Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 1, 2014 11:55:01 GMT -8
Bralex had made it into he vent. He leaned against the cold metal side of the vent, aiming his DC17m back the opening preparing for anyone that dared follow. No one. Bralex exhaled deeply and lowered his weapon. He had a moment to relax and think, or so he thought. Suddenly, the ship rocked violently and the vent dropped, angling downward at such an angle he lost his footing and began to slide back toward the hangar. Bralex came flying out of the vent, falling to the hangar floor below. He landed prone, knocking the air out of his lungs. He had thought he would be dead, from the marines descending upon him, but the hangar was utter chaos. They were evacuating. His vod had unleashed their fury on this ship and apparently were successful. This was Bralex's cue to exit, or perish with this ship. Quickly scanning the hangar, Bralex saw the last remaining marines loading up on a shuttle. That was his only hope. Dropping the DC-17m and letting it hang across his chest on its tactical sling, Bralex drew his twin Zabrak Tystel Mark III dueling pistols from their quick draw tactical holsters on each thigh. He ran toward the shuttle, hoping to stow away in the cargo hold... Aboard the Victory II-Class Star Destroyer; Designate; ‘Maleficent’ ~ Mere seconds before the Reactor Breach. The yawning mouth of the shuttle’s forward and only entry ramp had begun to seal itself from the myriad of dangers now present in the chaotic hangar bay. It was a choice the pilots had made as the data blaring through their communicators had foretold of a breach in the reactor. They could not wait around for anyone, and thus would have to leave anyone on the flight deck behind as they ferried what survivors were able to clamber aboard to safety. The Imperial marines that had made it aboard climbed within the padded embrace of the passenger bucket seats; only to strap themselves in mere seconds later. With woven belts lashed about the pelvises and a crash harness locking them into position, they were ready for whatever would happen next. The Lambda-class shuttle began lifting itself from the deck as the shuttle craft had become a self-contained environment of stability, effectively ignoring the jet of superheated plasma spat forth from one of the concealed vents in the ceiling. It was standard imperial practice to not have extruding pipes exposed, vents or other means to transfer recycled air and power about the ship. It made it significantly much easier to seal entire sections of the ship in case of an emergency.
Alabaster plates blackened in the surging heat of the vented plasma, but did little more as the vessel soared through the mag-con shielding and directed its nose towards the planet below. The craft would eventually make it to the planet below, but as the pilot had waited to activate the shield he began to worry that something might have followed his daring escape. As there was little resistance to stall the rifleman turned gun slinging Mandalorian warrior, he believed that the bugger attached himself to the hull. Activating the external camera’s he sought to divine the truth behind his gut instinct. That however was abruptly cut short as the reactor of the Maleficent had gone nova, exploding outwards with such force that the shuttle’s shielding and surface had been sundered in the aftermath. The ion engines were knocked out, leaving the dainty butterfly of a craft to drift lifelessly in space. Several of the marines had smacked their helmets against the padded surface of their crash couches, only to feel a slight trickle of blood roll down the various sides of their faces. One of the pilots had been knocked out like a light as his head rocketed forward and connected with the console before him. His co-pilot had been lucky as the man had the time to restrain himself with a crash harness, whilst the pilot had gone through the pre-flight checks mere minutes earlier. |
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Bralex Ordo
Member
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Affiliation: [img]http://tinyurl.com/MEOrdo[/img]
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Jan 2, 2014 16:10:04 GMT -8
Aboard the Victory II-Class Star Destroyer; Designate; ‘Maleficent’ ~ Mere seconds before the Reactor Breach. The yawning mouth of the shuttle’s forward and only entry ramp had begun to seal itself from the myriad of dangers now present in the chaotic hangar bay. It was a choice the pilots had made as the data blaring through their communicators had foretold of a breach in the reactor. They could not wait around for anyone, and thus would have to leave anyone on the flight deck behind as they ferried what survivors were able to clamber aboard to safety. The Imperial marines that had made it aboard climbed within the padded embrace of the passenger bucket seats; only to strap themselves in mere seconds later. With woven belts lashed about the pelvises and a crash harness locking them into position, they were ready for whatever would happen next. The Lambda-class shuttle began lifting itself from the deck as the shuttle craft had become a self-contained environment of stability, effectively ignoring the jet of superheated plasma spat forth from one of the concealed vents in the ceiling. It was standard imperial practice to not have extruding pipes exposed, vents or other means to transfer recycled air and power about the ship. It made it significantly much easier to seal entire sections of the ship in case of an emergency.
Alabaster plates blackened in the surging heat of the vented plasma, but did little more as the vessel soared through the mag-con shielding and directed its nose towards the planet below. The craft would eventually make it to the planet below, but as the pilot had waited to activate the shield he began to worry that something might have followed his daring escape. As there was little resistance to stall the rifleman turned gun slinging Mandalorian warrior, he believed that the bugger attached himself to the hull. Activating the external camera’s he sought to divine the truth behind his gut instinct. That however was abruptly cut short as the reactor of the Maleficent had gone nova, exploding outwards with such force that the shuttle’s shielding and surface had been sundered in the aftermath. The ion engines were knocked out, leaving the dainty butterfly of a craft to drift lifelessly in space. Several of the marines had smacked their helmets against the padded surface of their crash couches, only to feel a slight trickle of blood roll down the various sides of their faces. One of the pilots had been knocked out like a light as his head rocketed forward and connected with the console before him. His co-pilot had been lucky as the man had the time to restrain himself with a crash harness, whilst the pilot had gone through the pre-flight checks mere minutes earlier. |
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Taung H'rel
Retired High Councilor 
Posts: 469
Affiliation: Galactic Empire
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Post by Taung H'rel on Jan 2, 2014 19:58:06 GMT -8
As the Shadow Reaper picked out a target from its distant station keeping location and released its deadly scintillating green colored death into the void, the beam so powerful and the mechanisms still slightly theoretical, was pushed into the realm of superluminal speeds, tearing across space in ways that was unnatural. Onboard the southern LightStealth-18 alarms squealed and beeped as the sensors detected the massive unleashing of energy that tripped a number of sensors, both energy receptors, hyperspace detectors, and crystal grav field trap as the exotic matter beam tore normal space asunder as it passed by. The sensor operator watched as a brilliant line was painted across his sensor display screens, not quite comprehending for a few seconds, a few potentially deadly seconds. The ship had detected the Dark Tide Sovereign only a few hours into it being on station in the system, but they, and the naval planners, had assumed that it would jump in nearer the planet before acquiring and firing on a target, something that could have been warned of and ships in the line of danger could be made aware of in time to alter their positions. Simply firing at such an extended range, cut the warning time of the behemoth of death to a near impossible reaction time. The operator smacked the transmit button almost hard enough to break it, opening a channel to the Orar strategic officer and almost screaming out his message. The officer on the Orar had to clap his hands over his already protected ears to try to cut out the noise of the ships massive capacitors in its primary battery of turbolasers, and the low rumbling of metal vibrating as missiles were launched, and ask for the scout officer to repeat what he had said. When the message got through the officer's eyes went wide and he started pushing buttons and passing on the information.
By the time Admiral Holland on the bridge of the Orar got the message, precious time had been lost.
::All ships evasive maneuvers! Incoming heavy fire!::
The five ships of Taung's group started breaking maneuvers, ships climbing and diving like mad. But that is only the description of what continued. Before the outboard ship, the Ram'or could transfer the order to its helm officer and the maneuver began in earnest, the ship had moved only two kilometers from its projected position, that being two other kilometers too short. While the beam would have missed with just a few more seconds of warning time, that was not to be. The transfer of information and orders simply took too long. The beam swept the outboard projected shields away almost as if they werent there, a series of spectacular explosions a few miles out from the actual ship was the only thing that indication that they had even existed. The beam struck the ship just on the ventral side of the horizontal midline abreast of the main engine section. The explosions from the interacting high powered particles and the armor of the ship started faster than the mind could comprehend, turning the heavy armor plate into hypersonic shockwaves of supercondensed superheated plasma that started shoving the structural components of the ship apart even though an eyeblink later the plasma arrived to scatter those components asunder and into plasma of its own to continue on. When the reactors exploded as the plasma broke them, they simply added to the spectacular death of the vessel, which from the outside simply looked as if the vessel exploded in a massive explosion that vaporized the entire vessel, leaving no solid piece larger than could fit in a child's hand from off some of the sections near the bow.
The massive explosion on the port flank surprised the squadron and for a long moment the weapons went silent as the ships continued to split off from one another. The sudden and inexplicable death of their comrade stunning the crews into submission for as long as it took to realize that thousands of their comrades had simply vanished.
Onboard the Nasreyc Taung took in the sudden turn of events as calmly as he could, which really wasnt good. Dark Tide had used the Shadow Reaper at extreme range. He shook his head. Another oversight that was inexcusable. Not unforeseen, simply in that form.
