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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2019 13:51:02 GMT -8
The minutes passed by as the pair made their patrol in seeking out the raiders. The trail had gone cold at the coordinates they split from, making any direction a viable option aside from the way from which they came. Thirty minutes had already gone by and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. If they were out here, it seemed that it wasn't in the direction they went. While there had been some time since the call was made and their arrival, not enough had passed that would have allowed them to get terribly far.
I don't know about you, Ofnir Five, but I don't think they went this way. We would have certainly picked something up by now. Let's head back and regroup with the others.
Xoia nodded at the decision, agreeing that there was nothing out there. Copy that, Ofnir Three. Before she could even turn the the ship, her radar pinged. She looked down at it as a couple readings began popping up. Ofnir Three, I'm getting something on my radar. Straight ahead just within sensor range.
I see it, too. Whatever it is, we seem to be closing in fast. There was a pause, the kind that seemed to build tension before she heard her partner once more, his tones heightened as he realized what they were. Shit! They have fighter support. Four signatures. Increase altitude to 600 feet and prepare to engage.
As ordered, Xoia followed the other TIE as they increased altitude and headed straight into the oncoming fighters. It wasn't long until she could see the reflection of the enemy and they began firing, hoping to bring down a ship or two before they passed. One ship took the hit of both their ships and lost its engines and was sent plummeting to the ground just before they passed by the enemy. What remained was a trio of Z-95 Headhunters. Considered old and outdated in comparison to their First Order TIE fighters, they were still to be taken seriously, especially with their concussion missiles. The battle ensued for a few minutes as the pair broke apart and began to pick away at the fighters, their superior speed and maneuverability giving them more than enough of an edge.
It wasn't long before they brought the quartet down, putting them back on the hunt for the raiders. Things had become more serious with the revelation of the starfighters, which had Ofnir Three calling for the others of the squadron for back-up. A few more minutes passed as they continued on their original path before more signatures came over the radars.
Looks like we finally caught up with them. Let's make a quick pass and scope out the situation. Following her partner's lead, they pressed forward faster, looking to pass over the raiders in hopes to glean some further information before they could respond. The fly-by proved successful as they saw the ground transport beginning to load up into a large shuttle. They had reached the rendezvous point and starting their extraction Looks like we caught up with them just in time. Also looks like they have more starfighters on the ground. It looks like old X-wing models. We'll have to be careful against them. However, we won't be able to wait for the others. We need to bring that transport down, but we need to preserve the crystals. Cover me, Ofnir Five. I'm going to go low on an attack run and take out the engines. Watch for those fighters as they get off the ground.
Copy that, Ofnir Three. I got you covered. As her partner dropped down to line up with a direct shot at the transport, Xoia went high and kept eyes on the X-wings that were taking off to intercept. As they started making their approach, she did her part to keep the enemy fighters off Ofnir Three. All seemed to be good until suddenly alerts began going off. Looking to the ground, two streams of smoke came from the ground, one at her and one at her partner. She had enough time to avoid the rocket fired at her, but her partner could barely get out of the way as he was too close, the rocket impacting the side of the TIE. He pulled up as she heard words of a colorful nature fill the channel.
They have anti-starfighter rocket launchers down there! I've been hit, but not bad. I can't make that run again at that height. We'll need to come up with a new plan as we wait for back up. It's too risky going in at that speed and height with those things.
Xoia made a circling pass as she looked down at the ship. If they waited, the transport would take off and they'd end up losing them or be forced to shoot them down and destroy the cargo. Negative Three. I'm going in for a pass. Try and cover me from there. I can still make an attempt and we now know what to look for. We have another shot and need to take it. Without getting a response, Xoia navigated her TIE into a near-vertical drop.
She took a deep breath as she let everything sink in as her eyes remained fixed forward. She could do this. She just had to keep her eyes and ears open and trust her instincts. Pulling up just before hitting the ground, the fighters skimmed the air just above the icy terrain, kicking up misty dust. She pushed hard down on the throttle as she accelerated faster and faster. She knew her partner would try his best to cover her, but with a damaged craft, he wouldn't be at his best.
The alarms went off as a couple of rockets came at her. Flying in fast, she let instinct guide her as she gave a shift of her controls as the first passed right beside her. Another shift turned the ship on its side as the second passed over the now top of the cockpit. Pulling back up straight took her slightly off-center, but not by much. But a new problem arose as the radar spoke of an enemy fighter right on her six.
Ofnir Five, you have a bandit on your tail. Pull up and get out of there!
However, Xoia gave no response as her senses became more dialed in. She redirected nearly all her power to her rear deflector shields. A couple of shots came and impacted it as she began to weave a bit to buy more time. She just needed a few more moments. Just then, she received an alert from the front. Another rocket was shot at her and with no shield power in front of her, it'd bring her down easy. But she didn't flinch. She waited until the right moment before pulling up and pulling back on the throttle and slowing herself down drastically. The X-wing completely unprepared flew right underneath and was hit by the rocket instead. Accelerating once more and leveling out, she fired and took the ship down.
It was right there, a clear shot at the transport. Reducing the power in her lasers, she fired at the engines and watched as sparks flew from it before pulling up. Like that, the ship was dead and wasn't going anywhere. All that was left was cleaning up the remaining fighters and waiting for their team to arrive. Luckily, they arrived shortly after and helped removed the remaining air threat. It wasn't much longer before the ground team arrived and took custody of the raiders and the cargo, allowing Ofnir Squadron to head back to their patrol.
