Kuat's Open Orbit

Finishing off the chestnut coloured fluid that had remained in the ceramic cup, Captain Aximand watched the shimmering image slowly revolve before him. With the arrival of the Republic ships taking the forefront thought in his mind, Logan couldn’t believe that he had missed one of the newest arrivals. The ship was in keeping with the aged Imperial styles of yester year, and from the data he was able to extract had foretold that its occupants might be of the same nature. While the passenger manifest was sealed behind several layers of old imperial code, the Captain smiled at seeing a familiar sight in these infinite waters. Following through with the feeling of intent, he keyed in a sequence of commands into the strategium’s command console. With a gentle purr echoing from the oval terminal, the image of the Kuat sector dissolved and was replaced by the interior of the lambda class shuttle. Appearing to the occupants as nothing more than a disembodied head with imperial-esque shoulder flashes signifying his rank, Captain Aximand addressed the newcomers with his smooth Imperial accent echoing from the small craft’s speakers.

Forgive my tardiness in regarding your vessel, as you can no doubt see things have been alittle hectic. If you would be so kind, please transmit your IFF transponders to my ship, the ‘Black Caisson.’ He paused for a moment to double check the readout on his terminal, only to turn back with a slight smile curling upon his lips.  I see that your shuttle bears the old codes of the Imperial Remnant, thus you must be familiar with my face. I am Captain Logan Aximand, formerly the commanding officer of the INV ‘Avenger’ before the collapse. He paused for a moment to consider why a shuttle filled with unconfirmed occupants, bearing the old imperial codes had jumped into the system. Being such a small craft, it would be blown from the sky if there was even a hint of treachery. Bearing that in mind, the captain knew that a single shuttle filled with Mandalorian Supercommandos would be able to disable a large portion of the drive yards and their defenders before they would be neutralized.  Might I know the names and face of your commanding officer?



The ensign listened with vaunted interest as the republic admiral prattled on about the designations of his combat effective fighter squadrons and their larger escort counter-parts. The young man had to bite his tongue as some of the name played through his headset and scrolled across the screen before him. They were not the more blunt and straight forward squadron names he was used to, being a former imperial officer and all. It was under his assumption that the Republic had retained their more primitive usage of colours to designate their fighter wings. As the Admiral had so clearly explained, such a thing was of the past.  Designations received and understood, ‘Gospodar’s might’, thank you for your compliance.  Pausing for a moment to expedient the flow of information toward his commander’s tactical display, the ensign returned to the conversation at hand. The absence of his voice had been but a fleeting moment, as if he had muted the sound on his end to stifle a cough. Before he had begun speaking into his headset once more, the ensign ensured that the channel was secure. Filtering out any outside connections and flooding them with white noise. Once he was satisfied with his work, the young man re-opened the channel.

  Kuat’s defense network is divided into six sectors. One, three and five are heavily mined with proton charges; while two, four and six are blockaded by cloaked asteroids. Be wary as you approach the northern pole of the system as you’ll be crossing the void inhabited by our improvised asteroid belt. The ensign dragged the information from his terminal and sent it along the encrypted channel, displaying the revised locations of the outer tier of Kuat’s defense. As that information was needed for the republic taskforce to make headway into the Kuati sector, his commander had approved of his actions and commended the young imperial with a terse nod.   The orbital defense network won’t be an issue as your vessels make their way towards the pole, broadcasting your IFF transponder has made every vessel in your flotilla tag as friendly targets. Details on what said network contains however, are sadly classified.



With the latest readings from his sensors being displayed upon his dataslate, as the Captain was using the terminal for what seemed like a personal transmission, Commander Borodin had noted that something new had drawn his attention. One by one, translation breaches were detected upon the edge of the system, heralding the arrival of honoured friends or hated foes. Unsure of which, the executive officer tasked his vessel’s sensorium suite to focus its sweeps in the direction these sunderings of realspace had been recorded. Cocking an eyebrow at the information he had seen, as it scrolled along the length of the dataslate, Borodin had a feeling that these new arrivals would announce themselves as allies. The classifications of their snub fighters had suited a more Republican style, than recorded engagements with the zealous crusaders. The commander had doubted that this Taung H’rel would debase his warrior heritage and use such an awkwardly designed fighter, when the Bes'uliik was a tried and tested model made for his religious zealots.

