Once More Unto the Breach

[Rom]

Silence reigned in the system where Raxus Prime floated endlessly through the Void. Once it was the jewel of the Tion Cluster, covered in palaces and catered to lords and kings. Gilded walls, men vying for power, and the intrigues of Court politics dominated this planet. The corruption rotted outward some said; a dirty heart led to the dirty surface, covered in the trash and refuse of a thousand worlds that piled high until the very landscape was forgotten, buried under toxic refuse and pools of waste. Yet the planet had always been a treasure trove for those who sought to hide; sensors were nearly useless with all the garbage obscuring things, and the very ground you walked on could contain treasure for antique dealers.

But on this day, something was about to happen that had not happened in an Age. A Lord was returning to Raxus Prime, and he planned to make it a jewel so bright that it burned all who sought to hide on it's surface.

The Imperial 3rd Fleet moved like wraiths through morning fog, blurring through hyperspace in grand style to prepare for the counter-attack. These Tionese dogs had thought themselves wolves, and dared to challenge the Empire only days before... today they would learn the price of their arrogance.

Standing in the center of the bridge on the Titan-class Star Destroyer, The Sovereign's Fist, Vereor slowly clenched his own fists as he looked over the sensor readings. The entire fleet was formed up on his command ship, ready to emerge from hyperspace right around the planetary orbit of Raxus Prime. They all had their orders, extensive battle plans having been drawn up during the trip.

The Fleet consisted of one Titan-class Star Destroyer; the Sovereign's Fist, two Pantheon-class Star Destroyers; the Iron Price and the Widow-maker, one Miasma-class Battlecruiser; the Requiem, one Aegis-class Frigate; the Hunter's Pride, one Asiadon Frigate; the Imperator, one Tempest-class War Frigate; Grond, two Praetor-class Corvettes; the Event Horizon and the Targaryen, and two Reaver-class Corvettes; the Ascendant Justice and the Forward Unto Dawn.

They were to be his force, as declared by Commandant Arcturus Wolfgang, to destroy the Tion Coalition, and any other rebel force he should find.

The mission was simple; due to the torture he had put the captured soldiers through, as well as the data mined from the gunships navicomputer, they had the exact coordinates of the Tionese base on the planet Raxus Prime. They would emerge from hyperspace after a short series of microjumps to get them into the correct positions in a surrounding ring around the Garbage Planet. The Sovereign's Fist and the pair of Pantheon destroyers would activate their gravity well generators the minute they emerged from hyperspace, preventing any chance of escape. The Aegis and Asiadon would maneuver into position, ready to bombard any fleeing ships attempting to escape from the base through the atmosphere, while the Reavers activated sensor jammers around the planet, preventing any ships on the edge of the system from getting accurate readings and keeping the planetary force blind and unable to call for help.

The 3rd Fleet would create an effective blockade, keeping the Corvette's, Frigates, and a single Pantheon towards the front of the line while the other two Star Destroyers prowled the edge, ready to destroy anything that was able to navigate through the band of TIE fighters launched from the Miasma carrier that would swarm in between the two layers.

Once any space-side forces were disabled, the Sith would turn their attention to the surface, landing a fighting force of Stormtroopers, Soldiers, and Sith to claim the base and the information therein. The orders were simple; not a single rebel left the planet alive or unchained. If they surrendered, they would be taken in peacefully without any unnecessary loss of life and given a trial to answer for their rebellion. If they chose to fight... then they would be smote to ruin on the surface of the garbage planet.

Glancing at the Commanding Officer, a Admiral Stark, Vereor hummed tunelessly under his breath, the strange hissing hum drawing several glances from the bridge crew. Admiral Stark was a hard looking man;. a long face framed by dark hair with grey eyes that seemed to be like chips of duracrete. His closely-trimmed beard was beginning to grey, making him look older than his years, but the Admiral had a reputation within the Imperial Navy. If a job needed doing, he would see it through to the end; and he had never lost a naval engagement yet. The Corellian and Barabel had talked long into the night cycle, discussing their plans for the engagement. The other commanders knew to sound battle-stations when they were a half hour from their destination; they wanted to emerge into the system with shields up, generators ready to prevent escape, and fighters boiling from their berths.

“Mi'lord, everything is ready amongst the fleet. We will be emerging from hyperspace in a few minutes on the edge of the planet's gravitational field and will move into position to blockade their escape vectors and hem them in.”

The Barabel nodded his head and took stock of his own readiness; weapons strapped to his side, armor on and ready to be pressurized, commlink set to access the command channel as well as his squadron and the garrison force waiting to deploy... and the Force coiled tightly around him like a balloon filled with death, ready to burst over the enemy and turn them to ash. They were as ready as readiness could get them; now it was time to do his part.

“You know your orderz, Admiral.. I want every single rebelliouz scum dead or in chainz before we leave thiz system.”

With those words he spun on his heel and stalked off through the ship like some sort of vengeful devil, his tattered cloak snapping out behind him in an invisible wind.He moved quickly, wanting to be in the hanger with the men and women of Tailz before they dropped out of hyperspace. Like the battle a few days ago, he would be leading from the front; guiding his starfighter into the worst of the fighting like a screaming valkyrie to dispense death and the Empress' justice. Ten minutes later he was seated ontop of a munitions box, looking at the men and women assembled before him. Two were of his own; Sith Acolytes who showed promise and skill in battle, eager to earn their keep. One was his age, an agile warrior armed with a metal sword; Acolyte Seiji Yakiya. The other, an Anzati warrior named Acolyte Vixur Kolvaar. They would be joining him in the Void and on the toxic planet itself, and both thrummed in eagerness to join with the enemy.