::Move the ships to the north interior of the Yards. We still have a quarter of the planets rotation before we can enter the atmosphere effectively. Have Orar hang back out of the fire arc of the ground weapons and cover the Mandokars from topside. We'll bring the Mandokars right to the surface and unload troops, the ships can hold off any attack wings until troops are on the ground. Support by fire, then take the ships back up and continue the fight, mind you don't get within the arc of those w-165s. Use the tractor beams to support the heavy vehicles to the surface if necessary. Good luck Admiral Holland.::
::You too sir.::
Taung turned and headed for the air lock, checking his weapons as he went and joining up with his commando squads.
The four remaining ships started reforming into a maneuvering line, each ship maneuvering in a defined area while still maintaining a line ahead as they rolled over the top of the disc of Kuat Drive Yards. The last unaltered Mishmure'cya class ship, the Orar, lead the way, its projected shield generators angled out in front of and around the ships, each set slightly apart from the one in front, and angled a different direction to optimally shift fire away from the ships from possible surprise attacks. The four ships shuddered as they launched their missiles that arced out in different directions away from the ships as they took the shortest route to their respective distant targets. One hundred superheavy concussion missiles and 100 heavy proton torpedoes, 120 heavy proton torpedoes and 60 assault concussion missiles,and 60 assault concussion missiles were launched towards the frantically maneuvering Dark Tide Southern Force before they disappeared around the limn of the planet once again and were lost to direct site, and only marked as sensor locations from ships that could view them directly. As the line came around further, they dropped closer to the planet, but shed velocity, and moved slightly north, making sure to keep the bulk of the planet between themselves and that accursed Sovereign class Star Dreadnaught. The Mandokars started dropping lower and lower, almost skimming the atmosphere now as they shed even more velocity and altitude, the Orar holding up higher in order to cover them.
It was time for other players to enter the board in an active role. Faced with the simple fact that the Sovereign seemed intent on not involving itself in direct combat, it was time to lure it in.
Onboard the cloaked Star Monitor the captain knew his job now. He ordered firing point procedures, and launched a series of twelve Superheavy missiles, each was nearly 100 meters long, and carried within them six hypermatter reactors. Each was fully cloaked and shielded by gravitic modulators, the initial firing giving them all the velocity they would need to complete their mission. Each was set to arrive at their target destination at almost exactly the same time. Destinations that ran extremely tight across the surface of the, so close in fact that the individual explosions would be virtually undetectable as separate devices. A line that ran across the Andrim Shipyards in Section 7, and the adjoining Machine Shops in Section 12 of the Drive Yards. The positioning of this particular position on the Drive Yards was no accident. It was placed more or less above the Dark Tide Headquarters and Kuat City, the targets were actual shipyards and one of its two supporting machine shops, and most importantly, it was on the far side of the planet from the Shadow Reaper. A place that if it wanted to see, would have to join the battle in closer quarters. With his missiles launched, the captain began an immediate reload of his weapons, and ordered a sensor pod extended, and a single direction message was beamed towards the last ship that waited for its part to start. The superweapon ship, Mishmure'cya.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2014 20:57:23 GMT -8
Nurse Sarah flashed Draug a devilish smile, knowing she could have a great deal of fun, and mischief, in this situation=Nurse Sarah=More Blueberries for me then... Almost a good hour later, Nurse Sarah stepped through the door off the bridge, shaking her head as her hair did it's best to self-settle. She turned her head and winked back towards the crew on the bridge=Nurse Sarah=I think a follow up consult might be needed in the future, to ensure your fitness and health remain the same... She then made her way back along the hallway and popped back into the storage room, doing a qwuick change back into her regular dress and medical coat, before exiting the room and continuing on her way back through the ship down to the hangar bay to await the arrival of the last group of civilians, assuming the Leo's were able to make it past the Mandalorian Fleets on their way back
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Ander Tagira on Jan 5, 2014 12:38:30 GMT -8
Screaming through the silence of space towards the encroaching XJ7’s, a flight of three fighters had accelerated to attack speed; eager to get to grips with the enemy. The twin ion engine craft were flown by Veteran pilots, men whom served the Dark Tide for many years and outlived a plethora of their comrades. Each craft and their pilots within had recorded seven kills apiece over their short career, having worked in concert for each death they had inflicted; the three pilots believed themselves to be invincible in regards to the stigma attached to being a TIE pilot. Determined and focused, they approached this battle with a lust for battle that could not be quenched. The first pilot, whom took the position at the head of the loose formation and bore the name “Howlrunner” instead of the one that he was been born with, ran through the details of the advanced craft before him. The one flaw with the XJ7’s, much like any craft that had been taken from that line, was the spacing of their heavy laser cannons. As the three craft before him had spat beams of crimson death his way, “Howlrunner” banked his vessel to the portside of his fighter and angled his solar arrays to tilt his craft in the direction he had gone. The cannon shots that would have torn through his cockpit, breaking it open and frying the pilot within, passed harmlessly through the gaps above and below the eyeball. With the condensed ionic plasma having cannoned its way through the space his craft occupied, warning klaxons began blaring within the confines of his cockpit. Some of the solar panels upon his right hand side had been fried in the exchange, but as his mind flicked through the predictive results, “Howlrunner” was assured that his craft would operate within normal parameters for now but was advised to return to base in order to undergo repairs; thus returning his craft to optimal efficacy.
Blinking the scrolling screen filled with warnings from his visor, the pilot clenched his teeth as he swung his fighter craft to the starboard side and angled himself upwards. It was a stressful act, more so upon the pilot himself rather than for the ship. Without the graceless tug of gravity to interfere, the TIE/ln fighter would need not to worry of shaking itself apart in the act. The man encased within however experienced a moment of vertigo as his craft angled about to face his foe once more. Letting the sickening feeling course through his system as nothing more than a fleeting dream, “Howlrunner” roared with a sickening fury as he gunned the triggers of his flight stick. The first shots went wide as they began to trace back towards their target, a result of the angle his fighter had taken as it dipped and swung towards a higher elevation. However as the lengthy beams of emerald energy began arcing towards his foe, following the predicted path his targeting computer had generated, the TIE pilot connected to the rest of his flight with a thought. He had orders to issue and a hostile pilot to kill; doing them both at the same time seemed fitting of a man in his station.Form up on the leader, evade and fire at all targets of opportunity.As their leader had done his bout of fancy flying, his comrades designated “Night Beast” and “Backstabber” had followed their commander’s example. Utilizing their strengths of being unpredictable each of the craft had broken off the main arrowhead formation to swing under and over the advancing craft. Like their leader, several of their solar panel cells had been seared in the fury of their foes volley leaving warning sirens to blare within the eyeballs cockpit. Ignoring and stifling the sound with a thought, each of the veteran pilots banked and dipped their vessels respectively to swing about and face their foes head on once more. “Night Beast” banked his fighter to the port and starboard sides as it screamed towards the space superiority fighters arrayed before him. His laser cannons opened up as soon as his targeting computer had garnered a predictable lock upon the craft before him. With a rictus grin slapped upon his face, he wondered how his foe would react or if he would get lucky to add another confirmed kill to his growing tally. Dipping his craft to a lower plane of the three dimensional environment “Backstabber” brought his guns to bear upon his foe once his cannons had garnered a lock. As soon as the soft chime resonated within his ears, the pilot gunned his triggers sending bolts of emerald death directly in the predicted path his enemy would take if he continued on course.
Through the use of their outdated craft’s maneuverability, these three TIE pilots believed that they would survive to fly another day. Yet in a universe where change was the only thing with any consistency, such hubris in their abilities may be proven wrong if their enemy pilots had revealed themselves to be better in every which way possible. Major Navarro Ularc
Flight Leader, GALCOM XJ7 X-wing Flight They're banking starboard, get ready to spread out. Ularc called over the comlink as the lead TIE/ln fighter turned onto its starboard side and began to cut away from Ularc's attack angle. Emerald laser bolts were spat from the TIE's cannons, the first of them slicing through the space wide of his own craft. The following shots, however, hit closer to their mark, one of them grazing his deflector shields as Ularc corrected his attack angle. The enemy TIE fighters began to split their formation, tipping Ularc off to their intention of forming against him. Reacting to the enemy's maneuvers, Orthib and Tell swung wide to port and starboard, opening the trio's formation like the maw of some oceanic predator. Ularc tipped his own fighter onto its starboard stabilizer foils, angling his fighter to match the direction the lead TIE/ln had taken. He dropped his fighter's speed enough to provide him with a sharper maneuvering angle, bringing the lead TIE/ln back into his sight more quickly. This brought him back onto approach more swiftly, though the TIE's greater speed kept its pilot just along the edges of Ularc's attack field, preventing him from being able to shoot at the hostile vessel.