As he looked through the details of the of the crossfire schematic, Borodin had noticed that they had requested to establish communications. Looking to see his comms officer already engrossed in a conversation with the Republic taskforce, the executive officer stole a headset from the tactical display and responded.  Pariah One, this is Commander Borodin of the ‘Black Caisson.’ We are honoured that the Jedi have responded so quickly to our request for aid and welcome you to Kuat. Sadly the conditions are not what they should be when welcoming a friend. Distracted, the Kuati officer paused for a moment. His gruff and heavily accented voice slowly began to die off, as the sounds of flesh stabbing at the command keys of a console. It seemed more of these Jedi fighters had arrived in system, and the Commander was starting to think that soon Kuat would play host to the entire Jedi Order. Borodin smiled at the thought of having hundreds of lightsaber wielding meatshields standing between him and the relentless advance of the mandalorian crusaders. Though he doubted such an event would occur, it was still a pleasurable thought.

 The information I am about to send you will be transmitted to your newly arrived comrades as well. The packet contains detailed schematics of the outer tiers of Kuat’s defenses and the current strength and IFF transponders of the flotilla in orbit. As you have answered our call for aid in regards to the non-combatants, I have plotted a course through our picket lines for you to use at your discretion. The residential area has been highlighted so that you may proceed with your task of providing cover for the evacuation efforts. ‘Black Caisson,’ over and out.

Another small craft, a beaten, black YT-1300 that was probably not of much note to any of the surrounding craft, exited hyperspace as well.
Zulu stood in the cockpit, facing the viewport. He placed a hand on the console directly infront of it, wiping the dust off of his scanner screen. An ally of his, Kray Kutler, who sat in a swiveling chair nearby, made an obvious observation regarding the surrounding craft and the radar.
"There's so many of them," he stated blankly.
"They're probably planning an invasion," another voice said. Ti'iro Menda walked out of the crew quarters, brushing off his white jumpsuit by hand.
"I can tell that some of these craft are Mado'ade. And they're clearly combat-grade. We all know how Mandolorians are. We ARE Mandolorians," Zulu added clearly. "Everyone get ready, we're going boots-on-the-ground."
The YT-1300 buzzed past the larger craft like an insect, a fly compared to the mammoths that surrounded it. Zulu hoped that nobody would care enough to notice it, or at least believe they were a part of the invasion force. Suddenly, something else showed up on Zulu's scanners.
"What's that?" he asked, squinting.
In a loud bang, the ship lost balance and began to hurtle toward the planet, spinning out of control. Its crew members scurried for cover.
"Get into your armor!" Ti'iro yelled, pressing a button on his backpack. The pack folded into a black suit of armor that enveloped him, slim katarn commando armor, vaccum sealed and airtight. The other soldiers did the same, along with the silent Di'iro Menda, Ti'iro's brother.
As the ship continued to fall, flat bottom first, Zulu stumbled back into the cockpit and tried to safely maneuver his freighter to the ground. The craft hadn't struck atmosphere yet, but the gravity well was taking over quickly.
He opened up a small hinged cover on the panel, revealing a red button. Quickly, the man pressed his thumb against it, and the artaficial gravity inside the craft disappeared. He was relieved, if only slightly so, by this. At least he and his men wouldn't be ripped in half by the opposing gravity if the ship turned lopsided.
"Dammit man, let me do this!" Kray yelled through his Katarn helmet's vocoder and over the sound of alarms blaring in the cockpit, swimming through the air toward the viewport. Zulu gently pushed his legs off the ground and hovered backward as the engineer took hold of the levers jutting out of the pilot's panel.
The Justice and her crew were sitting ducks as they descended helplessly toward the planet.