The others were a motley collection of sentients; veteran pilots of the Imperial Navy, who had seen action against the Galactic Alliance. Six Corellians, a Devaronian, a Twilek, and an Iridonian made up the rest of the twelve-man squadron designated “Tailz” under his personal command. They had flown true with him against the Tion Coalition a few days before, and were eager to do so again. Especially with his next announcement.

“Ladiez, Gentlemen, and Bronn,” the Sith Lord paused, allowing the pilots to rib and laugh amongst themselves while they nudged the Corellian Bronn who had spent most of the trip in the brig for making rude comments towards a female officers' chest. The pilots and he had built up a camaraderie since the battle, and it was one he hoped to nurture; one could never have too many allies within the military. “We will be emerging from hyperspace shortly to take the battle to the cowardly sonz of bitchez who dared to attack that convoy a few dayz ago. They fled after we decimated their rankz, all without uz losing a single ship. This one believez he promised you all shore-leave and a raise for surviving that battle when we return to Bastion, and would like to make an additional caveat – for every confirmed kill, you gain an extra day of shore leave. Now get to your shipz; there are rebellious men and women on that planet below uz, so let'z kill them and be done with it.”

A cheer went up from his pilots as they rushed off to their ships, twelve shining TIE Reavers resting nearest the hanger doors. Vereor walked calmly towards them, the two acolytes on either side of him.

“You two will be this onez wingmatez; you will follow this onez directives and accept the meld once the fighting has started. Stay close, and if either of you die this one will get the Sorcerorz to summon your dead spiritz so this one may kill you both himself. Any questionz? Then get to your fighterz.”

The Tailz squadron went through their checklists, as across the fleet men and women did the same. They were the fighting force of the Empire; when they emerged from hyperspace, they would be ready for whatever awaited them. The Sovereign shuddered as it reverted into real space, surrounded by the rest of the 3rd Fleet, and for a moment Vereor allowed a tingle of excitement to thrum through his body. This wasn't just a pirate raid anymore; battle would be joined and it would be glorious.

“Tailz Squadron.... lead the charge.” And with those words the fighters rose and began to boil out of their hangers all across the fleet, as gravity well generators activated, weapons warmed and were primed for use, and shields were brought to bare as the fleet maneuvered to hem in and blockade Raxus Prime. Vereor kept his senses extended, keeping a wary eye out for traps and the like. They would know shortly what kind of naval force they would be facing and with the gravity wells up, they would have to stand and fight. Then the real battle would begin on the ground.

There would be no escape this time.

 

[Core]

A floating metal city, surrounded by an endless nether realm, as impressive and spectacular as it was impossible to imagine. Yakiya Seiji had not been born a civilized man, and though he had lived among the Sith for a short while, it was occasions such as this that he felt like he, and everyone else, were little more than blades of grass in the universe. The lizard lord which had been there with his serpentine eyes as Yakiya fell on Korriban seemed to blaze with anger, no less than he always did Yakiya surmised.

He prepared himself as the lizard spoke his words, nodding his head and readying his flying gear and preparing his mind. He still bore his metal sword even now, the heirloom never left his side, as he moved to board the TIE fighter, alongside the other acolyte and the esteemed Darth. Strapping himself in, he felt his stomach churn as the dagger-like ship stabbed at the blackness, shunting from hyperspace into realspace. This was the signal. The engines, pre-fired and ready for a rapid launch, quickly responded to the slightest application of force to each of the many pedals. His training in this craft had been sufficient, though he imagined that there could feasibly be aces among the Tion to match his skill.

None to match him, he thought as his eyes turned to Vereor's craft. Within moments the trio were launched into space, followed by a swarm of bees eager to lash out at anything unfortunate enough to be caught in the field of battle. He followed Vereor closely, his eyes scanning simultaneously the scanners and the viewport, eager to see an unnatural glint of light in the distance, a telltale sign of sunlight reflecting off metal that could be detected thousands of miles away with even the average human eye. The Tion had no doubt been taken by surprise, but it was when a cat was backed into a corner that it revealed its claws and its ferocity. Yakiya surmised that, either the Tion would fight valiantly, but vainly, to their death, or they would be cowardly dogs, running with tails between their legs to live another day. Yakiya's cybernetic hand clenched in muted anger as he thought about the latter possibility.

 

[Just Matt Now]

The mass of ships and vessels that they had brought with them filled the scene and made it clear if it's only intention. If those that led the Tion Coalition thought it best to attack the Sith Imperium, then no mercy would be shown onto them. This mass of ships was ready to strike, and once it did nothing would follow but destruction and death. Being a sort of enthusiast of ships, having spent most of his life on them, Vixur enjoyed the spectacle that it brought. Obviously being inside the hangar gave no impression of the true might of their force, his imagination fed him all he needed. They had come prepared to fight hard, he only hoped that their preemptive strike wouldnt completely obliterate the defenses before he ha time to take out his star fighter.

The Anzat stood next to his nameless Z-95 Headhunter in the larger Reaver. Nameless because the Anzati people did not believe in names, and so this ideal was adopted onto his fighter. The dark space would soon see the nameless ship take the lives of the defenders, or their attackers if they were foolish enough. Seeing Lord Vereor once more was pleasing, and to fight alongside of him would be refreshing, especially in the air. He could trust no one else to hold up their end to lead the squadron than the Darth. He was unaware of the other Acolyte who would be taking part along the Darth's side, though he only wished he could trust him. As Vereor spoke to his squadron, his words filled with the passion that would ignite the fires in each of them. Vixur knew that this would be no cake walk. They would be leading the forces into battle, and if the Tion Coalition was even half smart, they would be ready and on the defensive as son as they knew they were under attack. Though this dark though plagued the Anzat. Were they foolish if they decided to defend themselves? Surely they would be known for their cowardice if they bowed to the Sith, but the forces they had brought to silence them was more than enough to accomplish the task. So would if be so foolish to outright defend your people against enslavement, rather than death?

