh?" Not even an apology. Good ol' Daro Tarsi.

 

[The Private]

Location: Dagobah Base.
Objective: Engage enemy ships.

"Drive, check." He said to the flight officer as he sat in the cockpit of the First Order elite fighter.

His hands moved over the controls as he finalized preflight checks as quickly as possible. He dialed in his settings and waited for his wing persons to signal they were ready before he asked for the all clear from the flight deck.

"Flight deck, all clear for launch." He said.

"Copy, that." The flight officer confirmed, "All clear. Repeat, you are cleared for takeoff."

"Solid, copy." He confirmed as he fired his ion drives and launched. The two wing persons launched immediately after, engines humming as they soared into the atmosphere.

They made a minor trajectory adjustment as they picked up the encroaching rag tag ships and entered attack patterns.

"Cover me." He said as he began looking for the nearest targets.

"Don't break formation." He reminded his mates as they closed on the enemy ships.

"Roger, TN-0496." The two replied.



[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Kyle Farnes"] [member="Lucan Sirrad"] [member="Rayf Vigil"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Azala Kyse"] [member="Ava Cartwright"] [member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Madelyn Lowe"] [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Castor Ren"] [member="Amea Virou"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Cynthia Alucard"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="The Private"]

The Naboo light corvettes slashed through the salvage operation, heavy quad ion cannons blorping everywhere. The fast frigates dug in next with Kathol pike beams -- worthless against shielded ships, unutterably lethal against partially-disabled vessels. The less-rusty, less-independent-looking salvage boats began to shear in half, or thirds, or quarters. Jorus' ship, the light corvette D'Lessio, arced away from the violence.

"All hands, we've got TIEs coming up outta the atmosphere from the same general area as Dagobah Tech. I'm betting there's at least a prefab base down there. Comms, pass the word to the Alliance. Tactical, load some nets."

The D'Lessio accelerated toward the TIEs. Its big weapons didn't fire, for a variety of reasons. Antimissile flak peppered the oncoming fighters, probably without much impact. The idea wasn't to kill them, but to prematurely detonate any warheads they launched.

As the range closed, Jorus slewed the nimble little ship in a spiral and flung huge, electrified Conner nets off the back end.

(Comms traffic to [member="Rayf Vigil"] and [member="Kyle Farnes"] re: possible surface base location.)

 

[Erika Von Strauss]

Location: Northwestern Edge
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: ORC and its Allies
Objective: Establish Communications with other FIV's, reinforce the First Order's Naval forces already present, and scout.
Theme: (X)

​

When Erika's fleet of two exited the bluish haze of hyperspace, she ordered her communications officers to get beam transmissions with medium level encryption to the lead ships here in the system. Through the transparisteel window off to her port side, she could see that the taskmaster had done as she said. They launched all twenty-four TIE/fo Mk III's. She asked to be put in contact with each of the squad's leaders. "Pilots, for now, I only want you to scout ahead of us. Equalize power between your shields and thrusters. Only engage enemy targets if absolutely necessary. I don't need you dying on me today." She didn't know what was going on here, and she needed information as fast as she could get it, hopefully, none of those good men and women flying wouldn't need to sacrifice their lives just yet. Both squad leaders replied with a "Yes, Ma'am." Through her ship's hull, she could hear the screeching engines of the Tie fighters.

She turned to her bridge crew, "Well, what are we still doing on the edge of the system? We are here to assist, not to watch!" With that, both the FIV Der Flugel and the Taskmaster engaged their ion engines and made their slow approach to reinforce the flotilla of ships already present. The guns on her ship were already primed and ready to unleash volumes of fire on any who oppose the First Order.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Dagobah​

---

---

---

​

---

Entering System​

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Marakai Al'Orren"] | [member="Shia Kryze"]​