"Alright, listen up." Ander barked as he sat down on a durasteel packing crate in front of 2nd Battalion's Commandos. He dropped his helmet onto the deck at his feet and pulled a cigarette from a pack in his pocket. His son, Calo, leaned forward with a small torch, striking it and lighting the tobacco as Ander drew smoke into his lungs. Tendrils leaked from his nostrils as he exhaled, looking around to ensure 2nd Battalion's leadership were all accounted for.
"This is what's going to happen. Kuat's the target, specifically the shipyards and a large military compound on the surface, run by Dark Tide's Mistress Sinistra called the Estate of the Ten." Ander withdrew a holo-pad from a belt pouch and tossed it onto the deck before him, where it stuck with a clack. The 'pad blinked once as it turned on, then generated an expanded view of the planet, which hovered in the air. "We've got two main mission objectives: shipyards first, dirtside second. The fleet will act in support of our Mandalorian allies who will be working to take the shipyards. Taung H'rel's scouting forces picked up on four separate shielding systems being emitted from different sectors of the yards. The main objective is to destroy the shields protecting the station, and cripple then cripple their building capacity. We'll be landing onto the shipyards in these three areas--" As he spoke, he manipulated the datapad in his hand to outline two sections of the shipyards orbiting Kuat, marking broadly where the four shield generators appeared to be located. The intelligence wasn't exact, considering the scouting operation had taken place further away from the planet than they all would have liked, but the readings were close enough. The likeliest of locations based on the information at the time made those locations Sections 1, 2, 3, and 7. Ander drew from his cigarette again and used his datapad to alter the holographic display.

The planet disappeared from view, replaced by a schematic image of the circular shipyards. The outline of the shipyards was in blue, with sections 1, 2, 3 and 7 marked with red squares. "We'll be inserting Fourth Battalion in three different locations. Our objectives are generators One, Two, and Seven only. They have been designated as OB-One, Two and Seven, respectively. The Mandalorian Clan forces will help with these, but their main objective will be the shield generator at OB-Three. Jig Company's target is OB-One, King's is OB-Two, and Love's is OB-Seven." Ander again manipulated the display, marking the insertion points with yellow triangles. "All sections of the station are designated in their primary numbers, followed by a secondary number that marks their position from Section One, going clockwise. Jig's primary insertion point is Section One-One-Nine, the warehouse attached to OB-One. Love's primary insertion point is Section One-Two-Four. Jig and Love share secondary insertion points at Section One-Zero-Four, the drydocks South of Section One. King's primary insertion point is Section One-Five, the commercial zone West of OB-Two. Secondary insertion is at Section One-Four-Two, the apartments attached to the commercial zone."
Ander looked up briefly to ensure his leaders were following along, then glanced back to the display and manipulated it to focus in on OB-One. "Jig Company will insert at Section One-One-Nine, the warehouse, like I said. They will make their way North to OB-One and secure the area at the squad-level. Then they will lock down the Section manually and plant explosives on the shield generator. Barring any interruptions, they will then make their way to the extraction point. Primary exfill points are the same as primary insertion points. Secondary exfill points are opposite of their primaries. You get jumped by Kuat forces on your way out, run the other way. You'll get picked up by your Larties and brought back to the Hand."
Ander looked up at Captain Edd Yult, Jig Company's CO. The man nodded, expressing his understanding. He then looked over at William Fallnot, Love Company's Captain. "You'll take your boys in the same manner, heading East from Insertion Point One-Two-Four to OB-Seven. Clear by squads, secure the area, plant the explosives, and exfill where you inserted." Captain Fallnot nodded solemnly, the Mandalorian-born soldier rarely having a word to say. Ander looked lastly to King Company's Captain, Jules Frisk. "Frisk, you know the rest." The man grinned, then pulled his helmet over his head, hiding his boyish face. Ander took a drag of his cigarette and closed up the holo-pad and returned it to its pouch on his belt. He spoke now to the entire Brigade leadership, all the Company Commanders, First Sergents and anyone else who was listening in. "Second Battalion is on Quick Response Force, First Battalion is on Boarding Ops. Third Battalion will standby for Refill. These tasks are to be undertaken at the Company level, so make sure your boys know what's going on. The fleet will be focusing firepower on hostile warships in orbit. Scouts report they have Golan Defense Platforms located at the planet's poles, but we'll be well out of range for the time being. Ground operations will not begin until the orbital battle has been concluded and Fourth Battalion has destroyed the shield generators. If we're successful in accomplishing both of these objectives, we'll regroup in orbit for refit and I'll put out the OPORD for the ground assault. Until then, here's a FRAGO: The main Mandalorian Clan force will be assaulting the Estate, GALSAF will be clearing out Kuat City and setting up a Forward Operations Base there to support the assault. We'll be going in with the Mandalorians, but we're striking first. We want them to have the support they'll need because defenses at the Estate will be expansive. Once we've established our dominance in the City, we'll set up a Casualty Collection Point, and supply route between the surface and our forces in orbit and the shipyards."
Ander looked around once more, confident his leaders knew the plan. He offered them all a casual salute, touching his index and middle finger to his forehead. "Get your Commandos ready, and send me your contingency plans via text. We push into the system within the hour."