The trip back to base in order to make repairs to Ofnir Three's TIE was spent discussing what had happened. A full debrief would be done later but already were they talked about what happened.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2019 23:14:17 GMT -8
Xoia and Ofnir Three stood at ease with the building that held the Imperial forces on Ilum. After the mission, a bit of rest was set in motion for the patrol unit while Three's fighter underwent repairs. Though discussed enroute back to the base, now came the official debriefing.
Flight Captain Vesker sat there, looking over the report for a minute in silence before setting the datapad down and leaning back in his chair.
"So, after yor partner received damage and made the call to pull out and wait for backup, you, Flight Officer Reyes, made your own call to make another approach on the enemy?"
Xoia nodded. "Yes, sir."
"And why is that? Why did you feel obligated to disobey the orders given to you by a squadron member who out ranked you? Trying to play the hero? Trying to show off or prove to the world your skills?"
Xoia could feel the tension in his voice. Part of her wanted to lash back at him, but knew it to be a terrible decision. Taking a deep breath, she responded in a calm voice. "Neither, sir. Playing the hero ir trying to show off are pointless and reckless acts that get one killed needlessly. The mission given was to vring the raiders down while keeping the stolen cargo intact. We had our oppertunity. While the first run was ruined due to personnel anti-starfighter rockets, render his ship unable to perform another run, my ship was still capable. There was no reason to not to give it another shot. This time, we had warning of the extra defenses and coukd be anticipated. It was a caculated risk to endure the mission was carried out as instructec. Nothing more, nothing less."
Conrad stood to his feet, listening to her explanation. When she finished, he stood in front of her, his face serious.
"I see. Well, in doing so you showed that you have impressive instincts and reflexes as well as an ability to stay calm when under pressure. The very skills we look for in our pilots. You did as expected, assessed the situation and worked to carry out the mission given to you while not needlessly risking your life. That is what it means to be a pilot of the First Order. Your partner has fully discussed your abilities in combat with me, to which I have to say well done." He then gave them a salute. "Dismissed. Now go rest up and ve ready to move out.
Xoia worked to hold back a smile as she saluted the Flight Captain and departed the building, proud of her acvomplishment. Surely this would prove to her father her skills.
After the two left, Veskar forwarded his reports to First Order command.
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Jenia Kasalle
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Post by Jenia Kasalle on Apr 2, 2020 8:02:26 GMT -8
Thus plans are made to increase over the course of the next months the planetary hangar site, not solely to support the local transport ships, but as well to ensure an increase within the local military garrison. Some among the officers would say that it is ironic, that Grand Admiral Kasalle herself had chosen to gouvern a cold-heart planet like Ilum herself rather than leaving the duty to someone, who had yet to proof his or her worth under her command, yet it was not surprising for anyone who knew the tactical mind of hers. |
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Jenia Kasalle
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Post by Jenia Kasalle on May 17, 2020 8:13:26 GMT -8
 Over the course of the next months, the Imperial Outpost at Ilum would grow into a base, housing most of the First Order's troops and vehicles. Despite the harsh weather conditions, the military complex grew quite large, featuring multiple basement layers and hangars, where the cargo transporters with the mined kyber crystals could land and leave. Further away from the base, several guard and communication towers were created, while the base area itself is constantly patrolled by TIE Harbingers, TIE Signals or the regular First Order TIE fighters.
Overseeing most of the construction herself, Grand Admiral Kasalle tends to plan further extensions of the base from the nearby Planetary Occupation Facility, planning ahead the next moves on how to increase the security systems around the mines and the local Jedi sides in order to keep the ice planet under controll for the First Order.
Regular scout missions, executed by Snowtroopers on AT-TEs or smaller walkers like the AT-RT, were done on a daily base to scout the area for unusual activities. |
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Dread Lord Havok
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on May 25, 2020 8:26:48 GMT -8
ACE1187 thumbed forward on the throttle. The AT-RT leeped forward from the mouth of the garage bay and into the snow.
"Ace Actual to ACE-1, How do you read?"
"Ace-1, Loud and clear."
"We are picking you up on thermal sensors, your operating temperature seems low. We're recommending you do an umbilical check. Over."
Snow troopers wore armor with full climate controls. Infantry troopers had large powercells that could sustain the wearer for long stretches. Mech-cav units also had protective armor with independent climate control power supplies, but only ran on that power when they were disconnected from their mobile equipment. Otherwise they ran their armor suit climate controls with a hard umbilical plug. This allowed seamless integration of their suit's communications and HUD displays with the AT-RT power generator, operational systems, sensors and targeting systems of the mechanical cavalry unit.
ACE brought his ATRT to a halt and looked down at his umbilical running between his waist and the control panel between his legs.
"ACE-1, I copy. Connection check, unobstructed, no ice formation. Diagnostics reading normal."
"Ace Actual, We Copy you. Reading normal. Keep an eye on it. Make sure you don't end up running on suit auxiliary without being aware. Over."
"ACE-1, I copy. Wilco. Proceeding to patrol route now."
The ATRT sprinted across the frozen wastes, a perfect melding of machine and rider.
