Finding a ship, looking to kill an admiral...
Allies: [member="Judas Foster"] │ [member="Julian Valentine"] │ [member="Faye"] │ @A'lah The Green One
Foes: [member="Ras Val'kor"] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Darth Arabris"] │ @Amun │ [member="Nixia Amabilia"] │ [member="Garen Kalkat"] │ [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
Aging, but brutal; The Technicolor Beat was a weapon to be feared by fleets far and wide, amplified by the raunchy reputation of its owner. The armament of the ship was enough to take down ships without reprieve, with three thousand meters of hedonistic anger focused through thirty guns orientated on its front end. It was these axial weapons that made it legendary, and what it had been looking to aim at the fleet that interdicted her.
That was until the Ablution jumped in front of its firing arc, forcing a recalculation by the ship’s AI. Although the other battlecruiser in the area was a significant threat to the beat, it knew just as well that it couldn’t take on any further reinforcements; meaning that this new contender had to be taken care of right away.
As commands went through, and the already charged weaponry began to spool and charge, four massive laser cannons tore through the darkness to meet the Technicolor Beat’s bridge. Shields roared to life as the Delphus internals were strained to compensate, only to fail after the immense strain. The ending laser shot slapped against the bridge’s armor, shredding it with extreme prejudice, forcing numerous levels near the bridge to lock their bulkheads; though despite its destruction, the lack of a crew on board saved the ship for the time being.
The bridge was nothing more than a comfort station for its captain, though he’d certainly be annoyed his velvet throne was now gone.
Numerous commands finalized as Cybele turned her full macro attention to this new contender, aiming up the guns that had originally been intended for that which was captained by Garen. As the shots lined up with the precision only a massive combat AI could, the weapons began to enact revenge for what had been sent their way.
As a trumpet that sounded absolution and the end of days, The Technicolor Beat made a symphony of destruction as the proton beam cannon that served as its main weapon sent its energy through focusing crystals situated around the vessel. Its entire frame shook as much as it had when it had been hit, and the reactors went to their limits to compensate. Zero Point energy filled its metallic core with proverbial adrenaline, allowing its nearly endless resources of power to be sent outwards through the hammer of anger.
The void of space came to life as the beam fired, sending outwards an almost unmeasurable amount of power; threatening to compromise the silence of space with nothing more than its endless prowess. It took only an instant to cover the few kilometer distance between the two ships, but it would hit with the force of a ship many times its size.
Engines ceased as the ship began to stall; a result of how much power had gone into firing its main weapon. Although capacitors kept the shields up for the time being, the entire vessel began to go dark for the few moments it’d take to reboot the systems and refill the various banks that kept the ship running at all times.
The orchestra of Armageddon known as The Technicolor Beat went silent, if only for a moment.
[member="Vanessa Vantai"] │ [member="Garen Kalkat"]
---
As the ship shook, The Slave gripped the wall to support himself, more focused on what bothered his mind than what bothered his balance. Battle droids ran past the two as he kept his jaw tight, no doubt their goal was to end the riot within the core. In truth, The Slave only kept people aboard as a means of stress relief when he came back from his mission aboard the next dreadnaught that had showed up in his space, but now they served nothing more than to anger the already bothered sith.
As the situation grew, and Atlas fed off the anger deep below, it was The Slave who grew his own to unreasonable amounts. The world had turned on him, fate itself had reared its ugly head and sent him on the brink of absolute destruction; and in some sense it was karma. From all he had done, from destroying and maiming the galaxies people, it was only right that he too would feel what the force would enact on its subjects when it saw fit.
Gritting his teeth and lifting himself back up, he continued on his way. He held a finger to his ear and began to speak to the few who had called upon him;
“Everyone should move to the hangar. Find and kill everyone on board; I don’t care who they are anymore.”, he said as a darkness grew in both his tone and stance.
The blast door before them opened with a depressurizing hiss, allowing yet another group of droids to move in contrast to them, leaving the hangar while the two moved into it. Inside, there were numerous civilian ships, and even a few that could easily have been powerful military ones, but none of them had pilots nor people on board. The entire hangar had been cleared but by a few straggling sentries and patrols.
Walking up to what could only have been a boarding craft, The Slave moved up to a computer next to it, turning his back to Atlas to type in this command and that. Checking fuel levels, disengaging magnetic docking locks, and opening the ship’s door.
Glancing over his shoulder, he offered Atlas a cold glance;
“
You coming?”
[member="Atlas Kane"]
---
Breach on Level 3A.
Cybele’s internal processors sighed as yet another warning came forth. Between Adrian and his crew soon to meet resistance from South Star’s, yet another group had managed to peel back the matrix armor and press inwards. With the riot and the main boarding parties in the hangar, there wasn’t any local forces that could respond; at least for the moment.
Instead, Cybele would let them push in a few further hallways, watching their every step as the pushed farther and farther into her depths. She was sure there would be a mixture of feelings, from security from the lack of resistance, to even stalwart paranoia that nothing was to come; but even with all that in mind she minded only enough to activate the security system when they had placed themselves in a hallway that would allow for it.
Two Hellfire rotaries dropped from the ceiling and began to spool and fire at the group; one from the front, and one from the back. In a moments notice, hundreds of rounds filled the air; nothing but the horrendous sound of the motors keeping the guns spinning and shots rained down on the group.
Still, the hallway had numerous doors they could escape into. Cybele locked what she could, sealing what she couldn’t with a vacuum, and hoped it would be enough to stop the situation before it escalated. Initial predictions of their paths seemed they were after the engineering core; and Cybele knew she couldn’t allow them to get there.
[member="Atlas Kane"]