Ander turned his head as he heard Lieutenant Coronel Hunter Ynoa speak at his side. "This is going to be a tough one, Tagira, more so than Contruum was." He huffed, shifting the grip on his rifle. Ander smirked. "You're right about that. Sinistra's got ground forces, and artillery as well as air-support, though we don't have numbers on any of them. We should do just fine, as long as the Mandos do their job. We'll have air support from our Larties, and thankfully we'll be dropping in our own artillery. Just make sure they stay well protected until the rest of the Clan forces are established. We'll need that artillery to soften up their defenses outside the Estate's shield."
Ander took a final drag from his cigarette and put it out on the sole of his boot. "We're fighting this one smart, not hard. Dismounts will move behind their respective MAT-TE's, got it? Armor first, dismounts second. Artillery will follow with compliments from each Battalion to protect them. We'll have mobile Anti-Air on the ground as well, moving with our Armored sections. Once we reach Kuat City, their Armor and fighting positions need to be eliminated quickly. We'll be sending BOG Units ahead of you to help get more detailed intelligence. Hopefully, by the time we're making our approach, the Clan forces will be on the ground to distract their forces in the City and you can loose your artillery on the place. Don't worry about the Operators, they'll take care of their own extraction, as will whoever our Mandalorian counterparts send."

Lieutenant Coronel Ynoa wished Ander luck and turned away. Ander stood and moved to Calo's side. The younger man was standing with his arms crossed, the brown robes he wore covering the beskar'gam² beneath. "So what do you think?" Ander asked, his tone sincere. Calo shrugged, grunting. "They've got numbers we can't hope to match." His reply came dryly. Ander ran a gloved hand through his hair. "True enough, but they're packing basic equipment, and soldiers far less trained than our own. I'd say our MAT-TE's count for every five tanks they have." Calo shook his head, unconvinced. "We'll be walking into a slaughterhouse, buir³." The younger man replied, his tone turning curt. Ander frowned slightly, it wasn't like Calo to express anything but enthusiasm before a fight. Perhaps the boy was right, and Ander was leading them to their deaths. Ander turned to speak with the Brigade's General Field Marshal, Aachen Marsburq.
"Father," Calo called suddenly. Ander looked back at him, waiting for his son to continue. Calo remained silent for a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip. "There are Sith and Jedi down there, fighting together, not separately. You no longer have the Force to back you up, and I could count the number of Force Users we have with GALSAF on one hand. Lightsabers, Force Lightening, all manner of terrible things."
Ander closed his eyes momentarily as he sighed, returning to Calo's side. "I know, ad'ika⁴." He muttered. "But we have the best trained force in the Galaxy. Two years alone of nothing but combat, tactics, maneuvers, language, culture, slicing, marksmanship…not to mention the years of experience most of our Commandos had coming with them." Ander rested a hand on Calo's shoulder, feeling the hardened plates of his armor beneath his robe. "We may be outnumbered, but we are certainly not outmatched. We'll kill ten of them for every one of our own who die. We've trained for this, we've fought this battle before. Remember Yavin Four…"