​

​

​

"Why are we always late to these things?!" Mishel exclaimed her hands on the backs of either pilot's seat. "What?" She looked at Mara and then groaned, "fine I'll go wake up the Selonian." The Tygaran retreated from the cockpit and headed past the now empty captain's chair. Coren had something he wanted to do with the fleet. No doubt the man was already running system's check on the Leia's lone shuttle. Mishel headed to the engine room where she found Zalav 'Lav' Senmonte, the Selonian had insisted on being added to crew since they picked up the ship back on Corellia. It was a long story and one that neither Mishel nor Shia had gotten around to telling. In fact, as Mishel waved Lav over, "master whiskers over there needs help once we get into Dagobah's system. Scattered reports of massive ships there, yeah... I know. Listen, the bigger they are, right?"

Lav rolled his eyes and headed out. Mishel followed the Selonian out and wondered just where Shia was. She knew Shia had gone back to her own ship but still the Tygaran hadn't realized she'd be the concerned one, as to where the Rattakai had gone. Not that it was a complete secret, still though Mishel wondered and worried. Once they arrived in system, Coren would head off to do his thing while they tried to find somewhere to park the Princess Leia. "Oh I do hope that Master Coren will be alright."

"Don't worry C7, he'll be fine." She reassured the protocol droid, it was then Mishel heard Mara call out for her and made her way back to the cockpit. Buckling up she readied herself for revision into the system based on the coordinates given by [member="Jorus Merrill"]. "Alright, punching in a response, okay, friendly faces know we're gonna be there real soon." An exhale as the Princess Leia powered through the last leg of the trip.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPwZaQfoIbU[/media]

 

[Runi Verin]

[SIZE=9pt]

[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=9pt]Location:[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Dagobah, Upper Atmosphere & Descending | The Corellian Bolt[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Any Landing You Walk Away From. Head to former Dagobagh Tech campus.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]ORC | [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Amea Virou"], [member="Daro Tarsi"], [member="Azala Kyse"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]First Order | [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Madelyn Lowe"], [member="Omari Vyken"], [member="Suki Klev"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Maybe some of us ain’t ashamed of where we come from an’ don’t feel the need to put on fancy airs.[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]” Runi replied without any heat behind it. She was just as much of an exile in the eyes of the Mandalorian people as the older man beside her, perhaps more so after Utapau saw her named [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Dar’Manda[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] for gutting the Empire troops that sought to board the station. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Her gaze flickered over her shoulder towards the entrance of the cockpit as she spoke, feeling Amea’s approach in the force seconds before the woman made her appearance, being unusually quiet both verbally and within the bond itself. Runi frowned slightly but turned back to watch the approach, “[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]And she’s sat right behind you, [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Ori’jag[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]. You sure you should be flyin’ with so little situational awareness?[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]”[/SIZE]

Or with someone this drunk beside you. Her nose wrinkled as she gripped on the back of the flight chair as the vessel dipped, getting an unexpected and wholly unwanted waft of Daro Tarsi in the process. She wasn’t sure if it was cheap cologne, cheaper whiskey or a combination of the two that made him smell like a poorly disinfected brewery barrel. Rashiz had spoken highly of him at one time or another, but clearly those glory years had faded as the decades and hip flasks piled on.

[SIZE=9pt]She snorted and leant back before she found herself getting drunk purely by proximity, dropping down into the empty acceleration chair beside Amea. Before the viewport the ground continued to rush up at an alarming pace, but she wasn’t overly worried despite her need to tweak Zef’s nose. The old man was one of the best pilots she knew, which considering who she hung around with, was actually pretty high acclaim. Not that she’d ever voice it aloud. “[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Just focus on gettin’ us on the ground. The Campus should be comin' up shortly, although we probably wanna put it down ‘fore that. Merrill’s info has it they’ve done some pretty nasty refurbishments lately.[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]”[/SIZE]

The vessel bucked and slowed, repulsors kicking in as it twisted towards what was hopefully a solid patch of ground stable enough to hold its weight. If not, it was going to be a very squelching landing.