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Dread Lord Havok
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on May 30, 2020 6:47:48 GMT -8
ACE1187 joined the troopers to feel alive. He felt the most alive running around on his AT-RT. Fresh from the academy as a light recon mech-cav (Mechanical Cavalry), this frozen planet was his first posting. An exact knowledge of the activities at the rapidly growing base were above his pay grade, but he saw enough to know some sort of mining operation was going on involving a crystalline material. His thoughts returned to the present task as he approached the start of the patrol route and first patrol marker.
"ACE-1 reporting the first marker."
ACE Actual, We read you, report.
ACE1187 hit his scanner upload, sending all of his scanner information back to base. He stopped and did a 360 visual scan, before using his macrobinoculars to scan a nearby ridge line about 5.5 clicks to the north of the route.
Ace was looking for glimmers and glints, possibly coming off of units skirting the crest of the ridge to set up observation stations, or other unknown units using the ridge to observe patrols.
"ACE-1, Reporting: Visual scans negative, Macrobi-noc scan of north ridge at 330 degrees, negative."
Ace Actual, we copy you. Interrogatory: Do you see anything at about 10 Kilo-Mike, at 15 degrees, bearing 90?
Ace lifted his macrobinoculars and scanned the horizon at 15 degrees. Using various zoom settings, he did not see anything.
"ACE-1, reporting: Nothing. I don't see anything at that range and bearing. I will check again when I reach the second marker."
Ace Actual, Acknowledged. Over and out.
ACE1187 thumbed the throttle on the AT-RT and sprinted across the white compacted snow trail of his patrol route. He'd reach the second marker in about 15 minutes.
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Dread Lord Havok
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 2, 2020 14:52:17 GMT -8
ACE1187 always could tell when approaching the second marker. Ace rounded a bend in the ice fields and there was a demolished Z-95 Headhunter.
The fighter impacted at a 30 degree angle, and probably exceeded the G-force rating of the inertial dampeners, subjecting the pilot to lethal trauma, assuming he was alive when the fighter crashed. The fighter was shot down in a sortie about a month before Ace arrived on base. Scuttlebutt was some hot-shot pilot pissed off a base commander because she made the kill against orders.
The FO had set up the second marker there, probably to check out the crash and see if they first could capture a pilot, and second, to monitor whether there were scavengers in the area. If there were, the scavengers likely would begin stripping anything they could from the wreck, or other items from the debris field. Nearly everything in the field was LIDAR mapped, and nothing had been touched.
"ACE-1 reporting the second marker."
ACE Actual, We read you, report.
ACE1187 hit his scanner upload, sending all of his AT-RT's scanner information back to base. He did a 360 visual scan, before using his macrobinoculars to scan the horizon at 15 degrees for anything that might be heading due East at a range of 10 Km.
"ACE-1, Reporting: Visual scans negative, Macrobi-noc scan of north at 15 degrees 10 Kilo-mike out, negative."
Ace Actual, we copy you. Stand by.
"ACE-1, Standing by."
Ace looked over at the cockpit of the Z-95. The canopy had cracked on impact, and was partially opened. He could see the pilot's head rolled to the side, blast shield over his eyes, mouth open, left arm on the cockpit sill. Ace always suspected the pilot survived crash landing, to open the canopy before succumbing to either his injuries, a fire, or the cold environment. He wondered which was the worst way to go... He looked closer and he thought could see the glint of the sun off a gold tooth in the pilot's mummified mouth.
Ace Actual, keep your eyes on the sky. Unidentified Aerial Intruder designated Bogie-1 marked and may have landed near the fourth marker. We're sending interceptors. About 10 minutes out. Also deploying backup.
Must be serious if he was getting air support and an AT-ST as backup. As his Father always said, the Empire doesn't fuck around.
"ACE-1, copy that. Interrogatory: what are the rules of engagement if I encounter Bogie-1?"
"Ace Actual, Consider Bogie-1 hostile, weapons free. Repeat, Bogie-1 is hostile, weapons are free. If Bogie-1 engages you, act at your own discretion. Capture survivors if possible."
"ACE-1, copy that, Bogie-1 is hostile, weapons free. Proceeding to the 3rd marker. Over and out. "
Ace Actual, Acknowledged. Over and out.
ACE1187 thumbed the throttle on the AT-RT and sprinted across the white swept snow of the patrol route. The fact that his superiors referred to enemy survivors indicated that they likely figured that the fighters would take out Bogie-1, and Ace would be the first trooper on the scene of the wreckage. Disappointing.
it usually took 30 minutes to reach the third marker. He'd do it in 20. There was alot of flat exposed ground to cover, and he didn't want to get strafed if the Bogie-1 took off before the imperial Flyboys arrived.
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Jenia Kasalle
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Post by Jenia Kasalle on Jun 3, 2020 5:48:37 GMT -8
"General Theyne, status report."
As Harrol Theyne, a short-haired man with a dark skin teint was adressed by his superior Grand Moff, Jenia Kasalle, he wasn't too surprised that she has already left the bureau for the I.P.O.F.'s command center to oversee the activities herself.
"We recently recieved a report about rebell activity on this planet. It's unknown who has entered the planet's atmosphere, but a crashed Z-95 has been found and located by one of the AT-RT scouts", the man reported diligently, showing on a holomap the location of the wreckage, "We have no idea how the starfighter has passed by our scout lines, mylady-"
"It hasn't", the Grand Admiral interrupted the general, much to his surprise.
"Grand Admiral?"
While she was analyzing the situation at hand, Jenia went towards the window side from where she could overlook the wide snow plains of the planet.