Ander left Calo after that, flagging down General Field Marshal Marsburq, who was overseeing the final preparations of the Brigade's Floating Fortresses. The vehicles were behemoths on the battlefield, each capable of coordinating an entire battalion's worth of operations at once. Their armor and firepower alone was enough to face an entire platoon of hostile Armor and come out on top. Ander waved Marsburq down, who turned to face him.
"Tagira, I'm assuming briefings are done with then?" He asked, his eyes strafing the screen of his datapad. Ander nodded. "We should be ready to move in the next half hour. What about you? Is First Armored prepped and ready to go?" He asked. Marsburq scratched at his mustache with a finger and nodded, then looked up as he replied. "Yes, we're just getting the last of the MAT-TE's loaded onto their carrier Larties now. I'd say we have one company left."
Four vehicles. A ten minute job. Ander smiled. "Good to hear. Comm me when we're green, and I'll get the force together for final words." Marsburq nodded and returned to his work as Ander returned to his gear and snatched up his helmet and rifle. As he finished checking his gear, watching the rest of the Brigade conduct their own pre-combat inspections, General Marsburq brought him up on the comlink and reported 1st Armored's green status. Ander grabbed his rifle and clipped it to his shoulder, then stepped up to the platform at the rear of the hangar bay and called for silence over the open comms. The hangar bay fell quiet as Ander began to speak, his voice plenty loud for all to hear.

"No time for speeches, Commandos. We're going in full strength. We have a force of Jedi and Sith working in tandem. Combatants will consist mainly of enemy armor and artillery, plus other vehicles, such as air support. Their armies outnumber our own, but we're more than ready for that." Ander paused, allowing the Commandos their laughter. He held his hand up and signaled for silence after a moment.
"Even so, this is not going to be pretty. Combatants are to be killed, non-combatants are to be ignored. METT-TC⁵ is important here, now more than ever. Keep your attention on the objective and the Commandos on your left and right."
Ander clapped his gloved hands together and concluded. "Let's hop to it, folks!" He called, watching as the hangar bay exploded once more into a flurry of activity. Commandos were conducting Pre-Op Inspections of weapons, gear and equipment, ensuring for a last time everything was in excellent working condition. Ander returned to his own gear and began running his own inspections, checking his gear pack for everything he would need.

1: Mandalorians
2: Mandalorian armor made of beskar, lit. "Iron Skin"
3: Father
4: Child, son or daughter, Mando'a is gender neutral
5: Stands for: Mission, Enemy, Troops, Terrain, Time, Civilian Considerations. Essentially anything that affects the tactical situation of an operation.

Captain Aximand was taken aback when the vidlink flashed active. The quality of the hologram was substandard in comparison to the ones found upon the ‘Black Caisson’, but for the time being it was bearable. The flickering azure image that had bathed him in a wash of blue light caused the Captain to blink in order to adjust to the drastic change in colour. Why they couldn’t have upgraded their hololithic suites, he wondered as the man named Finnick introduced the names of his compatriots. The fact they were Imperial knights or other imperials for that matter had not surprised him. The collapse of the Remnant most likely had caused whatever remained behind to fracture of into splinter groups, thus taking the shock and awe from his system as soon as he saw the distinctive armour painted in a shade of blue by the antiquated holosuite.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Master Finnick.  Logan’s voice remained calm and rife with authority as he spoke,  Under different circumstances, I would answer your questions. However as there is a war going on, I’ll have to verify which side you swear fealty to before I can continue.

The Captain’s expressions were cast in stone as he spoke, carefully hiding the frustrations of fighting a war upon many fronts with a lack luster smile. It was a curving of the lips about the edges of his mouth that showcased he was pleased to see another Imperial but kind enough to keep his wariness in check.