The decision would soon be made, and if they chose to fight, the the pleasure of taking their lives would be all on the Anzat's face.

Ready to board his nameless fighter, he was prepared for the darkness of space. However it would not be so dark. With the planet in their sight, and the mass of ships and vessels just behind them, the battle would be a colorful one. Standing next to the Darth himself, he wondered when it was their part, when would they have the chance to fight. He was patient, The humming of the engine vibrated through the Acolytes body. He was used to this, the shift into lightspeed, the drop in gravity wells, he embraced it. The metal butterflies that would once have filled his stomach seemed to be much less. He was used to dogfights, his love for space having been gone for over centuries. His experience in flying being undoubtedly the reason for his position alongside the Darth himself. He would show no fear, he would show no mercy. The time for vengeance was upon them, and they would show that the Imperium was nothing to mess with.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

"Get a move on! Anything that can't be loaded onto the transports, I want a detpack strapped too!" Men and women bustled about the former Tion Coalition headquarters, prepping every last terminal or piece of technology for a move. Darmas Thane was under a lot of pressure as of late. With two of his associates meeting with the Sith Imperium, not to mention the failure to recover his men at the battle two days ago, Darmas and the other Coalition leaders felt it imperitive to begin a move. The move was started about a week before the battle, with supplies like the Riptide Hovertanks and the prefab structures moved to their new base in the Tion Cluster.

Since then, they had moved most of the important materials out of their former Raxus Prime Headquarters, but Darmas had come here to make sure that there was no trace of the Coalition. The Tion Coalition had been exposed to multiple security threats, so he was taking every precaution, such as distancing contact with his multi-allied associates and changing security codes and clearances after he got back from the battle. With this final move, they would be loading out the Guardian Corps, which they had left here till now for the base's safety, and as such they were among the final items leaving. Additionally, he had also come to make sure that everything that couldn't be moved, such as the makeshift Comm Center built out of an crashed Imperial-class Star Destroyer, was blown up.

With everything that has happened as of late, Darmas thought things couldn't get worse. And as if on cue, a Rodian Sergeant ran up to him, a concerned look on his green face. "Commander Thane, we've got trouble! Large amount of cruisers just dropped out of hyperspace, all registered as Imperial vessels!" Darmas' eyes started to bulge slightly. Of course, somehow the Imperials must've pried information as to the Coalition's headquarters from the surviving soldiers, and followed them here. This was bad. If the Empire cared enough to bring a 'large' amount of cruisers here, that had to mean they brought a whole karking fleet along.

"On the double, everyone! We've got Imps headed our way!" Darmas yelled out to everyone. Sure, it may startle them with this knowledge, but if the threat of an Imperial attack was anything to be scared of then at least it would motivate them. Turning to the Sergeant, Darmas' face turned cold and serious. "Put a call in to Captain Hasperre, and tell him to bring in the Response Fleet. Without them, this will be tougher than it needs to be." As the Rodian ran off, Darmas continued through the corridors of the Star Destroyer, until he found a Feeorin Private, named Ghent. "Private, we've got trouble. Imperials are on their way here, and we need to keep them in the skies until we can load the transports. Warm up the turbolasers that are left on this bad boy, but don't fire just yet. All the junk here on Raxus Prime makes it hard for sensors to get a good reading, so I don't want to give away out positions with turbolaser fire. Just keep 'em on standby and be ready to fire on my orders."

 

[Maxx]

Ghent stood in a corridor of the old Imperial Star Destroyer. He was there to help direct and move supplies from the ship to the transports waiting outside. Imperials were due to arrive soon and they still had quite a bit to move so as not to show any sign of the Tion Coalition having been here. Whatever couldn't be moved he had workers put detpacks on, so as to destroy it. He was helping a Trandoshan pack up a box with some electrical equipment when Thane walked up. At the sound of his voice he turned around to face the Commander-in-Chief. He wanted him to warm up the turbolasers and put them on standby.

"Will do sir."

Ghent left the Trandoshan and the Commander-in-Chief and sprinted down the corridor. He was heading for the ship's defense mainframe, from there he could control the turbolasers and blast any Imperials out of the sky. He turned a corner and a set of blast doors opened, he walked through into the room with the mainframe. It was empty and dark, everyone was helping with the moving effort going on. He ran up to the mainframe's console and began pressing buttons. The room lit up and the mainframe hummed to life. The targeting console popped up and showed the turbolasers standing by, ready to fire.

 

[AutoFox]