 

[The Private]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

The TIEs moved in tight attack formation as they tracked the incoming ships. The iconic fighters moved in unison as if they were tethered together, military precision made manifest. The targeting computer gave IFF readouts that were anything but unified and seemed almost random. The ships weren't from one system or one registered military but a dozen or more.

"Heavy flak!" He called over the comms as blossoms of impact lit up his shields. He sure was glad they had taken the time to add those or this would be a short trip.

"Wotan weave pattern!" He shouted, as he began to follow his own orders, "Stay on that Corvette."

"Roger, Six." He heard the two wing mates reply in moments.

They wove through the flak and closed. His eyes narrowed behind the visor of his helmet as he willed his targeting computer to give him cannon range. The computer chimed as he reached optimal firing range just as the Corvette slewed around like a swoop bike that just saw a law enforcement blockade.

"BREAK, BREAK, BREAK." He called as the projectiles fired from the ship's aft and spread.

He pitched almost 90 degrees and hoped his wing men had been fast. He dodged the first net barely but it put him in a debris field that was a helluva lot more dangerous than flak. He checked his sensors and saw one of his wing mates signal turn red as he dodged his first big chunk of wreckage. His looked through every spot he could as fast as he could as he tried to get a visual on the Corvette.

"Nine, I'm engaging again." TN-0496 said, "Take port dorsal, I'm starboard ventral. Look for a crossfire."

 

[Amea Virou]

Location: Dagobah, or something
Objective: Get to Dago-baaaaah Campus.
Allies: ORC | [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Daro Tarsi"], [member="Azala Kyse"]
Enemies: First Order | [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Madelyn Lowe"], [member="Omari Vyken"], [member="Suki Klev"]

“Yeah, right here, kaheka.” Amea flared up and broke both her physical and metaphysical silence. Yet riled up was no way to be and she knew that she had to rein it in for this to work. Something about being too feely and it getting in the way? Would the others be aware of the circumstances? Maybe it didn’t matter as long as Amea kept her head in the game and focused on the road than other objections.

And it wasn’t just Runi who seemed to notice the lurid smell that enveloped the cockpit. It was hard for Amea not to react too. The chemical mixture itself seemed to invade her senses and scratch like nails against her very mind with an almost painful throb. How was it that a man who barely seemed sober and smelled like a war crime was the navigator, and why was a senile old man holding the rudder to the ship?

Amea looked over at Runi with a curious glance as to how she knew these people. Truly.

“If these two die on the job, I call dibs on the ship.” She said and leaned forward to point towards the front of the cockpit. “Is that man even sober?”

 

[Zef Halo]

​

[member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Daro Tarsi"] | [member="Amea Virou"]​

Headed down planetside.​

​

​

Zef ignored the other girl instead he was looking at poor ol' startled Daro as the smuggler engaged the thrusters rashly. A rare grin flashed on his face at the sight of that ol' fool chitting himself with his fethin' dirty canister.

"Who the feth needs sensors when I can sense you chit yourself already, ya ol' kark." That served him well for what he said earlier, the old prick. Nonetheless, Daro was right. One of the Bolt's drawbacks was its short sensor range. If the old kark could do something about - great, if not - well, he'd been piloting the Bolt alright for over thirty years now. A precious gift from an old long gone pal - Jaymes Ticon, [member="Keira"] Ticon's father.

“Is that man even sober?”

"Who said that? Is that your girlfriend spewin' chit again, Runi? This karkin' old fool ain't working right if he's sober, so pray to whatever the feth you believe in he's drunk." Zef replied with his eyes still locked at the viewport as the Bolt darted through the clouds and into the endless fog of the boggy world of Dagobah.

"Just focus on gettin’ us on the ground. The Campus should be comin' up shortly, although we probably wanna put it down ‘fore that. Merrill’s info has it they’ve done some pretty nasty refurbishments lately."

"Imperial refurbishments ain't never a good thing." The smuggler stated coldly. Grimaces darkened his face. "Have you got the coordinates, Tarsi?"