Orthib and Tell maintained their loose formation as the three TIE's cut back again to meet them head on, though now only Ularc was within their firing field. Pouring more power into his forward deflector shields, Ularc began to trace a torpedo lock onto the lead TIE/ln. Once the lock was achieved, Ularc began to pour laser cannon fire into the space forward of the center TIE fighter, leading its approach vector. To compensate for the wide spread of his cannon bolts, Ularc kicked his fighter into a roll, ensuring his shots would arrive in a slightly angled pattern tight enough to center on the enemy fighter's main fuselage.
As Ularc had began making a lock on the lead TIE/ln, Orthib and Tell had began cutting back inwards, closing the maw of the beast that was their formation and sending a stream of offset cannon shots into space, leading their own two targets. Ularc released a single proton torpedo at his foe and began to tip the nose of his fighter upward, coming out of his roll and angling over the three hostile TIE's. Barring any sudden maneuvers, he would cut over their formation upside-down, ready to dip his fighter into a downward loop in order to reengage a third time, though from behind. Orthib and Tell's cannon fire was intended to cut through the stabilizers of the other two TIE/ln fighters, though their attack angle could also prove effective at forcing the three fighters to break their formation to avoid being vaped. Either way worked for Ularc, though he intended on finishing their little dogfight as quickly as possible. |
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Panno
The First Order
Posts: 365
Affiliation: Imperial Knights
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Post by Panno on Jan 5, 2014 16:50:27 GMT -8
It had been a long shot but they had made it onto the second of Darth Flvin larger vessels. The two imperial Knights had made it on without a scratch on their birds, all the enemies fire having been dedicated to the space station. The shot having done it's job the small shield for the hnager was down long enough for Panno to enter unharmed. Finnick on the other hand, had lost one of the wings as the blast shekel closed to keep the vital oxygen in the ship. Skidding on the ground the two jumped out of the cock pit their silver blades lit, ready to cleave through armour and flesh and bone.
They once again caught a break as the Mandos in the hanger had been knocked to their feet by the sucking atmosphere a moment before. As such they had a moment to orient themselves before any fore would make it's way towards them. Batting away the blaster fire which would inevitably come towards them Finnick spoke up. Alraight kid, you head to the bridge, I've got a mission of my own. Then with a smile he nodded and ran off in the opposite direction.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2014 17:19:26 GMT -8
*Abe sits and waits for the landing in Kuat city. He knows it will take a long time or rather what feels like a long time. He's no stranger to this. He and Kaine did this for years, waiting in a ship to land and become shock troops. It was something he missed. He missed his brother. He missed his smugness and his sarcasm. They tomented the daylights out of each other, but at the end of the day they were aliit Australis. Brothers. The way he died was unceremonious. Almost like the way Abe almost died. Abe came back though. Some would think it was an advantage, but he saw it as weakness. So would the others. He was glad to be alive, but at what cost? As always he just plays the hand he's dealt.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 10, 2014 19:59:23 GMT -8
Bralex wouldn't be found. He had managed to sneak into one of the shuttle's rear landing gear spaces. It was tight, once the gear retracted, but Bralex wasn't claustrophobic. He hoped this shuttle was headed to the planet below, as that is where he wanted to go, to cause more problems for forces there. It was now a waiting game...
When the telltale thrum of the reactor slowly began to pulsate, a cheer of rejoice swept throughout the compartments filled with the survivors of the Victory II’s reactor going nova. That act was not repeated within the confines of the cockpit, as the pilot swore time and time again as the diagnostics scans began relaying the errors the shipboard computer had found. The engine housings had been breached by large chunks of debris, effectively turning the craft into yet another piece of flotsam left to endlessly drift above Kuat. Life support would only last them a few hours more, before the unforgiving grip of death choked the life from all of those that remained within the shuttle. The fluctuations in the power grid had caused many overhanging lights to flicker, casting an eerie atmosphere within certain compartments. Of the stations that could report back with direct and visual communications, a list of deaths had been created and as each compartment that could check in relayed their dread news, the casualties began to mount. The marines that had been unsecured in the detonation were tossed about the hold and died seconds after the ship had lost power. Others were impaled by certain sections of the shuttle craft collapsing in upon itself, under the sheer ferocity of the shockwave.
The co-pilot cursed under his breath as he ordered all able bodied soldiers to join him in the shuttle’s cockpit. It was there that he detailed his plan, and inquired after the ultimate fate of their Mandalorian quarry. With the shuttle having a forward facing entry ramp, offering a clear view of the hydraulic landing struts and their cramped housings, a single trooper offered up the records of his helm. He mentioned that, as the last one to board the shuttle whilst it was lifting into the air, something odd occurred out of the corner of his eye. A black shadow, humanoid in shape, scooting into the landing gear upon the starboard side; the deed had happened unnaturally fast that the trooper professed it to be nothing more than an illusion conjured by his mind. However as the pilot used what remained of the shuttle’s sensor suite, an unknown anomaly was found to be sequestered within the starboard section. Knowing how crafty their opponent was by his failed attempts to flush the hangar and escape into an uncharacteristically non-Imperial regulation vent, the pilot assumed whatever this biological entity was; it was nothing he desired to be trapped aboard a derelict shuttle with.
As all of the able bodied soldiers were situated within the cockpit, the pilot and his companion made the executive decision to abandon the shuttle and use the only escape pod to join their comrades on the planet below. Leaving the dead and dying behind, they sealed the cockpit module and ejected the nose pod of the Lambda. Using what compressed gases they had left in the thrusters; their descent was corrected with minor bursts being fired from the jets. In time they would reach the planet below and emit a distress beacon for their fellow brothers in arms to rescue those in need of aid. Turning his gaze back towards the blackened and battered shuttle craft, he saw the true damage sustained to his bird; the things left unsaid by the damaged computer. He knew that even with the cockpit now descending towards the planet and, the inoperable shuttle behind them growing ever more insignificant; the pilot knew they would no longer have to worry about their Mandalorian infestation. Instead, they would merely concern themselves with surviving the descent… |
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Bralex Ordo
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Affiliation: [img]http://tinyurl.com/MEOrdo[/img]
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Jan 11, 2014 7:09:11 GMT -8
Bralex knew instantly when the command center of the shuttle disconnected, leaving him and whomever was left in the remaining portion of the shuttle to die. If Bralex was to die in battle at Kuat, it wouldn't be like this. Bralex began to transmit on all frequencies, a coded S.O.S., specific to each channel he was broadcasting on, so as make whomever came, think he was their ally. Now he only could wait, and hope help came before the icy cold and black of death did. His armor only had so much life support...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2014 19:06:09 GMT -8
= Captain Logan Aximand = ~ Commanding officer of the Nebula - Class Star Destroyer: Designate; The Black Caisson. ~ Within the confines of the command deck, Captain Aximand watched the battle for Kuat play out in the holographic projection before him. A small smile had flickered across his aging face, as he had borne witness to the discharging energy of the dreaded Sovereign – class Star dreadnought. It was but a minor victory to stand up against the tidal wave of defeat, yet it was enough for Logan to harden his heart in the face of such adversity. Though he, and the armada he commanded, were almost upon even terms with the foe he had now faced; there was a distinct advantage that the enemy warlord had over him. The advancement in technology, essentially the man with a larger stick, had proven its devastation this day. It left Logan with a sour taste upon his tongue, as he thought of what changes could have been wrought to the navy of the Dark Tide, changes that would have saved a great many lives. If he and anyone loyal to the Dark Tide had survived this battle, the Captain would ensure something like this would not occur again. The senseless slaughter of thousands of men and women would be thwarted long before the chance to wreck such havoc could be made. Kuat would become akin to that of a fortress world, one in which a man could wipe the sweat from his brow without the fear of being purged. Such a utopia was a far off dream from the present, as the dangers of being sent into death’s embrace were at an all-time high. Perhaps, when the drums of war had been silenced by those that remained standing, such a place would be allowed to exist.Returning his mind to the representation of the battle taking place before him in microcosm, Captain Aximand noticed a small trend starting to take place about the northern and southern sections of the battle field. Under the cover of fire, all vessels flying Republic signals from their signalling masts slowly started to peel away from the fighting. His brown eyes narrowed, all the while wondering what those Republic warships were doing when his orders were clear. He had requested that each vessel acquire a target and fire away until it was no longer there, yet here he stood and watched as they tactically withdrew from the battle. The Black Caisson’s sensorum suite had detected each vessel preparing itself to make the jump into hyperspace, thus leaving the Dark Tide by itself to fend off the combined might of the warlord; Taung H’rel. Such a betrayal was not acceptable to Logan, and he suddenly felt the hot flash of anger boil through his veins. If he survived to see another dawn upon Kuat, he would see the Republic pay for what they have done. Lord Sinistra had begged them for aid, and aid they had sent; however they did nothing more than be semi-silent observers as the battle took its course before them. The forest moon of Yavin IV and a plethora of Jedi worlds had come under attack during the course of this purge, and yet when the chance to stop such a senseless atrocity had emerged, they feigned to take it.