"Captain! Incoming message from central command."
Krayd Hasperre leaned forward in his chair, tenting his hands and nodding to the communications officer.
"Put it through to the bridge. Main holopad."
The circular hologram projector in the center of the bridge hummed to life, producing a large three-dimensional image of a Rodian's torso, clad in the military uniform of the Tion Coalition.
"This is Captain Hasperre of the Daritha fleet. What's the news?"
The image of the Rodian was bluish and hazy, an effect of the relatively low-end holographic equipment the Coalition was forced to employ even in its newest ships. He saluted Krayd.
"The news is good so far, Captain. Most of the transports are already away; we're loading up the last of last of the portable equipment and shelters, and everything else we're setting charges to demolish."
Krayd nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. He hated to leave the Raxus Prime base, but with the capture of a Tionese gunship crew during a botched boarding operation, it was only a matter of time until the Empire came calling. Getting out preemptively was the best option.
"What are we having to leave behind?" Krayd asked.
The Rodian shrugged.
"Not much, captain. Just a few permanent structures and the mounted weapons built into them; I'm gonna miss this old Star Destroyer, but-"
"Hey! D'you have Hasperre on the line?"
Krayd blinked, eyebrows raising.
Even through the poor signal, the second being - a young human male - who shoved his way into the hologram looked quite agitated, hastily saluting the Amaran former pirate.
"Captain! We-"
The rest of the human's sentence was garbled in a burst of interference, his image quickly deteriorating into a swirl of voxels. Krayd leaned forward tensely.
"Raxus Base, say again! Raxus base do you copy!"
The communications officer shook his head, looking up from his station.
"I've lost them sir! Strong interference! It matches communications jamming waves used by the Empire!"
Krayd gripped his seat's arm-rests, silently cursing the gods of a dozen different religions.
"Sensor operator, report!"
The sensor station operator looked up, shaking his own head.
"Long range sensors inoperative, captain! Intense sensor jamming is present in the space around Raxus Prime! Also, intense gravitic waves detected, possibly an interdiction field!"
The hologram finally disappeared, and Krayd sank back in his seat, turning to the communications officer again.
"Gentlemen, it looks like we've been discovered. Contact all ships of the fleet! Tell them to assume combat status and make all possible sublight speed for Raxus Prime! Battle formation!"
He stood, despite his small stature seeming to be the tallest being on the ship.
"All hands! Battle stations! Prime all engines and fighter craft, charge and load all weapon systems!"
"But sir! We have no information on the enemy forces!"
Krayd nodded to the crewman who spoke.
"That's true. But if we don't move in, our people left on the ground will be pounded into slag before we can get a clear picture of what's happening over there. Our best chance is to engage the enemy forces in orbit, and buy enough time for our remaining planetary assets to escape."
The Amaran sat back down, gritting his teeth.
"Our transports are not to get so much as a scratch! Now get us moving!"
He then turned to the tall, silent figure standing to one side of his command chair.
"Commander, prepare your troops to resist or engage in possible boarding operations. If we end up fighting a melee, I think we ought to give them a surprise."
The huge crimson droid saluted stiffly, its gravely vocabulator loud even on the huge multi-level bridge.
"An excellent idea, captain."

 

[Rom]

Vereor smiled widely as the Tailz squadron blurred through the Void, the TIE Reavers responding to the lightest touch. The squadron immediately broke into it's standard formation, a wedge of 4 three-ship teams with clear firing angles on all forward trajectories. All around them the empty Space between the fleet quickly filled with a storm of fighters, thousands of TIEs moving into their pre-assigned patrol and guard routes. A fast force, some four hundred strong, was sent to monitor the edge of the sensor jamming field and report in any movement in the system to indicate the approach of an enemy force, the Requiem following them. It was a risk putting the relatively underarmed, for it's class, battleship further from the fleet but it's powerful sensor suite would be able to detect the incoming ships long before they arrived thanks to the interdiction field preventing a jump to hyperspace to bring anyone closer to the planet. Not to mention, with the several hundred fighters buzzing over it's surface like a swarm of Dagobahian Swamp Hornets, it was safe to assume that the ship could hold it's own against the rabble.

Vereor silently directed his squadron through the chaos, riding close along the knife-point hull of the Sovereign before coming out alongside Grond, the Forward Unto Dawn, and the Imperator. The fleet moved efficiently, forming a cordon around the planet with the three frigates and his squadron flying in a slowly tightening circle in orbit of the Galactic Dump. Vereor flicked his command channel on, a rush of voices filling his ears before being silenced by a single sibilant hiss. "Captain Braun aboard the Imperator... you may fire when ready."

There was a large metallic reading on the portion of the planet they were over, exactly where the tortured Tionese commandos had said they would find it. The burnt out hull of an old Imperial Star Destroyer would make quite the base for any aspiring rebel or terrorist... but Vereor would show them the folly of hiding within a relic of a bygone Empire when the new one comes knocking on your door. The Asiadon missile frigate seemed to shudder in it's position before waves of missiles poured out form it's tubes, raining proton torpedos and concussion missiles on the Tionese base like the toxic showers that rendered the planet nearly uninhabitable. The missiles would pound into the hull, weakened by the toxic atmosphere and age, causing massive structural damage to the base itself. The missiles fire would continue, the thrown up debris and un-ending barrage of missiles disrupting weapons fire and sensor data, leaving anything but line of sight practically worthless for the planetary defends.

It was in this chaos that Vereor thrived; war was an art to the reptilian Sith, and he a master painter. He opened a private comm to the two acolytes and hissed out softly, "When you feel this one brush against your mind, allow entry. Thiz one will educate you on the battle meld of hiz people. We shall hunt az one." As he finished speaking, two tendrils of thought lashed out and brushed against the shields of the Acolytes before melting through it, the bond between hunters connecting them into an efficient unit of one.

The Acolytes would immediately feel the difference, a quiet confidence and power calming their nerves, a thrum of energy making them feel more powerful than they had ever imagined themselves capable of being. The trio of fighters began to move as one, an efficiency and cohesion that made them seem to be one person commanding three ships. 'This is the gift of this one'z people.. and why a Force sensitive Barabel iz never alone on the hunt.' The words were broadcasted telepathically -- there was no need for him to speak to these two who had joined him. In that moment, there was no Darth or Acolyte. No rank or title to create a gulf between the three warriors. They were hunters, and they were one.

Vereor stretched his senses out as far as possible, making nudges here and there to his command staff when he felt their panic or concern. The Fleet was operating well; ready to respond to any thread from land or the Void. The rearward capital ships, namely the Sovereign and it's little cousin the Iron Price, angled to face the location of a smaller defensive fleet, sublighting slowly to their position. The moment they were in range a hail of turbolaser and missile fire would cut across their bows, the well trained gunners aboard the premier attack ships of the Imperial Fleet ensuring that every shot could melt the paint off of the hull. The other ships patrolled alongside their fighters, intercepting transmissions and preventing any warnings to escape the planet. The Aegis prowled over in low orbit, it's turbolasers primed and ready to destroy anything trying to fleet from the Asiadon's hailfire.