"If any one of you behind me ain't sat yet, it might be a good idea to do so. No Imperial world has ever greeted me with anything but fire."

 

[Rayf Vigil]

Allies: ORC | [member="Ava Cartwright"] | [member="Jax Rhane"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]​

Enemies: FO | [member="Suki Klev"] (eventually engaging) | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Vlannem Pox"]​

​

TR-20 X-Wing​

Alliance Recon Flight​

Dagobah​

​

"Roger that, D'Lessio," Commander Vigil drawled into his comlink, white knuckling his flight stick all the while, "Beginning our sweep over Dagobah Tech."

Rogue Leader ignored the plaintive wails of his R9 unit as best he could, down in this muck they were flying more or less entirely by scope. The Starfighter Corps had once used worlds like Dagobah and Haruun Kal as practice grounds for their pilots, and trying to make it through this atmosphere in one piece was a rough enough ride without getting shot at. With this level of turbulence, his inertial stabilizers were more or less completely ineffectual.

"I see it, R9!" he snapped, glancing worriedly over at the building master alarms on his instrument panel, "See if you can lock it down for me, huh buddy?"

They had taken a grazing shot to their starboard engine on the fast burn past Dagobah's scrambling orbital defenses. At the time Rayf had thought it was superficial, but now it seemed like the swamp world's soupy atmosphere was exacerbating the issue. His controls had begun to feel sluggish, and several times the X-Wing banked or dipped suddenly without provocation.

"Three, take lead. Need to sort out some-"

The commander slammed forward in his flight harness, nearly cracking his skull off his bird's transparisteel canopy. Master alarms filled the instrument panel, klaxons started blaring, and Vigil could barely make out through oppressive clouds the flames trailing now from his starboard engine.

"Krypter, krypter, krypter. This is Rogue Lead, am declaring a state of emergency. Gonna have to put her down in the swamp, if I can."

Faintly he could hear the whining of his remaining sublight engine under the increased air pressure of a ballistic dive. She seemed determined to fight him the whole way down.

"You still with me R9?!" he called back over his shoulder. Rayf still couldn't see anything in front of him, but his scopes told him the surface was rapidly approaching, "Hang on, buddy! Hang oooon!"

 

[Suki Klev]

Objective: FOSB recon support for military in the swamps
Gear: Standard issue blaster, 3 Vee-Ex Grenades
Droids: Infiltration Droid, Prowler
Friends: [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Omari Vyken"]
Enemies: [member="Azala Kyse"], [member="Rayf Vigil"] (SOON™) ORC and allies
Actions: Infiltration Droid heading to Dagobah Campus [member="Zef Halo"] [member="Amea Virou"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]

Suki received no response back from Omicon which unsettled her. Despite feeling as though she was at camp Splendor trudging through the muck with the promise of a barbecue at the finish line, deep fried coin-crabs waiting on the other side, it did not take long before the dark-side imbued planet began to make her feel more than a little uneasy. The agent had heard stories of an evil cave, but brushed it off as a creepy, swamp legend despite some strong intelligence to the contrary.

If memory served, Dagobah Tech was roughly five miles away, although through the thick jungle she could not even glimpse Mount Yoda. Eventually she would make her way towards the building, but for now Suki commanded the infiltration droid.

“New scouting assignment: Dagobah Tech. Routine perimeter track.” The route the infiltration droid took would help Suki navigate a path out of the humid and tangled swamp and perhaps detect remnants of either resistance or even survivors stuck in this gloomy hellscape. For now she kept the little Prowler with her, reasoning that it could be eventually sent in the opposite direction to locate Omincon if they completely fell off her radar.

But for now, another attempt at contact.

“Omincon, this is Scout Ogre. Do you copy?”