Slamming his fist onto the edge of his tactical display, the Captain gave silent voice to the knives slowly sinking their way into his soul. The victory he had desired now drifted away from him as the Republic vessels began moving towards the Coreward jump point, leaving those brave enough to stand in the way of the Mandalorian Menace behind; consigned to die a fruitless death. Logan could not accept that, he couldn’t bear to live with himself any longer if he didn’t at least figure out why they had chosen to leave him and his fellow officers here to die. In the attempt to open a channel, he had found that all attempts to establish a line of communication had gone unanswered. Clearly they did not wish to speak with him, to explain why they had to depart as abruptly as they arrived. Swearing in several commonly known languages, Logan tore himself away from the tactical display and moved towards the forward viewscreen. Nearly a half a million lives had been lost in this bloody conflict, and each was done so in the pursuit of some goal. While the one maintained by those defending Kuat was clear, Captain Aximand wondered what goals his foe had in mind. Was he here to destroy the planet, like he did New Carida? If that were the case, Logan was sure that such an event would’ve already transpired by now. No, he mused, Taung’s here for something more. That question would sadly go unanswered for the foreseeable future, as he had the present to focus upon and a battle to win.“Captain,” The voice of his executive officer echoed throughout the bridge, drawing the eyes of those not swarmed with duties to attend too. “You are not going to believe this. The Southern front is ours again.” Captain Aximand swiftly came about, looking his second in command in the eye and advancing upon his position. A puzzled look hung heavily about Logan’s eye as he wrapped his fingers about the bars surrounding the tactical display table. The Commander stabbed his finger into the emerald projection and directed his captain’s attention to the flotilla that had arranged itself before his. Their positions had buckled as their line gave way, like that of the Jedi and Republic; this splinter faction of the Mandalorian crusade had tucked tail and tactically withdrew from the system. Stunned into a fleeting second of disbelief, Captain Aximand’s jaw hung agape. He couldn’t believe that his foe and a small freighter captured by the 'Medusa' had chosen to follow the example given by the Republic; perhaps there was something redemptive about the cowardly Coruscanti after all.“I don’t believe it. If they’ve broken off their attack that means we can focus on removing other threats to the system, like that lone Imperator II stationed above the Drive Yards.” Commander Borodin looked towards his superior, wondering where his line of thought had gone. “Sir, wouldn’t it be prudent for us to engage the larger group some distance away?” Logan nodded in affirmation. “Aye, Commander, it would. However with our foe here in the Southern quadrant turning tail, we have to refocus our efforts in cleaning up the stragglers.” It was then that the Captain turned his gaze upon his second, seamlessly continue to extrapolate upon the ideas formulating within his skull. “We remove the extra pieces off the board before going after the King. It’s one of the many fundamental strategies in Dejarik. No game could ever be won without the death of pawns, and I have a feeling if this one pawn is left alive a plethora of problems would arise sooner than we desire.” Commander Borodin nodded, before turning away from the table to coordinate the remaining alert fighters stationed within the Black Caisson’s hold. Captain Aximand watched as his XO made sure to let the notable pilots of Saber Squadron know what their mission was to be. Turning his gaze back towards that of the beryl hologram, Logan enhanced the pixelated image of the positions his craft had taken in the aftermath of the violent assault from the rear. With the fighters launched and the screen now fully in play, such an attack would have little success in occurring again. The fighter craft that had been diverted to engage with the Mandalorian Bes’uliik, were sent off to assimilate with their brethren blocking the most direct route a missile could take before the gravity well lashed on. As the assemblage of TIE fighters had silently screamed towards their duly appointed stations, the flotilla began moving towards the place his foe had once taken roost. Ion engines flaring and putting the curvature of the planet at their backs. It was from here that they began to angle themselves upwards, tipping their nose towards the very belly of the Kuat Drive Yards.
The ships that had been at the rear of the armada, as it had made its way towards the southern pole, had seen the worst the Mandalorian Warlord could bring to bear. Their vessels had been severely damaged in the last projectile barrage, thus as Captain Aximand had ordered the ships to proceed towards the northern pole, they would be left behind in their wake. So, each Captain of the two remaining Victory II’s had slowly turned their vessels about to get a better arc of fire with their weapons, and begin the evacuation sequence. With only a skeleton crew remaining aboard as non-essential personnel abandoned ship, the two vessels had limped in their stationary turn, facing the encroaching horde of missiles with their port and starboard sides; in which they were joined soon after by the starboard facing guns of the last remaining Golan II platform. Their guns trained upon the incoming targets, in a last ditch attempt to provide covering fire for their fleeing crew, and to give one last proverbial finger to the enemy they now faced. Ratcheting into place and letting loose a thunderous cannonade of turbolaser fire, dozens of missiles that had made it through the fighter screen erupted with such violence, it seemed for a fleeting moment that the void itself was lit by the brilliance of such detonations.However as there was far too many missiles launched, not every one of them would be brought down before they had made impact. Stray projectiles, numberings in the single digits had streaked through the void and eluded the violence that awaited them. Two assault concussion missiles had streamed through the wreckage of the ‘Maleficent ‘, after having been knocked off course by a careless pilot. Upon twin tails of fire, these two missiles sped towards the ‘Cruella’ and the ‘Hook’ respectively, only for one to find itself set upon the path of an activated beacon. Like firaxan sharks drawn to a pool of blood, the missile rocketed itself towards the derelict shuttle craft. Unconcerned with the loss of its twin, the remaining rocket and those it could consider kin, impacted across the particle shielding. The first few missiles had detonated on the outer surface of the deflector, tearing it asunder as a result. Those that followed in afterwards struck the blackened alabaster plates of the two pint sized destroyers, blowing massive holes through out several decks. One of the super heavy concussion missiles had broken through the picket line, only to cause what remained of the ‘Cruella’ to separate in the fury of the rockets explosion.
Logan watched all of this transpire as his vessels made for the drive Yards, using the natural curve of the planet to keep themselves away from the fury of the Mandalorian Warlord’s guns. Though he felt a heavy weight hang upon his heart, he knew there was nothing he could do. Many lives had been saved, in comparison to what was lost in the attack, or what could have been lost if he did not order the weakest links in his flotilla to remain behind and perform a rearguard action. Now, free of both a Mandalorian force and finally able to go upon the offensive, the Nebula, Imperator I, and the Six remaining Victory II’s silently stalked through the void as they made best speed towards the drive yards and the single ship hanging anchor above... |
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Jan 13, 2014 17:58:45 GMT -8
It was 100 meters of military beauty. With no actual artistic touches to it, no learned man of books and datacards could enjoy it, but someone with education and combat leadership experience, the Herceles Class Escape Corvette "The Crete" was a true monument of beauty. The Base ship was a Corellian Corvette that got a second set of ion engines on a slightly movable scaffold gaining more speed and manoeuvrability. Owning a small ion cannon turret on the ventral side, and a quadlaser cannon turret on the dorsal one, this ship seemed to have little to no defences. If you dont count the small rocketlauncher turrets placed all over the hull. Little tiny things, thirty of them.
The Command Throne Was set in the fore of the bridge. A command chair tailored to Seleevan Khar. In front of it was a miriad of smaller displays surrounding a large one. The large one was displaying hyperspace, while the others showed hoards of statuses, reports, incoming calls and much much more. The Beast of Vortex sat focussed, without motion. He was listening to his eight man bridge behind him.
-The Crete-s bridge-
"-Thirty seconds!- -SISTEMCHECK!- -Engines ready- - Sensors ready- - Comms ready- -Ab-P Sistems green!- -Weapons responsive- -TWENTY SECONDS!- -Generators ready- -Lifesupport on minimum- -Cameras working and responsive- -FIVE!- -Triarii are ready!- FOUR- THREE- -BRACE FOR NORMALITY! - TWO- -On...."
"The Crete" entered Kuat orbit from the Coruscant hyperspace lane. The ship at once engaged all its engines and started to fly evasive, banking and turning to random directions as the team onboard gathered sensory data.
-The Crete Bridge-
"-TIMER STARTED! NINETY SECONDS!- -SECOND TIMER STARTED! 180 SECONDS!- -Shields active!- -EVASIVE MANOOUVERS! DEBRIS DEBRIS DEBRIS!"
The Beast of vortex just sat looking at the asteroid on the largest display. That IS a problem... As the Crete manouvered easily out of its way instead of crashing strait into it (although, if they had jumped out of hyperspace just a second later, they would be spread out like Oldspice Freshness from a spray can). He will have to do something about that...