"Z-95 Headhunters are favored among pirates, rebells and other scum before the X-Wing was developed, but it has a lot of weaknesses - including the lack of a basic hyperdrive", she continiued to explain, "I tend to believe in the error of one single TIE fighter pilot, but our TIE Signals were essentially developed to even minimize the chances of any new-tech starfighter slipping through our vision. Even the best pilot could not hide an unauthorized visit to the Ilum system, which I already monitor with four TIE scouts, operating from the Charybdis."
"So you are saying that the vessels, which were spotted, had already been on Ilum since the establishment of the new base, Grand Admiral?"
"Correct", Kasalle concluded as her icy eyes met these of the general, "I presume that they are smugglers, people who have built up a hideout on their own and are here to illegally harvest the kyber crystals. There is no other reason why anyone else would be here - the Ilum sector had already been observed since Imperial times and even was managed quite well by forces, which previously occupied the planet due to the First Order's treaties.
It is likely that our predecessors have overlooked these activities, given that until now we had no larger outpost upon this planet."
"One of our officers has considered to send out the TIE Harbingers for the AT-RT's support. They still need to patrol around the local area as we might find out the location of the hideout that way."
"That won't be necessary, general."
Again General Theyne paused, but didn't question Jenia's sudden words. Given that Theyne had in the past worked directly under Colonel Asmus' command, now General Asmus due to Jenia's promotion, he knew that the Grand Admiral valued efficiency within the Imperial Army. And after he thought about his superior's words, his eyes widened as he understood as well, when he looked outside.
"Of course!", he replied, more than satisfied about the brilliance of the Grand Admiral's simple logic, "If the smugglers have a base, they are pretty much locked in. Whether we chase after them or shoot their forces in space, straight in range of our fleet doesn't even matter, because time is on our side. So are the supply lines. I feel like a fool of not having thought of it as well, mylady!"
"Mistakes happen to the best of us, General Theyne, but there is always room to improve for all of us", the Grand Admiral solely nodded, before she gave new commands over comlink, "Kasalle to base, the TIE Harbinger squadron has permission to search for the enemy vessel on the coordinates where it was previously sighted - shoot it down, if you need to but there is no priority in killing a starving fly.
All scout vehicles on ground are to return to base, as we can determine any smuggler activity due to previous reports - a shuttle will secure the Z-95 wreckage found earlier at a later point.
I repeat, scout vehicles on ground are to return to base. The next patrols will be scheduled after the next blizzard."
The Grand Admiral stopped the overall transmission towards the officer command chain, responsible for overseeing most of the Imperial crafts, before turning back towards General Theyne.
"I will inform Commodore Thax of the events which have unfolded, before I wish to discuss matters regarding the snowtrooper training program. Given the new facilities I have thought about further improvements we could do and would ask for your advice, general. It is one thing for me to know spaceship specifications, but when it comes to our ground forces, I always prefer the opinion of those, who are directly in charge of our troops and actually oversee the ground battles."
"Understood ma'am. I'll remain here until orbital defenses have been informed of our current situation."
The general looked briefly after Kasalle, who vanished into her bureau in order to contact the fleet, before attending his buiseness with what he did before the Grand Moff's arrival.
With Jenia's call to retreat the scout forces, the twelve TIE Harbingers, TIE fighters designated for atmospheric fights like the TIE/sk_x1 would take off to do their work at hunting off eventual hostile aircrafts, passing by like menacing daggers some of the scout forces on their way back to base. Given the low temperatures on the ice planet, they wouldn't remain for too long within the scout sector assigned to them, as the astromechs aboard calculated already the chances of upcoming blizzards within the next hours.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 3, 2020 15:49:54 GMT -8
ACE1187 was well on his way to the third marker. He had made good time. He waved as he saw two TIE Harbingers pass overhead. They circled around over him before heading on North in the approximate direction of the fourth marker of Ace's patrol route. In the distance to the left and right, he could also see two more groups of two TIE fighters each.
By this point Ace was about 10 minutes out from marker 3. He could see it over the remaining flat terrain of the plain.
"ACE-1, ACE-1, this is Ace Actual. Do you read me? over."
"ACE-1, I read you."
"Ace Actual, We are pulling all recon patrols back."
The transmission caught Ace off guard. Ace figured some A***hole general got a stick up his butt and decided only the navy was going to 'get some' today. Ace got into the military to get some action, not run away.
"Ace Actual, Command: return to base. Your patrol is scrubbed. Acknowledge. Over."
ACE1187 thought a moment about disobeying, but it probably would only land Ace Actual in trouble. "Ace Actual" was the call sign for the commanding officer of the Imperial Recon Battalion's Alpha Company, P0X1010 (AKA "Pox"). A lieutenant, but a Dam good one. ACE1187 was a lowly lance corporal, but he looked up to the lieutenant.
"ACE-1, I Acknowledge. Returning to base. Setting heading 180 back to the second marker. What's the story? I'm almost at the third marker."
ACE1187 slowed to a trot before turning his AT-RT around and changing his heading to 180. He would retrace his patrol route back to base.
"Well, a general got wind that Imperial Recon Alpha Company has been using the downed Z-95 as a patrol marker. Flight Officer Reyes made the kill. Even though it's been sitting out there for a couple months, your report caused a stir; a general was in the command center when you reported at marker 2. They will eventually send a recovery team for the wreckage."