 

[Progflaw99]

​

Patrol | Sector Omicron | Objective: Recover/Salvage/Rescue​

Task Force Bogwing | 2 AT-HAT/FO walkers​

​

- - -​

​

The mechanical monstrosities behind the trooper didn't do much to dissuade the strange sense of foreboding clinging to his shoulders, sticking like a film to his armor. Between the loud methodical thudding of the walker's feet and the static over their comm line, Rolf hadn't been sure that he'd heard it the first time - but the second time he made enough of the message out to recognize they were being contacted.

“Omicron...s is... ..ut Ogre. Do you co..?”​

​

It was rough, but the experienced trooper got the gist of it. Raising a closed fist he brought his squadmates to a halt, momentarily after that the walkers too. The sounds of the swamp came rushing in like a torrential rain. Creaks and groans of endless trees, the sound of rippling water and the cries of creatures high in the canopy. If it wasn't so damn gloomy, it might actually have been relaxing. *And the stinkwater* thought Rolf. He responded, manipulating a few of the settings on the comm gear to try and get a better signal.

::Ogre, this is Task Force Bogwing. You're coming in broken and unreadable. Try boosting the gain on your comm. I say again, try boosting the gain on your comm. ::

A voice over the squad comm drew his attention, one of his junior officers relaying what the thought were two Elephoth just through the trees to their right. Turning his head to look for himself, he could faintly make out two lumbering forms through the fog. Seems they were right.

"Good. We'll hook back around to the left."​

​

In another moment they were on the move again, trudging past a few burned out carcasses of what appeared to be First Order hovertanks. It gave Rolf the willies. The close confines of a tank didn't leave much in the way of survival rates if it was disabled, and while the threat of burning alive was greatly diminished because of the durability and resistance of the First Order's armor - he wouldn't have wanted to put it to the test.

A flash and a streak of red across his visor's screen sent his eyes towards the sky. It took him a moment but when he recognized it Rolf frowned. *That shouldn't be here...* The trooper had only caught a glimpse before the small craft had disappeared on the other side of the canopy but the distinct hull design was easily recognizable. *An X-Wing.*

"Eyes open!" he shouted. "Keep your heads on swivels boys, not sure what's going on but that was an X-wing."​

​

Everyone was on edge now, and while they had all been upset at being tasked with something as rudimentary as battlefield cleanup the scent of blood was on the air (Mingled with rotting wood, swampwater, and likely the feces of over a dozen indigenous creatures). Rolf quickly eyeballed the holo-display map, trying to identify what direction the vessel was headed. To Rolf, it almost looked as if it was in distress, the small contrails of smoke suggesting not all was copacetic. *It really won't be if we find the pilot.* he thought. Sending out a transmission to Ogre, he began the task of getting not only his men but the walkers turned around. *Time to get back to base.*

::Ogre this is Bogwing. Ogre this is Bogwing. Possible hostile spotted above canopy. X-wing. Interrogative. Are you seeing any unscheduled arrivals? ::

Even as the question left his lips, another above canopy contact appeared, though garbled. The size and shape not visible, he couldn't tell what it was. If there was one fighter, there were likely more. They needed to figure out what was going on, and quick.

Engaging (Eventually): [member="Daro Tarsi"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Amea Virou"] |
Note: [member="Rayf Vigil"]

Allies: [member="Suki Klev"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | @First Order
​

 

[Progflaw99]

​

TIE Prototype, Advanced | Shadow of Dagobah​

Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Vlannem Pox"] | [member="The Private"]
Enemies: [member="Ava Cartwright"] | [member="Jax Rhane"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Mishel Noren"]
​

- - -​

​

Green arcs of laser fire strafed across the shielded hull of the Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier, Castor's fingers depressing the triggers on his controls. As expected, the Knight saw pinpricks of light returning, the vessel's point defense lasers attempting to score a hit. Peeling off to reorient himself for another run, a not so subtle alarm began to sound as the carrier began locking the TIE. "That is not what we want." muttered the Ren. Activating the afterburner and cutting a sharp turn, Castor was pressed back into his seat while the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up with the maneuver. The pilot smirked as the telltale beeping slowed, the lock successfully evaded - this time.