 I understand you’re hanging friendly pennants from your signalling masts, but our Mandalorian foe may be more cunning than I expect him to be. So, do you fight for those seeking to annihilate those sensitive to the force, or against those religious zealots? Logan was not hungry for the games of deception, and if he sensed even a slight hint of duplicity the vessel and the occupants within would be turned to energized dust within a matter of moments. He could not bear the shame of letting a single enemy through without a fight. As he waited for the answer, in the microseconds after asking the question, the Captain cocked a curious eyebrow and stole a glance at his second officer dealing with a situation elsewhere in the sector.

*Always with the speeches. Surviving a war was better than hearing a speech about combat tactics, though he had to admit it seemed pretty foolproof. He sighed and waited as Ander went on as he stood in the back of the area, away from everyone else. He had his armor on, he had his helmet on, but his white cloak hid most of that. His tonfas were slung on his back as they should be, with a pistol on his hip. Its not like he didn't have a choice in the matter, but he believed now was the best time to rejoin his fellow commandos. The only thing that scared him was there were Force-users from either side teamed up, and even with his small touch to such power, he could feel how strong they were. This would be tight. Even with their two years of experience. But like always, he remained, calm and self-centered, with his back leaned against the far wall, watching and listening. He hadn't been reassigned to a battallion yet, and he didn't expect Ander to give him a warm welcome after his abrupt leave. At least he completed his training. Dominik chuckled at this as Ander finished speaking for the moment and began once again. Dominik hated speeches. Whether they be ones of a story, a mission breif or just some old man ranting... he hated them. He began to speak to himself as Ander finished speaking and everyone went on their way to get prepped and ready.*

"Three entry points... same exit points. Take out of the generators, hit the ground, take out possibly another generator for the estate... an HQ for supplies needs to be set up in the cities and once the generator for the Estate goes down we're most likely in the clear. Its going to take us a long time to find those generators, but this is doable. Just hope theses guys don't expect a soldier who practices tonfa combat."

Several light hours from Kuat seven ships dropped out of hyperspace. The massive amalgamations metal, ceramics, power cores, components. Deep within the machines pulsed the life's blood of the unliving beasts, the crew. The crew was not in typical cloth uniforms, but rather encased in their own metal linings, each face was identical. Clones, they were genetically identical gray skinned Taung, and their helmets reflected their history with the T slit visors as worked their stations in the final half frenzied actions before battle. The massive ships maneuvered into final positions, the smaller 900 meter long smaller direct relatives of the Keldabe class battleships, the Mandokar class Star Frigates set themselves between and slightly below the much larger heavily armored slab sided Mishmure'cya Light Star Cruisers, their unequally stretched diamond surfaces marred by massive super-firing turbolaser turrets, their emitters 8 meters in diameter. Each of the massive barrels pulsed out as much energy as 98 heavy turbolasers per bolt, each ship had 14 heavily armored triple turrets. These glistened dull bronze in the faint light of the distant stars as they rotated to the port side as the ships themselves rotated to port, orienting themselves in preparation for the short hyperspace jump that would take them within range of the distant world of Kuat.

The line was complete. Three Mishmure'cya's in line with the three Mandokar class Star Frigates in between each, with a Mandokar in the lead. The fourth Mishmure'cya, the lead ship of the class of the same name stood off to one side, not forming up. That ship had its own mission. It no longer sported the massive turbolaser turrets of its sisters, instead it had been partially repaired but stripped of its heavy weaponry and its power systems dedicated to one of the largest and most powerful holographic projectors and signal projectors. In ten minutes the anyone with a powerful enough star gazing scope or electrobinoculars would be able to see the new formation of gleaming stars...but in only a few short moments, very few people would be looking for the line of dots, but rather at the slab armored hulls up close and personal.