Ace realized Lt. Pox was leaving alot unsaid. The battalion commanding officer, Capt. LaSort, was probably using this to screw with Lt. Pox. If there was a violation of protocol, LaSort would see to it that Pox took the blame. Pox would never complain, but everyone in the company knew Capt. LaSort was incompetent and had a personal vendetta against Lt. Pox.
"How pissed are they at you, sir?"
"Ace Actual, We'll see you soon. Weather update, Advancing blizzard ETA from 1600 to 1300 hours." Pox avoided responding to Ace's question.
Ace checked the time: 11:33. He'd be back at the base before the blizzard hit.
"Ace-1, Roger."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 5, 2020 12:57:42 GMT -8
TIME: 11:48.
The small droplets of condensation on the inside of ACE1187's helmet visor was the first indication that something was wrong. The environmental system of Ace's Snow Recon armor was supposed to prevent this.
"ACE-1, ETA to second marker 5 minutes. I am reporting condensation in my visor."
ACE1187 immediately did a valve purge and pressure cycle on his suit environmental controls. He heard the mechanical valve purge, and the accompanying high-pitch hiss of the pressure cycle. It took twice as long to complete.
"Ace Actual, reading you Loud and Clear. ETA 5 Mikes. We copy your condensation. Interrogatory: How is your visibility."
"ACE-1, Visibility OK right now. Requesting assistance with environ-sys check list."
"Ace Actual. Pulling up the checklist, Number One: Purge valves."
"ACE-1. Valve purged." Already did that.
Ace slowed his AT-RT from a run to a walk so he could trouble-shoot. He did a quick scan of the sky to see if anything was coming up on him. The AT-RT moved forward at a walk, following the GPS route coordinates on auto-pilot.
"Ace Actual. checklist, Number two: Initiate a pressure cycle."
"ACE-1. Pressure cycle complete."
With the slower speed of the AT-RT, the ETA for marker two changed from five to ten minutes.
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Dread Lord Havok
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 5, 2020 14:26:39 GMT -8
Ace looked down and saw his umbilical through the gathering condensation on his visor. Ice had formed on the Umbilical connection between his suit and the AT-RT. He ditched the checklist.
"ACE-1, Ice on my umbilical. Running Diagnostic. Stand by."
"Ace Actual, Copy, standing by."
Ace did a diagnostics check.
The check returned a fault. A warning chirped in his ear:
"Environmental suit power on Auxiliary."
His suit environmental system had not been running on the AT-RT main power circuit, but running on the suit's own small limited internal power.
"ACE-1, Reporting, Umbilical fault detected, Suit power on Auxiliary."
"Ace Actual, What are your current auxiliary power levels?"
Ace checked his Auxiliary power levels.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 13, 2020 10:07:04 GMT -8
The AT-RT trundled on towards Marker 2 on autopilot.
Ace checked his Auxiliary power levels.
That exact moment a louder warning sounded.
"Auxiliary power at minimal levels."
The warning meant the suit's power was low. The suit software automatically began rationing power by shutting down less essential systems, and running other functions at reduced levels. This would allow the air-tight armor continue to draw power for the environmental systems to preserve the wearer the longest.
"ACE-1, Declaring: Auxiliary suit environmental power minimal. Just got the warning."
"Ace Actual, Say again, Say again. We do not copy you. What are your current auxiliary power levels?"
The range for his comlink was probably impacted by the reduced power. He didn't have time. He had to get back to base.
Ace hit the manual switch to boost the power on his comlink.
"ACE-1, Declaring: Auxiliary power minimal. Power MIN-UH-MAL!" He over pronounced the last word. Unfortunately, the more he talked the more his visor began to fog.
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Dread Lord Havok
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 14, 2020 6:24:04 GMT -8
ACE1187 blindly wiggled his umbilical connection, hoping it would boost his power or bring main power to his suit through his AT-RT back online. Unfortunately the gentle rocking of the AT-RT, and Ace's lack of feedback through his gloved hands... the umbilical cord sheered off. Damit!
"Ace Actual, We copy you. Declaring minimal auxiliary power."
ACE1187's mind raced: His suit power might be able to get him back to base even if he was blind, if he conserved power. His AT-RT would follow the patrol route on autopilot. But it would take twice the time, and with a blizzard was incomming-... Autopilot wouldn't get him back in time, and the blizzard would, in all probability, kill him.
He boosted his comlink power again, using up more of his reserve.
"ACE-1, Declaring Emergency. Requesting Evac. I'm not going to make it back to base." He winced that his words fogged up his visor again. "When I talk, my visor fogs up and I am blind. I am going half-speed. I repeat, I will not be making it back to base. Requesting Evac!"
"Ace Actual, Say again, Say again. We do not copy you."
"ACE-1, Declaring Emergency! Requesting Evac!"
"Ace Actual, ACE-1: Say again, Say again."
Ace swore to himself. There wasn't much point doing it aloud. He couldn't reach Ace Actual and continuing to attempt to would fog his visor and drain more power.
"Ace Actual, ACE-1, Do you read us? We do not copy you."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 20, 2020 7:24:20 GMT -8
TIME: 12:01
He passed Marker two, 2 minutes ago. He would be be at Marker one in 28 minutes. The storm was due in 60 minutes.
He sat on his AT-RT as it walked, waiting for his visor to unfog. If he could see, he could turn off autopilot and move at max speed.
As he waited, he ruminated and conserved power.