Another alert garnered for the pilot's attention - according to the holographic readout he was to take on a wingman or two. Displeasure made itself known via a sneer across the Knight's face. He worked best alone. *But, it's not my call.* Given the rapidly depleting salvage force below, it would serve the Supreme Leader better to consolidate, use his skills in tandem to eliminate the threat. Forcefully pressing a button on the console Castor acknowledged the assignment, automatically linking the comm frequencies and protocols as he brought his vessel around to bear once more. New contacts spattered his targeting computer, identifying several hard hits as to identity amidst the general static pushed by the planet itself. Getting a missile lock was going to be tough - it was a good thing Castor had become an able pilot. Lasers were on the docket for the day.

Increasing his speed, Castor gave a silent command to his new additions to form on his wing: Attack Formation Echo-3. Setting his sights towards the Carrier, he noticed a string of fighters belched forth. *Look who came out to play.* Seconds passed as Castor closed the distance, settling beneath the dorsal plane of the Free Lothal. Like a hawk selecting prey, he watched - identifying the various fighters... and... *A Bes'uliik?* Confusion clouded Castor's thoughts. If the Mandalorians were involved... He packed away the information for later. Right now, he had greater concerns. As he came in fast, Castor let loose a barrage of laser fire towards the unorthodox fighter ([member="Jak Cadera"]). Descending closer to the fighters in the lead, he continued firing, laser cannons on the verge of overheating before he cut off again, intent on returning for another run. His wingmates, if intuitive, should have done the same but Castor wasn't going to babysit them.

 

[Duke Dyson]

Location: Dagobah System
Ship: TR-20http://starwarsrp.net/topic/99295-tr-20-x-wing
Allies: [member="Ava Cartwright"], [member="Rayf Vigil"], [member="Kyle Farnes"], [member="Jak Cadera"], [member="Jorus Merrill"]
Enemies: [member="Castor Ren"], [member="Vlannem Pox"], [member="The Private"]
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Jax's X-Wing hurled into space making way for the void and a vast array of stars that were overshadowed by substantial amount of heavy fire, gripping the yoke of his fighter he pressed the buttons indicating towards his s-foils locked in and followed suit in Rogue Five ([member="Ava Cartwright"]'s formation) maintaining sights all around for enemy fighters. Both causes of conflict already were clashing with one another so his scanners were on the blips all around within a ponderous battle-zone. Snaps warbled something relevant to indicate a warning ; looking to his right he catched immediate sight of the incoming TIES just as Jorus Merrill sent out his own words of peril against the enemy. "I see 'em!"

He wasn't sure wether feeling excited and a wave of panic at the same time was even possible but it was safe bet to say that both odds were fifty-fifty. "Contact, enemy fighters coming in --- three marks at one-two zero!" He hollered over the commlink towards the allied fighters in his scope. Breaking off from the assigned formation, he made time to avoid the barrage of green laser fire that rained down upon them in all it's wrath. "Power up those rear deflectors snaps, We're going for a ride!" Kicking on the pedals, he made a accelerated roll towards the TIEs in a attempt to steer them off course that was probably a suicide mission give or take he would be ideally outnumbered.

"On your flank six!" Came in the sudden voice of a youthful sounding pilot (Rogue Nine) with just as much sheer will that Jax silently took as a sign of gratitude but also stupid recklessness. The Rogues went above and beyond for their own that way so he just had to deal with it, then again he could somewhat resonate considering that not to long ago he was a rookie himself making brash choices.. Take the one he was making now for instance.

Jax's eyes now showed an almost maniacal intent as he concentrated on the enemy fighters in his scope. The red blips in his sights buzzed all around until it finally directed it's focus on a singular target. I got you now, bastards ... his gloved thumb presses on the trigger with force, firing up a reply with his own laser fire in the direction of the TIES that chose to not follow their master out of the ongoing blaze.