And at the very edge of his awareness rested a presence, moving slowly but steadily through the Void towards them, their spirits alight and glinting with war. They would need to be cautious; brave bold men seldom have much to live for, and plenty to die for.

Vereor went to face the planet when his mind was suddenly assaulted, images flashing before his eyes, some bleeding through the link into the acolytes awareness. A flipped coin, a dark cloaked figure with a fang filled grin and an outstretched hand, a dark temple burning in a blood-red desert, and a setting sun. Vereor immediately slammed his shields down around the three joined minds, his breathing heavy and his head pounding. Visions from the Force were not to be taken lightly... and he had recognized the presence of the Hungry One within. 'After the battle... speak to no one of this.' He broadcasted the thought coldly to his wing mates, ensuring to include an image of what would happen to them if they disobeyed. The Warmaster hesitated a moment before discarding the vision; he would have to meditate on it's meaning later.

Wheeling his squadron around, Vereor angled his fighters alongside Grond and the Forward Unto Dawn, ordering a radio silence as the three ships dropped towards the planet; shielded from view by the jammers of the Dawn and the continued assault on the Bases' hull and the mountains of garbage surrounding it by the Imperator's missile salvos. They cut through the air like a knife, the twilight making them even more invisible than they had previously hoped.

The Tion would have no possible way to detect the landfall that was about to begin as they were hammered by the missile and torpedo strikes. The Fleet above waited for the enemy fleet to be spotted, moving slowly from the edge of the system. They would be delayed; and those extra minutes would make or break the siege.

'Stay close, stay alive, and stay under cover... we have a war to win.'

 

[Just Matt Now]

A wave of relief fell over the Acolyte once the orbital bombardment had started. It was a check-point, among many, that would eventually lead to their success. Lives were beginning to fall for those on the base and on the surface of the planet, and with that being the current situation, the war could finally begin. Their preemptive strike coming as much of a surprise to them as their cannons hitting the metal hull of their base. The shock and awe factor filling those who were weak and spineless with fear that they would soon die, and with that the panic and sheer disaster of it all would soon set in. The TIE fighters being dispersed, Tailz Squadron was out to kill, and Acolyte could see their skill in every decision they made. They were professional and they were now airborne.

There wasnt much the Tion Coilition could do at this point. Their defenses were being overwhelmed by the bombardment and the fact that they could not have been fully prepared for this had to take time away. Sure they could send out their fighters as defense, though they were not ready to match the Sith's 400, not yet. And if the bombardment held strong, they would not even have enough ships to counter. Their attack was swift and going just as planned.

Soon enough, Vixur felt a tug on the force, his mind filled with the voice of Darth Vereor. He was skeptical at first, to allow entry to ones mind was essentially giving up your life. The Darth could have easily forced entry, though allowing him such could essentially have put his life in the hands of the Darth. Though Vixur trusted the Darth, he was much more powerful and wise than most he had encountered in the order. What need would he have to kill two Acolytes who would only wish to help him.

This is the gift of this one'z people.. and why a Force sensitive Barabel iz never alone on the hunt.'

Vixur said nothing, he knew that the Darth could already feel what he wanted to say. This was an amazing gift, one that would certainly prove lethal on the combat field. Though soon enough those visions had set in. Coming over the Darths mind and now their connected ones. Vixur could see everything clear as day, though he did not fully understand. His curiosity strengthened once the Darth spoke of this to not be recalled, and the repercussions if it was.

Now they moved through the air, moved sharp and fast. Their fighters making their way down to the surface. Every turn, every change in speed, every minuscule twist was manipulated through all of them. They were flying as one and such movements were precise and exact.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

As he was rushing throught the base, the whole blasted Star Destroyer shook, as if an earthquake had occured, throwing Darmas to the floor and causing some wall panels to shake out of its holes and fall to the floor. Shaking his head, Darmas got back to his feet steadily, before the Star Destroyer shook once more, nearly throwing the Tionese Commander-in-Chief to the floor but he held his ground. Activating his comlink, he cued it to one of his lieutenants to see what was going on.

"Lieutenant, what the hell's going on? Another ground-quake?" Darmas asked, one hand on the wall to keep himself steady. "Negative, Commander. It seems the Sith are bombarding the SD with missiles. The hull's keeping steady for the moment, but it won't take long for those missiles to punch through the durasteel." Grumbling, Darmas reconnected his comm-line to Private Ghent. "Private Ghent, this is Thane. The Imps know where we are and are trying to bombard us. You see any missiles, I want you to shoot it out of the sky before it can get to us."

Continuing on through the corridor, he came upon a human female, ranked Sergeant, who if he remembered was a part of the loading crew. "Sergeant, status on our transports?" The woman scratched her head before answering. "We're pretty much finished, but are other guys are still strapping detpacks to the rest of the stuff. Should be done any minute now." Nodding, Darmas gestured for her to continue about his business as he continued on through, checking up on other things, and wondering where the hell the Daritha Fleet was.

 

[Maxx]

"Private Ghent, this is Thane. The Imps know where we are and are trying to bombard us. You see any missiles, I want you to shoot it out of the sky before it can get to us." A smile came over Ghent's lips. "Will do sir, lets show these Imperials just who they're messin with." Ghent pressed a button and the turbolasers on the old Star Destroyer's hull moved to point skyward. The terminal flashed that it had a lock and Ghent pressed another button. He felt the massive gun fire above his head. It felt good. He pressed the firing button again and again, each time the terminal quickly showed it had another lock. "Yeah, I'll show them just what we're made of."