"Captain, send a message to the fleet. They have to come out of hyperspace further out. Inform them of our rock problem."
-The Crete Captain-
"Yes, holyness."
He went back to deeply engage with the sensory data. He had less then Ninety seconds to analyse and decide, then ninety seconds more to finalise. He had speed, manouverability, tricks, the force, and a a squad of force wielding Vor holy warriors on this ship.
On THIS ship...
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Taung H'rel
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 469
Affiliation: Galactic Empire
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Post by Taung H'rel on Jan 13, 2014 19:17:59 GMT -8
The Orar drifted slower, maneuvering erratically back and forth, staying in an area above the descending Mandokar's area, providing top cover. The powerful turbolasers remained silent as the ship lacked any actual targets to fire on. The remnants of the Dark Tide Fleet had slipped around the edge of the planet, and blind firing missiles seemed like a waste of ordinance at the moment. There was still the chance that the Shipyards shields could go down, and then there would be plenty of destruction to be had. For now, the ship's captain had chosen to offset his primary and secondary centerline batteries port and starboard with every other emplacement to cover threats equally from any side.
The three Mandokar class Star Frigates kissed the planet's atmosphere, a cloud of compressed atmosphere began to form around the ships leading edges as the shields pushed the planetary gasses aside to make room for the massive metal behemoths, trails of vapor and other gases formed thick trails behind them as they descended quickly into the atmosphere, making sure to stay below the line of sight of Kuat City, the military base outside it, and the ground to space weapons spaced in those areas. As the ships lost altitude, they moved closer to their chosen landing site, moving closer to the military base outside of Kuat City, changing their path that would take them arcing south of the city.
Overhead the Orar drifted further south, losing the optimum covering angle, but avoiding unmasking itself to the enemies shielded ground defense weapons.
Onboard the Type I Star Monitor the crew was busy. They were monitoring their weapons paths to their target, or rather using estimated projection to calculate where each one would be in both time and space. They were also using all the reconnaissance information that they could gather from both friendly units and their own sensory information, plotting where exactly the enemies hated Sovereign class Super Star Destroyer was lurking. The captain and his navigator and chief tactical officer stared into the holographic representations of space and fed information into the simulations and trying to guess where and possibly when the enemies ship would make a jump into near orbit to engage a new, threat that could not be ignored. The captain gave his orders and the ship began maneuvering to where the best guess was that the enemy might show itself. If it didnt. They would just have to go hunting it. The ship turned away from the planet, moving north and off to the right towards a location that would bring the big ship out far enough out to be away from harm from fleets fighting around the shipyards, but still leave the bow more or less pointing towards its target that it didnt yet have. It was a slow process, but this was a new kind of warfare. The captain looked at the chrono and calculated the long minutes it would take...many long minutes.
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Bralex Ordo
Member
Posts: 53
Affiliation: [img]http://tinyurl.com/MEOrdo[/img]
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Jan 13, 2014 21:25:15 GMT -8
However as there was far too many missiles launched, not every one of them would be brought down before they had made impact. Stray projectiles, numberings in the single digits had streaked through the void and eluded the violence that awaited them. Two assault concussion missiles had streamed through the wreckage of the ‘Maleficent ‘, after having been knocked off course by a careless pilot. Upon twin tails of fire, these two missiles sped towards the ‘Cruella’ and the ‘Hook’ respectively, only for one to find itself set upon the path of an activated beacon. Like firaxan sharks drawn to a pool of blood, the missile rocketed itself towards the derelict shuttle craft. Unconcerned with the loss of its twin, the remaining rocket and those it could consider kin, impacted across the particle shielding. The first few missiles had detonated on the outer surface of the deflector, tearing it asunder as a result. Those that followed in afterwards struck the blackened alabaster plates of the two pint sized destroyers, blowing massive holes through out several decks. One of the super heavy concussion missiles had broken through the picket line, only to cause what remained of the ‘Cruella’ to separate in the fury of the rockets explosion.
Logan watched all of this transpire as his vessels made for the drive Yards, using the natural curve of the planet to keep themselves away from the fury of the Mandalorian Warlord’s guns. Though he felt a heavy weight hang upon his heart, he knew there was nothing he could do. Many lives had been saved, in comparison to what was lost in the attack, or what could have been lost if he did not order the weakest links in his flotilla to remain behind and perform a rearguard action. Now, free of both a Mandalorian force and finally able to go upon the offensive, the Nebula, Imperator I, and the Six remaining Victory II’s silently stalked through the void as they made best speed towards the drive yards and the single ship hanging anchor above... |
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Panno
The First Order
Posts: 365
Affiliation: Imperial Knights
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Post by Panno on Jan 14, 2014 11:00:13 GMT -8
Moments before the fleet from the South jumped into hyperspace Panno got off the second of the larger ships. His black matte TIE predator blending in with the space. It's lone occupant just holding it together. While inboard the ship two Imperials had split up. One to the bridge the other to the engines. Panno could only guess at what happened then as only he had gotten off. His Master, his friend had not made it. They were originally going to take the bridge, kill all Mandos on the ship. Regrettably something had triggered a jump forth fleet.
Now alone and away from the main fights he thumbed his comm unit. His voice hollow but neutral Panno started. Black Caisson this is Panno Grai'Tal. I was on the Southern front please advise where you need me. Sure he was only a single starfighter in a large scale engagement but single man can change the course of a battle. It also helped
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2014 1:34:18 GMT -8
The Chiss Assault Cruiser, who's current ID was "The People's Might", sat floating in space just south of the RDMC Medical fleet. All of it's previous Chiss Ascendancy Insignia's had long since been replaced by that of the Honoghr Conclave's, which was a Tribal Eagle on a grey field. Aboard the bridge, the Captain of the ship, at this time being one Captain Drept Ellion, sat and watched the display before him, monitoring ship movements of the various fleets that were battling over Kuat.
Many of them far outgunned his Assault Cruiser, which had been attached to the RDMC fleet to act as the Honoghr Conclave's representative to this battle and to help aid the Medical Fleet if it came under attack. However, Captain Drept was about to be forced to make a choice between his two priorities as a couple Mandalorian ships broke off and made for the surface of the planet not far from the planetary turbolasers, whilst a couple of other troop transports from the GALSAF fleet made for the surface to a location not far from Kuat City.
Although he had the feeling the Dark Tide forces were sufficient groundside, there was a doubt that nagged at him, a doubt that perhaps they might need a little extra help, Especially considering so far both the Republic and Jedi Council Forces had failed to help thus far or even stick around. Now it fell to him and the troops on board to represent at least one faction willing to stand by it's commitment, even if it was to the Dark Tide, a group with whom the Chiss had shared a fairly bloody battle with many years ago.
Captain Drept rose from his chair and nodded towards the Chief of the Boat and Commander Derrigan, Two men with whom he had worked with for many years now and trusted beyond many others"COB, sound general quarters. Commander, let's take her down to the city... It's time to meet these bucket heads face-to-face" Captain Drept "Understood Captain. Engage primary engines, Down five degrees, Landfall two miles out from Kuat City" Commander Derrigan As the engines of The People's Might engaged and the ship tilted forward, being propelled through the vast vacuum of space, the COB opened the secure ship wide comms system as the warning bells rangThis is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill. All hands to Stations. Prep for drop COB The 300 Prar House Commando's were suddenly roused to action by the call to General Quarters. They began moving from the sleeping quarters to the main hangar bay where the 5 Király Holló's, 17 Bulldogs, 18 Sebes'kad's, 9 Brumak class Heavy Destroyers, and 4 Rhino's were all located. Commando's started loading up in the vehicles getting their final preparations in for the drop.
Meanwhile the Chiss Assault Cruiser continued on it's descent towards the planet's surface, making it's entry in an area just above the KDY yards where the Residential Space Station was, since most of the fleets seemed to be fighting on the opposite side almost. Once between KDY and Kuat itself the Cruiser adjusted it's course and added further power to the engines to make an entry course that would take them down near Kuat City
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 19:49:33 GMT -8
The life of a TIE pilot was a short and violent one; the chances of death were extremely high and brought about a great honour for those whom held the skill to survive. So when nearly three hundred TIE pilots, residing within their craft, broke out in a simultaneous roar of joy; it was because they had lived to see another day. With the sustained losses among the fighter craft breaching the triple digit barrier, many men behind the stick believed that they would be next. That mindset had changed as the last missile fired was intercepted, leaving nothing but the screaming silence of the swarming TIE fighters. For what seemed like minutes, the two hundred and eighty-eight fighters danced about in the void; searching for any remaining targets in which to unleash their wrath. A general consensus of disapproval swept through the remaining squadrons as nothing was found; leaving them wondering if they should commit themselves to another section of the combat theatre, or disengage from the battle entirely as many of the TIE fighters were now bereft of a berth to call home. The latter option was unacceptable, as there was still a battle to be fought. Kuat was not yet made safe by the sacrifices of the brave men and women fighting under the banner of the Dark Tide. Leaving the fight now would mean that the thousands, who had died during the course of this engagement, expired in vain. Vengeance was their only option now. Bereft of an enemy, as the Mandalorian Warlord had begun landing his vessels and leaving the last remaining Behemoth to move away, the twenty four squadrons of fighters swarmed towards the massive ring encompassing the equator. Mere seconds of silent motion, the craft began skimming atop the surface of the crimson shield upon a heading that would take them towards the small contingent currently embroiled in a ferocious dogfight. Adding the vastly superior numbers of the various fighter wings would surely bring that conflict to a swift resolution, one that would be heavily favourable in the Dark Tide’s favour.