There were enemies and friendlies in the sky. He couldn't be certain that an evac shuttle could land if there was a nearby fighter battle. He was a sitting duck if a enemy strafed him.
Air. Cold. Power. Suffocate blindly in an airtight suit. Freeze to death but see and breath. It didn't help that his AT-RT didn't have a true survival kit. Just an emergency locator beacon that would broadcast his position on all channels, to friend and foe. A great big, "come here and shoot me if you can!"
He carefully weighed his chances for survival without his helmet when his thoughts were interrupted.
A Main System Warning sounded, with a flashing red icon on Ace's visor HUD.
"Auxiliary power critical."
The warning meant the suit-power was nearly gone. The suit software automatically began shutting down ALL systems except the environmental system, which would run at extremely reduced levels. Ace's HUD on his visor turned off, as well as other passive systems, including the visor heater. Almost immediately, more moisture began to condense, and around the periphery of his view, the telltale signs of frost crystals began to accumulate. He had mere minutes left.
He couldn't boost enough power to be heard on comms. He couldn't make it back on his own before the blizzard hit. If he activated the locator beacon, at least they would be able to find his body... or...
He had a thought that resembled a glimmer of hope.
He made the decision.
He activated the emergency locator beacon.
He manually overrode the power conservation of his suit.
He throttled up the AT-RT and punched its speed to maximum.
The suit Visor heater kicked in and the ice crystals and fog began to dissipate. Just enough for what he was about to do; for it to not be considered suicidal.
He grabbed the control yoke and turned the AT-RT to head back to Marker Two.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 27, 2020 7:26:07 GMT -8
*TIME: 1205*
ACE1187 approached Marker 2, and jumped from his loping AT-RT with a running dismount. He hit the ground with a grunt and ran for the Z-95 headhunter fighter wreck.
His suit was beeping a warning as systems lost power.
"BEEP BEe Bbeee bbe bee bee be be be be b-" the alarm faded.
With his elevated breathing rate, his helmet visor misted. Ace ditched his helmet. Suddenly blinded by the glare of the snow and wind, he staggered, shielding his face. Through his fingers he could see the ship.
He found the ship in the same condition he left it. Cracked partially open canopy, Dead pilot in a flight suit. Though Ace could not see it, he was sure the dead pilot, mummified by the exposure to the frozen wastes and low humidity, was still grinning.
Ace crouched and reached into cockpit searching...
"Some things survive crashes. Some things, like power cells."
He was looking around in the shadows for the powercells that would power the z-95 pilot's environmental unit if he had to eject. Most environmental power cells used a standard power rating and interface making them nearly universal.
The breif exposure to the mid-day sun reflecting off the radiant snow had partially blinded him, and he felt the cold already creeping into his fingers. His gradually numbing fingers struggled to feel for powercell size/shaped objects. His hand kept on getting caught on wires and twisted metal.
"Its really HARD to find-."
He briefly wondered if the ejector's seat was still primed and functional, as he felt around the ejector pull handle between the dead pilot's legs.
Then, he felt it. A cold cylinder under the Pilot's seat, behind the forward seat strut. He pulled and couldn't get it loose.
"Frack!"
Ace dove into the cockpit head first, upside down, with his head between the pilot's legs. His legs hanging outside the fighter. He squinted, his sight just beginning to recover.
He could see the cylinder- the wires- the connector- and the clamp connecting the unit to the pilot's seat, right next to the ejector seat chemical fuel tanks. The powercell probably also was the backup power for the ejector seat ignition system.
He carefully (as carefully as he could while shivering) rip/pulled the powercell out of the clamp, and examined the cell. It seemed to be un-punctured and un-corroded.
Ace could feel the cold in his body taking hold. He struggled to extract himself from his inverted position, his adrenalin starting to fail him. He couldn't feel his face; his eyelids were frozen in a squint; his gloved hands were as clumsy as toes. He extracted himself from the cockpit and sat feeling for his suit powercells.
The rapidly advancing cold front and blizzard, adding to the normally extreme temperatures had made this particular day a perfect disaster for this sort of occurrence. He had done cold weather survival training before, but at temperatures perhaps 50 degrees warmer, At 244 degrees Kelvin.
He pulled his depleted auxiliary powercells out, looking around in the dazzling snow around him for his helmet. He could barely spot it 10 meters away. He inserted the scavenged powercells and climbed to his feet. His body had stopped shivering and all he could feel was a euphoric warmth as he walked tiredly to his helmet. His legs felt so heavy with every step. His arms felt so heavy as he reached to pick up his imperial recon helmet. He lost his balance and fell over, helmet in hand.
He lay on his back in the snow, his frozen eyes staring at the sky. Over the sound of the wind, Ace could feel the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. Like the sound of his mother's heart as she would hold him and rock him to sleep as a child...
and he felt himself drift...
away...
******
ACE1187's heart stopped
TIME of death: 1212.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 2, 2020 4:57:51 GMT -8
TIME: 1125.
"Why the the frack did you have to go outside?" Silas was using her inside voice to yell at Dudge.
"I just wanted to scout and make sure the skies are clear before we take off." Dudge tried to explain to the captain.
"The commscanner picked up an increase in Imp communications. They're on to us." She was pissed. "Besides we're leaving during the storm; the skies ain't going to be clear."
"Captain, You don't know they wasn't having some other party-wot-event. It could be a coincidence!" He further offered. "Oi forgot."