 

[AutoFox]

[This, I have decided, will be Krayd's theme music.]

Krayd waited anxiously for the fleet to exit hyperspace, having initiated a short jump just moments before. They were arranged before him in the blue swirl, and for a moment, great pride eclipsed his uncertainty and apprehension.
Before him stretched a small but tough fleet, perhaps not a match for what the Imperials had likely brought, but it would do for a delaying action. The former pirate hated the idea of retreating before the Sith a second time in his career, but if the Coalition was to survive, it was the only option.
Krayd commanded the Daritha fleet, a brand new detachment of the Tion Navy he had personally organized to defend the Coalition's main bases.
It included Krayd's flagship, the Xer, a heavy cruiser which had started life as the future flagship of Krayd's old pirate fleet, and more recently had been towed to Raxus Prime for completion and christening.
The Xer was the first of her class, and so far the only one to be completed, though other hulls would soon be laid down. She represented the pride of the new Tion Indigenous Fleet Program, a massive shipbuilding initiative Krayd had organized to give the Coalition a modern, formidable navy, and independence from the handouts of the Galactic Alliance, which were at risk of drying up in the near future as the Empire's front advanced toward Coruscant.
Besides Xer, no other capital ships from the program were yet available, though thankfully all data and materiel concerning their development had already been evacuated. Even the dry-dock, from which the Xer had rather dramatically risen from just a few weeks earlier, had been thoroughly stripped of useful equipment and then set with enough demolition charges to blow up a small space station.
The Xer, however, did carry a few smaller vessels developed by the TIFP. The first dozen pre-production Fox-class starfighters were being primed for combat in the Xer's dorsal hangar, as were two prototype Victory-class bombers, with their fearsome payloads nestled in their bomb bays.
The Xer's escort was somewhat less impressive, about 20 light warships and converted freighters the Coalition had scraped together for littoral defense. They were intended to be the last Coalition ships to leave the system, defending against just such an eventuality as now befell them. The formation included 8 Type 9K and 9R picket ships, 4 of each, as well as a squadron of Preybird-class fighters.
Most other commanders might have turned and fled at the thought of facing an Imperial task force with what could only be an inferior fleet, but Krayd kept his apprehension under control. He had faced superior numbers with only ragtag bands of pirates as allies, and had prevailed in most cases. Even if he was not destined to win the coming engagement, he vowed he would draw as much blood as he possibly could before withdrawing.
Someday, we'll use those ships to do to them what they're doing to us. The Amaran thought to himself.
"Interdiction field ahead! Contact in 15 seconds!"
"All hands confirm battle stations! Brace for hyperspace reversion!"
"All weapons hot! Hyperspace reversion in 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7-"
Several tense seconds later, the swirling tunnel of hyperspace gave way to the inky, star-studded blackness of realspace, with the bright, rusty curvature of Raxus Prime filling a portion of the view-port.
That was not all the view revealed, however.
"Sir! Large numbers of enemy contacts! Short-range sensors indicate Imperial starfighters in patrol formations! Long range sensors still inoperative due to heavy jamming!"
Krayd leaned forward in his seat, teeth gritted. He could see the glint of the starfighters as they whirled in densely packed formations ahead.
His lips curled into a predatory grin. For all the cunning his opponent may have, his underlings were still operating very much by the book. Before they got wise, Krayd would push his brief advantage.
"All ships! Fly straight at those formations, break through! Fire assault concussion missiles for proximity detonation, full spread!"
"Aye sir! Missile ships, engage enemy starfighter groups at will!"
From the Xer and its escorting Type 9R Missile Boats, a withering salvo of heavy, unguided concussion missiles dashed forth and plunged into the midst of the enemy starfighters. The weak-hulled TIEs were shredded by enormous explosions from warheads designed to demolish capital ships, punching enormous holes in their formations and dramatically thinning out their numbers at a stroke.
"Move in! Launch our fighters and do not stop for anything! Prepare for anti-starfighter engagements, there are still a lot of enemy bandits out here!"
Krayd turned to his comm officer.
"Any luck with that interference? I need enemy capital ship strength!"
The comm operator shook her head, looking frustrated.
"Multiple Star Destroyer class targets confirmed, as well as larger and smaller ships! Enemy jamming makes exact numbers and classes impossible to determine at this time!"
The Amaran nodded. He was angry, but unconcerned; his ships could fight this kind of battle, but even so, the lack of information bothered him.
"See if you can't at least determine the sources of this jamming, as well as the interdiction field. Our priority must be to clear the egress routes for our allies on the surface."

 

[Rom]

There is no sound in the Void. Space battles could often conjure up the sounds in the mind of the pilots and crewman involved; explosions that burst like nova's in the distance and faded into motes of dust seemed to boom, fighters maneuvering around command pylons and turbolaser emplacements seemed to scream as they knifed through space like tiny daggers. But in the end, outside of the viewport, there was nothing to hear but the murmurings of ghosts.

Within the command tower of the Sovereign's Fist however, a din filled the air as orders and status of the fleet was called out and replied with yet more cries and updates; Admiral Stark had hand-picked each of the men and women serving on his Bridge, and they all knew that silently facing their terminals was the fastest way to earn the ire of the Corellian. A loud bridge was one that showed familiarity and trust. However, when the first group of fighters on the edge of the sensor field called in hyperspace contacts, the noise fell to nothing more than a whisper as the Admiral turned to face the holo-panel showing the captains of each vessel within the 3rd Fleet. The Corellian had hard eyes, but when he faced his men and his orders were conveyed out across the fleet, there was a warmness to him that most besides his comrades would not expect.