Like darting firewasps, they surged towards the battle seeking to come in from an angle that would see them arrive at the outer most edges of the dogfight, meeting up with the three most prestigious operators ever to enlist within the Kuat Navy. From there they would swarm through the remaining hostile starfighters, taking advantage of the power such numbers would be able to bring to bear. Thus ending the conflict in this sector, leaving the only enemy contact upon the others side of the planet. It would be mere moments until they had arrived to reinforce the steadily dropping numbers of their allied TIE pilots, until then each of the fighter pilots gritted their teeth and slowly degraded into a state bordering the primitive animalistic nature of mankind. Each would become a hound yanking at the edges of their leash, howling in anger in the hopes of garnering the scent of their foe’s blood.= Captain Logan Aximand = ~ Commanding Officer of the Nebula- Class Star Destroyer: Designate; Black Caisson. ~ Logan’s eyes opened after several moments of staring off into the darkness of his eyelids. This battle had gone on long enough, leaving thousands; if not more, dead and dying within the unforgiving silence of space. It was nothing more than a pitiful waste to see so many men and women dead at the hands of a mad man, for while one could easily replace a TIE fighter or a Star Destroyer, returning a friend from the abyss of death was something other entirely. It was impossible for a mere mortal to see a corpse return to the realm of the living, with the withered soul within remaining the same. Thus, Logan sought to save as many lives as he could, to rid himself of the demons that sought to tear his soul apart in their grief. So much blood was on his hands, he feared that he would drown within his own despair. He knew death went hand in hand with war; it was an unavoidable consequence of fighting against an opposing force. The battle for supremacy ended when there was only a single side left standing, a victor atop of mound of fallen combatants. That was the only way for victory to be achieved, a true victory that left nothing but agony and despair behind in its wake. Slaying a father would turn the mother and son towards the path of revenge; each death fueling the never ending cycle of war. Such was the way of the galaxy, a fate that could not be changed as each sentient being would fight for what they believed was right. The only thing he could do now was cling tight to his duty and to believe that he had chosen the right side. That’s all that mattered now, for in the chaos of combat one had to fall back upon his training in order to retain a semblance of balance.
Clearing his mind with a heavy sigh, the Captain returned his attention to the projected image before him. His remaining forces had swiftly come about from their previous heading, rising up towards the equator from the southern hemisphere. Like daggers, they plunged through the void with their engines burning bright. The six remaining Victory II Star Destroyers were the first to slip beside the hulking immensity of the Drive Yards, their guns upon their port and starboard sides slowly ratcheting into place. Firing solutions were sent to the vessels, fed through the sensorium suites located within the drive yards themselves and the TIE fighters able to relieve themselves of combat. With a trio of destroyers covering each approach towards the bow and stern sections of the enemy vessel, when they had passed the curvature the first shots would be fired. Corrections would be made when the time had come, but as the data had already been fed to the targeting computers; several crewmen were already working upon possible avenues the stationary vessel may take. Behind the staggered arrowhead formations of the Victory II destroyers, were the two remaining heavy hitters in the Dark Tide armada; An Imperator I and the Black Caisson itself. When they had followed in the footsteps of their smaller cousins, they would arrive at the stern and bow sections; respectively. The full firepower of the heavy guns placed beside the port side of the command tower would be unleashed, a devastating broadside in which would reap a heavy toll upon their foe. The superior weapon systems of the Nebula would be brought to bear not soon after, in such a way that the hostile ship itself would find its fate similar to that of the Hardpoint.
Withdrawing his attention from the display before him, the Captain noticed that his communications officer was attempting to garner his attention. As soon as he looked towards the terminal and the officer currently on duty, a voice crackled to life within his ear. Black Caisson this is Panno Grai'Tal. I was on the Southern front please advise where you need me.
Though with how the battle had been going, Logan doubted that the enemy commander would see reason and fly the banner of surrender from his signalling masts. No, the Captain mused as his arms folded before his chest, I wouldn’t accept the terms of their surrender even if they had gotten out of their ship and begged. He would see to it that no quarter was given to these Mandalorian bastards. Despite the realization he had made earlier, there were times that one needed to fuel the cycle of war in order to survive. It was morally right to take another life if they tried to kill something you have sought to protect. Slaying others in the defense of a friend, while hypocritical from certain points of view was the highest route one could ever take in the aggravating realm of warfare. With a furrowed brow, Captain Aximand turned towards the forward viewscreen, watching as the curvature of the Drive Yards shielding had slowly passed them by. Gunnery control barked acknowledgements into his headset, and the same information had been transmitted through proper Tide channels from the other ships in his flotilla. Within mere seconds they would be in range, and then the thunderous staccato of war would ignite the skies above Kuat; turning the great curtain of speckled night into a blinding canvas of crimson rubies beryl emeralds, and azure sapphires. One side would claim the title of victor, and then the other would be labelled as the conquered. To whom each belonged, Logan did not know; but it was his duty that he would ensure his men and women would live to see another day.Major Navarro Ularc
Flight Leader, GALCOM XJ7 X-wing Flight They're banking starboard, get ready to spread out. Ularc called over the comlink as the lead TIE/ln fighter turned onto its starboard side and began to cut away from Ularc's attack angle. Emerald laser bolts were spat from the TIE's cannons, the first of them slicing through the space wide of his own craft. The following shots, however, hit closer to their mark, one of them grazing his deflector shields as Ularc corrected his attack angle. The enemy TIE fighters began to split their formation, tipping Ularc off to their intention of forming against him. Reacting to the enemy's maneuvers, Orthib and Tell swung wide to port and starboard, opening the trio's formation like the maw of some oceanic predator. Ularc tipped his own fighter onto its starboard stabilizer foils, angling his fighter to match the direction the lead TIE/ln had taken. He dropped his fighter's speed enough to provide him with a sharper maneuvering angle, bringing the lead TIE/ln back into his sight more quickly. This brought him back onto approach more swiftly, though the TIE's greater speed kept its pilot just along the edges of Ularc's attack field, preventing him from being able to shoot at the hostile vessel.
Orthib and Tell maintained their loose formation as the three TIE's cut back again to meet them head on, though now only Ularc was within their firing field. Pouring more power into his forward deflector shields, Ularc began to trace a torpedo lock onto the lead TIE/ln. Once the lock was achieved, Ularc began to pour laser cannon fire into the space forward of the center TIE fighter, leading its approach vector. To compensate for the wide spread of his cannon bolts, Ularc kicked his fighter into a roll, ensuring his shots would arrive in a slightly angled pattern tight enough to center on the enemy fighter's main fuselage.
As Ularc had began making a lock on the lead TIE/ln, Orthib and Tell had began cutting back inwards, closing the maw of the beast that was their formation and sending a stream of offset cannon shots into space, leading their own two targets. Ularc released a single proton torpedo at his foe and began to tip the nose of his fighter upward, coming out of his roll and angling over the three hostile TIE's. Barring any sudden maneuvers, he would cut over their formation upside-down, ready to dip his fighter into a downward loop in order to reengage a third time, though from behind. Orthib and Tell's cannon fire was intended to cut through the stabilizers of the other two TIE/ln fighters, though their attack angle could also prove effective at forcing the three fighters to break their formation to avoid being vaped. Either way worked for Ularc, though he intended on finishing their little dogfight as quickly as possible.
Slowing one’s combat craft to garner more maneuverability was a dangerous ploy if used correctly, however in this case it was nothing more than a laughable gesture. Following through with such an act only revealed one’s intentions, and as his foe had done so Howlrunner knew what his opponent had planned to do long before the crimson warning lights began to flicker. As with many of the fighter craft spawned from Incom’s X-wing series, they were equipped with a warhead launcher that usually carried a payload of Proton Torpedoes. Thus when the missile lock warning chimed softly in his ears and filled the edges of his vision with crimson, the TIE pilot was not surprised. Pulling up on his flight stick as an instinctive reflex, his TIE fighter had avoided the barrage of laser cannonade fire this XJ7 leader had sought to pour into his projected path. In the tope right hand corner of his head’s up display, a module flickered to life and shown the veteran pilot that the bottom edge of his port side solar array had been singed.