Captain Silas was regretting having explained "coincidence" to Dudge in one of their last conversations.
"Our YT-2400's are nearly full. We've prospected out here for almost two years. We have almost 450 metric tonnes of kyber crystal ore and today, The day we're planning to leave, you decide to blow our cover?" Silas was using a tone that communicated "How the hell did your mother not smother you, for being this dumb?"
Dudge looked down at the ground. "Yeah, I just wanted to fly our z-95 one more time."
"I don't forgive you, but I do understand." Her voice softened ever so slightly. "Go bother your brother."
Dudge trundled off to look for Funk. "I find Funk."
She recruited those dumb Gamorreans for their muscle, not for their brains.
Captain Silas looked around the inside of their small freezing base that had been her home for the past 3 years. She wasn't going to miss it. It had been a headache prospecting to find the vein of ore. But she was lucky enough to have found the old smuggler base, which was a big clue that there was nearby ore. They managed to fit their three YT-2400's and lone z-95 in the concealed hanger area. It was going to be a crap-shoot if the freighters flew. Fortunately Snifter and Chestera were on that job. They said they would fly, and Silas believed them.
She walked away from the hanger area, towards the control center. Control center? No, more like a room with a commscanner, hanger door controls and 4000 empty tins of "CHAMP" canned meat. (It satisfies!)
They planned to leave planet-side with the approaching blizzard. The Imps would be less reluctant to chase them in the storm. They might even make it into orbit and past any picket ships in the area. That was going to be the trick. And everyone was trusting her to make that happen. She wouldn't let them down.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 13, 2020 5:32:15 GMT -8
*TIME: 1205*
*Silas sat by the commscanner, with her feet up, listening to the encoded imperial chatter. She couldn't understand any of it, and doubted a translator droid could too. It almost seemed comforting when you listened to it long enough.*
Silas' first mate, Chestra, approached her.
"What is it Chestra?"
"Snifter and I are all loaded up. Yung and Chaser are too. Funk and Dudge... are as much as I can tell. Not really sure I can tell the difference between their personal effects and garbage."
*It was true, once Funk had spent an entire month jazzed about a shiny bolt he found. He insisted it was made of a precious metal. And the entire month, Dudge kept on trying to compete or cheat Funk out of it. Thats Gamorreans for ya.*
Silas kinda loved that about the brothers. They were almost more like mascots. Generally funny in their simplistic view of the world, but not really self aware of their own deficiencies. They always managed to make the most mundane situation ridiculous. It was a wonderful quality for the endless months they had spent on Ilum digging for Kyber crystals.
"Whatever they leave behind, they can always find more." *she dropped her feet and leaned forward.*
"So here's how we're going. I'm taking Gopher-1, with Funk and Dudge. You're taking Gopher-2 with Snifter, and Yung and Chaser are taking the Hopper."
"Snifter is going to appreciate that." Chestra shook her head, thinking about the headache she and Snifter were avoiding.
"Well you guys took the brothers last time, and it was a clusterfuck. I'm not letting them out of my sight. I'll set my blaster for stun and knock them out if they do it again." Silas was referring to the time Funk and Dudge nearly spaced each other on a dare... while in hyperspace. The airlock outer doors wouldn't open and they nearly pounded their way through.
*beep beep* The commscanner continued with a series of unencrypted chirps.
The sound pulled Silas out of the conversation and back to the scanner. She turned to the machine, listening.
"Captain?"
"Its an emergency signal. When everything is encrypted on this planet, the only thing the Imps wouldn't encrypt is an emergency transmission."
*Chestra waited for Silas to explain further.*
"Imp protocol would be to divert some forces to search and rescue, but with the storm..." Silas turned to check the weather scanner. She whistled. "Dam its almost here. Chances they are going to pull all units to try to do a recovery before the storm hits in... About 40 minutes."
"Which gives us a window!" Chestra exclaimed.
"Which gives us a window." Silas smiled. "Fuel everything up. We're leaving."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 20, 2020 14:26:07 GMT -8
TIME 1255.
SEVERE BLIZZARD WARNING OUTLINE UPDATE FOR WS 388
NWS STORM PREDICTION CENTER ILUM, COMMAND ALPHA.
1245 CDT
SEVERE SNOWSTORM WARNING 388 IS IN EFFECT UNTIL 1900 CDT
FOR THE FOLLOWING LOCATIONS
SDC005-007-015-017-033-041-047-049-055-059-065-069-071-073-075-
085-095-102-103-107-117-119-121-123-210000-
/O.NEW.KWNS.SV.A.0388.200720T1815Z-200721T0000Z/
Hazardous Weather Outlook
IMPERIAL Weather Service
354 AM MDT
SDZ001-002-012>014-024>032-041>044-046-047-049-072>074-211300-
ILUM, ALL PATROLS
This Hazardous Weather Outlook is for portions of northwestern ILUM, OF A 45KM RADIUS, centered on base ALPHA.
.DAY ONE...Today and Tonight
Snowstorms will begin afternoon and continue through the the afternoon, then intensify
in the late afternoon. Some storms may be severe in the afternoon and
evening, with a large amount of snow accumulation and damaging winds.
.DAYS TWO THROUGH SEVEN...Tuesday through Sunday
Isolated storms will be possible each day through the rest of the
week. A few storms may be strong or severe each day.
.SPOTTER INFORMATION STATEMENT...