"Until Warmaster Vereor's return, we are too continue as planned. The enemy expects us to be the usual; rigid, by the book Imperials with no imagination or cunning... they clearly didn't pay attention the last time they met the Demon in battle. Nor have they ever dealt with the 3rd Fleet. Each and every one of you is charged with the destruction or capture of the enemy fleet; aim to detain, but if it comes at the cost of those beneath you, crush them. Those are the orders of the Warmaster, and they will be enforced. Men... to your stations."

The Bridges of the 3rd Fleet began to echo with called orders as Stark turned to face the viewport just in time to see the glowing contrails of missiles glowing in the black. "Requiem... give them a volley." The Miasma class Battle Cruiser moved up alongside it's TIEs, showing up only for a moment on the edge of the sensor bubble before it's gunners fired, slamming precision shots from the point defense turbolasers into the oncoming wave of concussion missiles. Several would still get through, and four pairs of TIES vanished in silent explosion but the rest were shot out of the starlit expanse. And then the sensor bubble dropped, revealing the full size of the fleet; three massive star destroyers, a battleship, a pair of frigates, a pair of corvettes and another singular corvette hanging above the planet. They were all spaced out, giving the maximum firing range to allow the fleet to drive their enemies into a crossfire that would rain hellfire upon them, and in their midst roved more than six hundred TIE Fighters of all varieties.