Knowing that the fighter was a mere several days from being decommissioned, the accumulated damage he had slowly begun to acquire during this skirmish had mattered little. Though there was a limit to how much damage his fighter could take, and that was the only thing he deigned to keep in mind. He wanted to see the end of this battle through, and to return to his home to see his niece’s smiling face. She had already lost her father during a border skirmish a few years back, losing her uncle and the only living relative she had might throw her into more of a depressing rut than she had already been in. To think, if he had died this day, that the little Harrington girl would grow up in a somewhat chauvinistic society dominated by a woman who thought herself better than a man. While he was certain that she would get along just fine without him, he had been taken with the girl, seeing a lot of his dead brother in the way she acted. It was his link to the past, and he hoped never to lose it.
When the missile lock alarum had broken his train of thought, the man known only as Howlrunner had wondered when that had happened. It wasn’t like he had lost himself into the mists of memory. Shaking his head, ridding himself of the requirement for such a feasibly trivial answer, the TIE pilot felt his adrenaline kick into overdrive. Twisting his flight stick in such a manner he had believed, for a split second that the connection would sever, the balled cockpit spun end over end as the proton torpedo had rocketed past. Biting his tongue as his senses asserted themselves, he had found himself on the plane above his foe and in prime position to swing wide and dip. With the spacing between the emitters on his fighters cannons akin to the tip of the craft he now faced, several direct hits from above in the larger aft section should see the craft destroyed. Smiling as he banked his TIE fighter about and dropping it down to line up his shots, Howlrunner depressed his fingers and held onto them tight. Several volleys spat forth from his underbelly cannons, leaving the box like embrace of his solar arrays and silently screaming towards the aft section of the fighter craft. However as the lead TIE fighter had swung around, it seemed that the lead XJ7 pilot had somehow anticipated the maneuver he was about to make, thus bringing their fighters on a direct collision course should they chose not to stray from their ordained paths. So when Howlrunner had gunned the triggers upon his flight stick, the bolts struck for the engine housings upon either side of the cockpit and the larger sections of the fuselage where the pilot was situated. A game of deadly chicken had begun, and only one would emerge to claim the banner of victory.
As the predatory maw began to shut with the two wingmen angling their craft inwards, the two remaining TIE fighters had dipped onto a lower plane of space leaving their bolts to errantly charge into the depths of space. The two TIE pilots had merely watched as their commander swung his craft above that of his opponents, eagerly trying to garner a target lock so they could claim the XJ7 leader’s life for themselves. That changed as they had noticed the remaining two space superiority fighters had started to close the maw, almost taking up positions behind them in an effort to end this dogfight as swiftly as possible. Having dipped down onto a lower plane of the void, they followed through with their arc only to right themselves behind their enemy as they passed by. Providing a larger target in the form of a giant box with four engine sections attached, they sighted the predictable avenues their foes would take and followed their commander’s prime example. Gunning the triggers upon their flight sticks with such ferocity, sizzling bolts of emerald energy streaked across the stars and sought to end their foes in what looked to be a hail of direct hits.
Upon the edges of their scanners, each TIE pilot began picking up faint signal returns of a familiar sort. No matter what they had turned out to be in the mere moments it would take for them to join in upon the combat playing out before them, it would not end well for one of the two sides when the ever growing wave of pings had finally reached the dogfight...
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Taung H'rel
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 469
Affiliation: Galactic Empire
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Post by Taung H'rel on Jan 17, 2014 20:24:47 GMT -8
The Orar continued to maneuver about out of sight of the w-165 locations, looking for threats to the Mandokar's that went into the atmosphere. A Chiss cruiser had been reported to have entered the atmosphere, but it had been beyond the limn of the planet and the Orar couldnt get a firing solution to engage it with missiles. Admiral Holland was concerned that the now regrouped Dark Tide defense fleet ships were making a move, but initial reports suggested that they were coming in at a different target, over the Andrim Shipyards, which if they got up high enough would become visible enough to fire upon, but had not yet reached that point. There was still that Sovereign out there somewhere, and for now the large ship's job was to protect its vulnerable companions somewhere below.
The Type I class Star Monitor arrived at its desired location, out from the planet off to the right and north of the Andrim Shipyards where most of the action was happening. At this range the ship may as well have been out of the action, but it was seeking bigger quarry, the captain betting that the commander of the Siit's superweapon would be eager to end the threat that was about to emerge and end the battle in one swell swoop. The crafts missile tubes fully reloaded with the monsterous 50 meter long 12 meter diameter cloaked missiles, packing hypermatter containment cells and hypermatter reactors. The ship was ready and its sensor tail reeled in. It would sacrifice some precision in precise ranging information, but it allowed the vessel the ability to maneuver much more violently and quickly than a dragging sensor suite would allow without damage. Everything was primed. Now the waiting game commenced. Would the Dark Tide behemoth bite...or wouldnt it.
The Mishmure'cya counted down its final count, having received exacting information from the Type I Star Monitor about where and when exactly to come out of hyperspace and...fire...at the massive ring of the Kuat Drive Yards. Timing was everything and the limited crew held their figurative breaths as the timer counted down to zero and the massive ship leapt to hyperspace.
Emerging in a rush from hyperspace deep in the gravity well of the planet, having come in from an angle that took it safely by the static defenses of the asteroid clusters at the normal hyperspace entry points. The ship appeared exactly like what it had started its life as, a 4000 meter long Mishmure'cya class Light Star Cruiser. At a second look however the ship did not look like its sister ships that had made their appearance earlier in the battle. She lacked the superheavy turbolaser turrets that marked her sisters, she did retain her secondary battery and smaller energy weapons, which in and of themselves were still formidable to every ship including the Dark Tide Sovereign if it werent careful. But this ship had another purpose. Mere heartbeats after the ship came out of hyperspace, close enough to the planet that the ship was hidden quite well from the observational view of the Dark Tide Sovereign, the frontal bow of the ship began to split along the horizontal midline and open up as a clam shell. Even before the newly revealed armored doors opened all the way a blue glow could be seen glowing from the inside.
On the inside the captain counted down the moments, waiting...waiting...now! He barked the order and the crew member in charge, fairly quivering in anticipation, slammed his hand down on the energize button. A brilliant blue shaft of light shot forth from the ship and reached out the 150 kilometers to strike Kuat Drive Yards in at an angle across the Andrim Shipyards and one of the Machine Shops to the east of it. At the moment the beam contacted the shipyards shields, a massive explosion ripped from one end of the contacted section from one end to another in a massively violent explosion so powerful that sensors would later register the appearance of tachyonic matter normally found in hyperspace, matter that also was part of the superweapon historically used to destroy planets...weapons mounted on the Death Stars, Eclipse, and Sovereign class Super Star Destroyers.
While the beam wasn't powerful enough to breach the shields, it was strong enough to seriously rattle the confidence of the shield technicians within whether or not their shields would hold from a repeated shots from such a weapon.
That was what the galaxy saw. What the captain of the vessel and the Type I Star Monitor knew, was that the powerful holographic emitter had created a shaft of bright coherent but harmless, except to the eyes, light, that touched along the exact path of the torpedo spread that the Type I Star Monitor had fired. As the hologram had covered the surface at the exact moment the torpedoes had impacted mere fractions of a second apart in sequence, releasing their hypermatter warheads and hypermatter reactors had overloaded and each released the equivalent energy of 1 CR90 Corvettes combined reactor output at maximum. A hypermatter reactor malfunction on a Star Destroyer long ago, the Battle Lance, had been completely vaporized the massive craft. While each of these even combined did not come close to the amount of energy released by the prototype Star Destroyer's entire store of fuel, it did make an impressive explosion that would typically put a fully shielded Star Destroyer onto its death bed. That was what the Mandalorian captains who were in on the facade saw....now to see if the ploy would work.
The massive blue beam caught up to the last impact point of the torpedo line and ceased to exist at the proper time for the massive lengthened flair of energy release and expanding energy wave front to appear as if it were the result of solely a beam weapon. Despite this, the explosive line was still impressive to behold, if one knew the truth or not, the shockwave would likely buffet the ships that had just started clustering somewhere near and over the Andrim Shipyards. On the Mishmure'cya, the shields were charged, and the weapons primed, ready for whatever the enemy decided to throw at them...they hoped.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2014 17:26:23 GMT -8
Fleet Admiral Draug watched the display intently as the Leo Transports made their escape run, even if it had been a risky one, it was the only real option they had open to them all things considered. The pilot's had assured him they were confident they could make it out safe, and for a few moments he was hopeful they could do it, but a few seconds later all hope vanished as several torpedoes that the computer had tracked back to the Mandalorian and GALSAF ships collided with the three small ships.