Spotter activation may be needed today.
&&
Stay tuned to IMPERIAL weather radio for further updates...
A BLIZZARD WARNING MEANS THAT SEVERE WINTER WEATHER IS IMMINENT. PATROLS ARE TO SEEK SHELTER. BLIZZARDS CONSIST OF HIGH WIND, CAPABLE OF DESTABILIZING HIGH-PROFILE VEHICLES. SIGNIFICANT SNOW ACCUMULATION, HEAVY AT TIMES, MAY BECOME AIRBORNE AND CAUSE DRIFTING. DECREASED VISIBILITY ANTICIPATED TO IMPAIR OPERATIONS AND ACTIVITIES. IN ADDITION TO SNOW, AND WIND, A BLIZZARD MAY BE ACCOMPANIED BY A DANGEROUS DROP IN TEMPERATURE UNSUITABLE FOR FIELD OPERATIONS.
...
[THE REPORT REPEATS]
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 21, 2020 5:25:37 GMT -8
TIME: 1215
"All systems go, temperature optimal. Shuttle MER-504, ready for take off." Pilot and copilot had all switches set.
"Tower reads you, Proceed."
"Permission to take off." The Pilot put his hand on the throttles.
"Permission Granted."
The Pilot engaged the throttles, and the repulsors and engines thumped and hummed awake from their winter sleep.
A Military Emergency Response shuttle lifts off from Ilum Base Alpha. It follows the coordinates of an emergency tracking beacon that went live at 1207 hours. The report corresponds with command losing contact with a recon AT-RT unit in the same vicinity as a reported Bogie-1.
"MER-504, two TIEs are escorting." The tower gave them the heads up.
"I see them!" The report on the shuttle intercom came from the starboard waist-gunner currently acting as a lookout.
Two TIE Harbingers joined the MER shuttle.
Given the proximity of the call with an impending severe storm, this might be the only chance the imperial forces have to respond. With the corresponding drop in temperature of the approaching storm, the conditions would be punishing indeed.
Ilum Command further withdrew other TIE Harbingers from other operations in the area to form a wider defensive perimeter for the rescue operation.
Copilot: "Four TIEs inbound. They called the riot squad."
"I see them!" The portside waist-gunner reported in, echoing the other gunner's words.
"Cut the chatter you two and keep your eyes on the ground." The Copilot interrupted. "Let the fighters worry about situational awareness."
Both waist-gunners went back to scanning the ground with thermal imagining scopes.
The MER-504 began a series of scanning sweeps of the area near a crashed z-95 fighter.
"I am getting a reading, faint, at 0270..." One of the gunners called out. "Might be a body." He transferred the scan data to the flight medic.
The medic examined the scan report. "Scanner readings are consistent with a cooling body. I say we take a look."
The copilot called it in.
"Tower Tower, this is MER-504, I think we might have something. We're going in for a look."
"Acknowledged. Keep us posted."
The MER rolled in a turn to heading 270 and dropped like a stone from 1000 meters to 100 meters, before slowing and rolling upright to a hover at 10 meters.
The shuttle did a slow pass near the z-95.
"I see him! There!" One of the gunners pointed out the body of a recon-trooper laying in the snow, his helmet off. No small feat to spot white armor in white snow...
Pilot: "There's a debris field, doc, so you'll have to drop in. We'll find some place to put this bird down and be with you in a minute."
"Lets save somebody!" The flight medic gathered his equipment. The tail ramp lowered to allow him to repel into the snow. The medic was on the ground in moments.
The waist-gunners watched, tense. They manned their window-mounted heavy blasters, ready to provide a hail of fire support to protect their medic if this was a trap.
Time: 1230
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 952
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 27, 2020 18:01:24 GMT -8
*TIME: 1232*
The medic found Ace where he lay. His face had turned black from severe frostbite.
He reported in: "I found him. We got a trooper. Severe frostbite."
"Hey Trooper! We gotcha!"
The medic shook the recon trooper by the shoulder.
span style="color:#ddaade;"] No response.[/span]
"Hey, ARE YOU OK?" The medic shouted, and vigorously shook the trooper again.
No response.
"We're going to need a stretcher, Patient not responsive."
The medic slipped Ace's glove off and put a device on his finger.
Behind the Medic, the MER set down in the snow 50 meters away.
Within moments medical data began streaming to the medics HUD.
"HR:0 temp: 30 degrees standard."
"Oh Shit! I need a stretcher, Oxygen, and a defibrillator, stat!"
The shuttle load-master was already on his way pushing a repulsor stretcher.
The medic pulled an microsyringe from his medic bag, and injected the trooper in the neck with adrenaline. He couldn't give chest compressions through the trooper's armored chest plate, and it was took cold to attempt to remove it. they had to get him out of the elements immediately... The medic looked around and saw the troopers helmet several meters away. He retrieved it and put it on the trooper.
The Loadmaster arrived with the stretcher, and together, they put the trooper on the stretcher and rushed him back to the shuttle.
"Get ready for lift off!"
As soon as they got up the ramp, the shuttle's engines fired up and the shuttle began rising. The Loadmaster raised the ramp.
The Medic tore off the trooper's chest plate and placed electrodes to administer an electric shock.
The pilots transmitted to base: "MER-504, returning to base! Trooper, male, non-responsive, cardiac arrest, facial frostbite, hypothermia. Have a bacta tank ready!"
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