Another ship had also reverted from hyperspace. This ship however was far afield from the rest, and came in completely cloaked. The Type I class Star Monitor was the only one of its kind, and it was intended to only be a prototype to follow on classes it was shaped much differently than conventional ships being a stretched lozenge with two large turbolasers in disc shaped mounts that rotated allowing the heavier than normal turbolasers have a 270 degree fire arc. The true strength of this vessel however was the fact that not only did it possess a hybridium cloaking device, but it possessed three Crystal Gravfield Traps, one in the nose, one in the aft of the ship, and finally, one that could be towed a dozen kilometers to the rear, gravitational information was triangulated from all three sensor arrays and arranged into a gravitational map of the space around the ship. Armed with this information the ship was capable of detecting and tracking targets, and maneuvering towards or around them. In addition the ship had been constructed with a series of variable strength gravitational projectors that served to cloak the ship from sensors similar to its own. That was not the only technology built into the hull, some was old, and mostly long forgotten...but not lost. Force Mask technology shielded and muddied the mental and Force Presence of the crew inside, hiding them from Force Users. The true power of this ship however, was in its seven torpedo tubes that would launch 10 meter diameter 40 meter long torpedoes that carried the same level of technological sophistication as the ship that launched them. Inside the torpedo resided 2 hypermatter containment reactors, with the same power rating as a CR90 Corvette.

Taung, watching from the Nasreyc finally approved of the fleets final positioning and awaited the word.

Admiral Holland turned to him.

::All ship accounted for and answer final combat orders. Your fleet is fully at your command sir.::

Taung acknowledged the formal message and stood glancing around the buried bridge at the representation of the his fleet displayed on the walls, and then down at the holographic representation in miniature below him. He looked up at the wall that showed the planet of the fleets attention.

::Jump.::

The six ships in line blurred into psuedomotion and disappeared from the plane of existence for a few moments.

OVER KUAT's NORTH POLE

The six ships appeared in line a powerful battle line over Kuat's northern pole at a distance of 250,000 kilometers, 2/3rds of effective combat range for heavy turbolasers under reasonable maneuvering ship to ship combat. The ships took final aim at the Golon III defense station that Dark Tide had placed to defend the northern hemisphere of the planet as the Mishmure'cya ships positioned most of their ranged shield generators, layering them in between the fleet and the defenders. The moment was there, the absolute breathless silence before battle when both sides realized that death was literally about to swing its scythe, and harvest beings to the left and the right as it went down its list.

::Open Fire.::

The gunners fingers tightened on firing studs and capacitors shrieked as the flank heavy turbolasers started firing sapphire streaks of coherent charged particles towards the Golan that would strike in 20 seconds. The series of smaller dashes of the heavy turbolasers continued to hammer out their cadence as the gunners in charge of the superheavy turrets confirmed their target. A voice came over the comm system.

::Standby. Standbye.:: A warning claxon blared its buzzing warning and then the ship shivered. The engineers who were closest to the machinery instinctively clamped their hands over their helmets and ducked down away as the deafening screeching roar of the superheavy turbolasers releasing their energy shook the very air inside the heavily armored turret. On the outside of the ship, one barrel in each turret fired together, followed by a second, and then the last. The holocams on the hull of the ship flared out into static as the massive blue pulses overwhelmed their ability to compensate for the intensity of the light and power that poured into them. Observers blinked away the afterimages of the veins in their eyes that they had tightly pressed shut with hands over their eyes protectively before returning to see the continuing barrage from the heavy turbolaser batteries while the superheavy turbolasers charged for ten seconds before roaring again.

The sensation was odd, to be certain.  He had never experienced a Force Meld before...at least, not while piloting a starfighter.  He wasn't certain he liked the idea of others embedded with his own, intimate thoughts; but he knew--from research--that squadrons in a meld were much more efficient.  But all his training reflected a need to keep his mind his own.  He needed to restrain his initial impulse to deflect the hive-mind.

Devlin consciously allows the group to intrude upon his thoughts.  He lowered the usual protective barriers and opened himself to the jumble that was the meld.

His calm thoughts, interspersed with a bit of odd humor, mingled with the members of Pariah squadron.  

Closing his eyes, Devlin brings the minds of his Jedi pilots into the meld.  Then he barrel rolls over Arcturus' Owool.  He opens his eyes and points to the squadron of TIE Fighters.

Where do you think they're going?