Draug punched the top of the holographic display table in frustration as the Leo's were turned into floating particles of dust. They had come so close to getting everyone out, just a few moments more was all they had needed. He knew they should have sent an escort to protect the ships, not that they could have supplied one, since the Jedi Order and the Republic was meant to be here providing support.
He then turned around and stalked off the bridge, before making his way down through the Acclamator to the hangar bay where Dr Shaewe was currently attending to the first load of civilians. He slowly spproached her, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. He then did his best to try not raise to much attention as he whispered to her
"I need a word Dr Shaewe..." Admiral Draug
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Ander Tagira on Jan 18, 2014 20:21:32 GMT -8
The uncomfortable silence and chill that the void had offered left nothing but focus to well within the minds of the veteran TIE pilots. There was nothing that would distract them from the duty they now faced, leaving them clear headed and ready to counter any maneuvers their opponents would take. Unlike the author, these TIE pilots had managed to understand their enemy’s tactics and set about countering them in a manner they had seen fit. When the TIE/LN fighters had broken off from the main group, banking and dipping to avoid the fire of their advancing foes, the space superiority fighters had seemingly followed suite. Only a single fighter craft had dropped down to a lower plane when the TIE fighters had followed through with their bank and swing, marking him out as the leader and the more intelligent one of the trio. Passing through the lead X-wing’s firing arc and leaving behind a charged ion trail, Howlrunner couldn’t help but think of the confusing nature his foe had taken in the approach to counteract his craft’s seemingly outdated maneuverability.
Slowing one’s combat craft to garner more maneuverability was a dangerous ploy if used correctly, however in this case it was nothing more than a laughable gesture. Following through with such an act only revealed one’s intentions, and as his foe had done so Howlrunner knew what his opponent had planned to do long before the crimson warning lights began to flicker. As with many of the fighter craft spawned from Incom’s X-wing series, they were equipped with a warhead launcher that usually carried a payload of Proton Torpedoes. Thus when the missile lock warning chimed softly in his ears and filled the edges of his vision with crimson, the TIE pilot was not surprised. Pulling up on his flight stick as an instinctive reflex, his TIE fighter had avoided the barrage of laser cannonade fire this XJ7 leader had sought to pour into his projected path. In the tope right hand corner of his head’s up display, a module flickered to life and shown the veteran pilot that the bottom edge of his port side solar array had been singed.
Knowing that the fighter was a mere several days from being decommissioned, the accumulated damage he had slowly begun to acquire during this skirmish had mattered little. Though there was a limit to how much damage his fighter could take, and that was the only thing he deigned to keep in mind. He wanted to see the end of this battle through, and to return to his home to see his niece’s smiling face. She had already lost her father during a border skirmish a few years back, losing her uncle and the only living relative she had might throw her into more of a depressing rut than she had already been in. To think, if he had died this day, that the little Harrington girl would grow up in a somewhat chauvinistic society dominated by a woman who thought herself better than a man. While he was certain that she would get along just fine without him, he had been taken with the girl, seeing a lot of his dead brother in the way she acted. It was his link to the past, and he hoped never to lose it.
When the missile lock alarum had broken his train of thought, the man known only as Howlrunner had wondered when that had happened. It wasn’t like he had lost himself into the mists of memory. Shaking his head, ridding himself of the requirement for such a feasibly trivial answer, the TIE pilot felt his adrenaline kick into overdrive. Twisting his flight stick in such a manner he had believed, for a split second that the connection would sever, the balled cockpit spun end over end as the proton torpedo had rocketed past. Biting his tongue as his senses asserted themselves, he had found himself on the plane above his foe and in prime position to swing wide and dip. With the spacing between the emitters on his fighters cannons akin to the tip of the craft he now faced, several direct hits from above in the larger aft section should see the craft destroyed. Smiling as he banked his TIE fighter about and dropping it down to line up his shots, Howlrunner depressed his fingers and held onto them tight. Several volleys spat forth from his underbelly cannons, leaving the box like embrace of his solar arrays and silently screaming towards the aft section of the fighter craft. However as the lead TIE fighter had swung around, it seemed that the lead XJ7 pilot had somehow anticipated the maneuver he was about to make, thus bringing their fighters on a direct collision course should they chose not to stray from their ordained paths. So when Howlrunner had gunned the triggers upon his flight stick, the bolts struck for the engine housings upon either side of the cockpit and the larger sections of the fuselage where the pilot was situated. A game of deadly chicken had begun, and only one would emerge to claim the banner of victory.
As the predatory maw began to shut with the two wingmen angling their craft inwards, the two remaining TIE fighters had dipped onto a lower plane of space leaving their bolts to errantly charge into the depths of space. The two TIE pilots had merely watched as their commander swung his craft above that of his opponents, eagerly trying to garner a target lock so they could claim the XJ7 leader’s life for themselves. That changed as they had noticed the remaining two space superiority fighters had started to close the maw, almost taking up positions behind them in an effort to end this dogfight as swiftly as possible. Having dipped down onto a lower plane of the void, they followed through with their arc only to right themselves behind their enemy as they passed by. Providing a larger target in the form of a giant box with four engine sections attached, they sighted the predictable avenues their foes would take and followed their commander’s prime example. Gunning the triggers upon their flight sticks with such ferocity, sizzling bolts of emerald energy streaked across the stars and sought to end their foes in what looked to be a hail of direct hits.
Upon the edges of their scanners, each TIE pilot began picking up faint signal returns of a familiar sort. No matter what they had turned out to be in the mere moments it would take for them to join in upon the combat playing out before them, it would not end well for one of the two sides when the ever growing wave of pings had finally reached the dogfight...
Staying just long enough to fire on the incoming TIE/LN, Orthib and Tell each displaced their shields to a 75/25 spread, protecting their aft ends more so than their bow. The lead TIE/LN was already firing on Ularc and they would be safe from forward-facing fire. Orthib attained a lock on the incoming TIE and loosed a torpedo, while Tell banked hard left to cross under her wingmate's approach vectors. Tell had already loosed her stream of fire and was breaking to meet the two TIE's that were already looping back around by now.
Absentmindedly, Orthib noticed approaching vessels on the edges of his sensors, though he was too preoccupied with firing at the lead TIE/LN to take much notice at the moment. After loosing his own stream of fire, as well as his torpedo, however, Orthib broke hard right and came around with Ularc's ship above him and Tell's fighter below him, rejoining Tell to face the other two TIE's, which should already be angling towards them by then. Ularc would stay on a forward vector, whether or not the leading TIE/LN was destroyed, looping back around only after knowing the hostile fighter's fate.
Nearly 60 kilometers from the dogfight, a pair of GALSAF XJ7 X-wings from Zeta Squadron had recently downed a pair of enemy fighters, having lost one of their own in the effort. Catching the nearby fight on their far reaching sensors, the pair of ships broke away from their current position and began to edge their way toward the conflict. The two fighters spread out from one another, giving themselves over a hundred kilometers distance between them. Their job would end up being to harass any of the three TIE/LN's that might attempt to flee the battle, though from what either pilot had seen that day, Dark Tide pilots did not simply drop kit and run when facing harsh realities. |
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Jena Shaewe
Red Dawn Medical Center - RDMC
Posts: 87
Affiliation: RDMC/House Of Shaewe
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Jena Shaewe on Jan 18, 2014 20:54:49 GMT -8
Aboard the Acclamator, Medical Zero-One (RDMC medical ship)
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Smiling, Jena placed a small cartoon character bandage on the arm of the seven year old girl sitting in front of her. She then handed the girl a small box of candies to help take her mind off of the events that had brought her to the med ship in the first place. The girl looked up with a tear stained face and sheepishly returned the smile as best she could. Her injuries were minor, as were many of the peoples injuries who were rescued from the assault on KDY, but the doctors were more worried about the mental trauma that was sure to follow. It was practically a given that some would suffer from flashbacks and/or nightmares, especially the younger people, of the destruction of what was pretty much their home going up in flames of the Mandalorian onslaught. The girls mother thanked Jena with tears in her eyes before taking the girl by the hand and leading her off to another area where food had been set out for the evacuees.
Jena folded her arms across her chest and watched them leave with a somewhat tired expression on her face. Sighing, she walked over to a view port and gazed out into the inky blackness of the space around them, lit up only by the laser fire and projectile trails. She felt every death through the Force, as she was sure every other Force sensitive did, and it pained her....a lot....but she did her best to mask it in the presence of the others. She was deep in thought when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and a whisper in her ear, bringing her out of her reverie. Turning, she looked up into the eyes of the ships commander, Admiral Draug. The look on his face was neutral one, but she could feel that he was about to tell her something she didn't necessarily want to hear. Bracing herself mentally, and physically, she spoke quietly.
"Admiral....if you're bringing me bad news then I suggest we go somewhere more private, away from the evacuees."
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