In a wordless surge, the TIE fighters moved forward, a cloud of durasteel and laser fire as they burned through the Void, swarming the freighters and raking laser fire across their hulls and firing missiles into their engines, seeking to cripple them while the bombers and interceptors swarmed the Xer-class, firing missiles at the capital ship and dropping mines in the path of the fleet. The Asiadon continued to fire it's missiles down towards the planetary surface and the base below, hammering the star destroyer with concussion missiles in response to the volley from their defenders. Curiously, the area their base was in was visible on the sensors only for a moment before another sensor jamming bubble rose up in it's path, leaving the defenders blind and dumb. The battle above Raxus Prime had begun.

~~~~~~~

Vereor swung his wing down through the noxious atmosphere of Raxus Prime, hovering close to the hull of the Forward Unto Dawn as they moved on the edge of the burning contrail that heralded the missile bombardment that, alongside the Dawn's jammers, kept them hidden from observation. Ahead of them the Grond seemed to be picking up speed as it dropped it's angle, the controllers aboard the Dawn deftly moving it into the midst of the cone patterned barrage, cutting through the sky like a burning spear with it's nose fixed on the base below. Sensor jamming quickly spread to engulf the sensors of the Star Destroyer that lay crippled below them, Vereor idly noting it's designation "ISD Castamere", causing the turbolasers to fall silent, swinging around without being able to get a sure lock on any of the incoming projectiles. The Barabel did not enjoy these tactics, preferring to take the fight directly to an enemy, but the Dark Lord's orders had been clear. "No rebel left the system alive or unchained."

"This iz the way their Rebellion endz.... not with a whimper, but a bang."

With those words the Forward Unto Dawn and her fighter escort veer off, climbing quickly for space as Grond shudders at it's velocity and entry angle, fire streaming off the hull as the Hellburner knifed through the sky in the wake of the final missile salvo. The concussion missiles, dubbed Capital Killers, would burst against the hull of the Castamere, shredding the durasteel and damaging the top levels.High above in low orbit the Hunter's Pride prowled in wait with its turbolasers primed to shoot down any transports that tried to flee. And as the Dawn climbed away, it's escort sliding safely into it's hanger to ride out the coming storm, it's sensor bubble went with it, revealing the Grond to the damaged sensors of the rebel base with only moments to spare. The thick hull and reinforced shielding could withstand turbolaser salvos, it's droid crew locking it's trajectory into place. There was no stopping this ram.

Grond stabbed into the hull of the Castamere with a great rending sound, the hull buckling and snapping under the impact as the Tempest-class buried itself from bow to stern within the husk of the Star Destroyer. The shock of impact alone was sure to set off chain reactions within the star destroyer, Tibanna Gas igniting and sending explosions up around the hull and causing chaos within for the survivors. A mere three minutes after impact, the Dawn reached orbit at full burn and expelled the Warmaster and his wingmates, who turned to face the planet. The signal was sent, beamed from his fighter into one of the many secondary systems within Grond, and a moment later it's contents ignited; a thousand reactor-grade power cells received their signals and a moment later the sky turned white... and where the Castamere lay, only a smoking crater that went deep down into the dark of Raxus Prime remained, the land around it for miles rent and burned to ash, it's towering garbage mountains turned to slag. Nothing remained but the toxic rain that fell from the clouds above.

When the signal jammer had fell away, the Sovereign immediately cancelled it's communication jamming and beamed the Dawn's cameras towards the coming destruction. The defending fleet above would see and hear the frenzied moments before the Grond impacted, and the explosion that came after, followed by a terse message demanding their immediate surrender.

 

[Vencu]

Prowler, Skira-class Star Destroyer, Edge of the Raxus System​

"We have confirmation, Commander. That broadcast was the signal."

"And Arbiter just dropped from our sensor grid, sir. She's cloaked and making the jump."

"Very well. Ensign, you may begin the countdown. Have all twelve Haranov reposition themselves at the front of the formation. Keep them tight, but give them room to peel off after they have completed their fire missions. Visual and sensor screen payload, non-lethal. The Admiral wants them surrounded by a cloud of gas and chaff. They need to be blind."

Arbiter, Skira-class Star Destroyer, Somewhere Near Raxus Prime​

The two thousand six hundred meter Star Destroyer had been drifting forward on momentum since its reversion to realspace, leaving no trace emissions to signal its arrival. A rare stygium cloaking device rendered it completely invisible, not just to the naked eye, but to the most advanced of sensors. With a device such as that, its star-flecked, matte black, reflec coated hull was little more than a redundancy.

On the command bridge, the crew were silent. It was that same eerie calm they always felt before battle. That same calm that a predator felt before leaping at its prey, fangs bared, claws extended. Only a few minutes had passed, but drifting as they were, moving into engagement range, it felt like an eternity.

Fleet Admiral Jorin Reshil Alayis stood at the forward viewport, gazing out at the Coalition fleet. He was wearing the same armor that he had issued to his commandos rather than a uniform, something his crew had grown accustomed to over the years. As his eyes swept back and forth, studying the enemy formation and the unfamiliar starships within it, the agent that the Ubiqtorate had sent to provide assistance during the operation stepped up beside him. Jorin turned to the man, but not before motioning toward the enemy fleet.

"I've grown accustomed to the Ubiqtorate supplying me with intelligence on new starship designs, their origins, and their weaknesses. Schematics would have been very helpful."

"These are fairly recent developments, Admiral."

"So it would seem. Well, the time has come. You may use the Force to signal Darth Vereor. Let him know that our fleet will be arriving shortly and that I will contact him personally when the enemy flagship is secured."

As the agent nodded and closed his eyes to concentrate, the voice of the ship's captain carried across the bridge.

"Admiral, the fleet just reverted to realspace. First volley is away. Detonation in thirty-two seconds."

"Excellent. Prepare to disengage the cloaking device and launch assault pods. The flagship is our primary target, all others are secondary."

 

[Just Matt Now]

Vixur had stuck with the Darth as if they were one in the same. His fighter taking on any other enemy fighter that managed to be fortunate enough to slip their initial attack, which wasnt many at all. Vereor's command had paid off, and now with the help from the Arbiter and Prowler. The Headhunter a vicious sight for all, as well ad Vereors fighter, the menacing sight commanding the ships above where and when to attack with it's full amount of armaments.

The Sith fleet pressed their attack, encroaching even closer to the enemy fleet. The attacks had been aimed towards the Xer. Ion cannons tormented it's hull from the Sith fleet as well as detonations from their new allies that have surprisingly entered the field. They were definitely a force to be reckoned with, though now they were nearly unstoppable. The volleys persisted, and wouldnt stop until the Xer was inoperable.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

"Commander Thane, I think you might want to take a look at this!" A female Sergeant stated, waving over Darmas to a terminal. Raising an eyebrow, Darmas approached, and was mortified by what he saw. An Imperial Tempest-class Frigate heading straight for the Castamere. Undoubtedly, they were moving in to finish the job the Conc missiles started.

"What do we do sir?" She asked again, a look of pleading on her face. Darmas sighed. "Gather the men, call everyone to the hangar." He stated flatly as he moved away from the terminal, heading to the hangar. As he entered the large bay and took a seat on some crates, Darmas made sure his comlink was active and linked it to the HyperComm Booster they had set up on the Castamere, encrypting his transmission and broadcasting it on all Tion Coalition channels.

Within a minute, everyone on the Castamere, what twenty or so of them there were, took a seat or stood around Darmas. The Commander-in-Chief cleared his throat before speaking. "Men, women, as your Commander-in-Chief, I want to thank you all for serving alongside me and supporting me in this rebellion. Though we die today, I want you to knbw you fought hard and fought bravely, and hit the Empire hard enough to make them send an entire fleet to deal with us.

"But all light-heartedness aside, there is no escaping our fate now. This year will live on in infamy in the Tion Cluster. In the grand scheme of this war at the moment, this battle will be nothing compared to the fight at Coruscant. But to us and our people, this will be a pivotal moment in our history. Today, we lose our headquarters, we lose our leader, and many will lose their spirits. To those listening, do not be one of those many. Don't let our sacrifice be in vain, let it be a motivating factor for you to continue what we have started.

"Never give up, never surrender. May the Force be with you, men." Darmas put his hands out towards the two closest Tion Coalition soldiers on either side, and motioned for everyone to do the same. They all grabbed one another's hands and all tears soaked away. They had fought together, they had bled together, and now they would all die together. Looking to his right, Darmas was holding hands with the female Human Sergeant from before, and on his left, he was clasping the hand of the Rodian Comm Officer. Closing their eyes, they all accepted their fate as the sound of the Grond's impact was heard, and as the explosions went off, and as everything went quiet and black.

 

[Maxx]

As the battle raged on, the turbolasers continued to fire thanks to Ghent. While he couldn't shoot all of them, he could at least take out a few and hope their explosions either destroyed other ones or pushed them off course. Ghent noticed something off as he looked at the display. It was as if the screen was being eaten away, static appearing where there had once been missiles waiting to be shot down. Only one thing could have been causing it, jammers. The Imps were beginning to jam ground sensors. The static quickly engulfed the entire screen and Ghent stopped firing, he couldn't risk blindly shooting in case he hit a transport....if there were any. "Damn those Imps."

Ghent was beginning to turn away from the terminal when a voice came over the ship's intercoms and what was said could be heard all over the ship. "Commander Thane wants everyone to join in the hangar." "What is going on now? Ghent left the room and headed down to the hangars. Entering, he saw twenty or so men standing in a circle and Darmas was there speaking. "Men, women, as your Commander-in-Chief, I want to thank you all for serving alongside me and supporting me in this rebellion. Though we die today, I want you to knbw you fought hard and fought bravely, and hit the Empire hard enough to make them send an entire fleet to deal with us.

"But all light-heartedness aside, there is no escaping our fate now. This year will live on in infamy in the Tion Cluster. In the grand scheme of this war at the moment, this battle will be nothing compared to the fight at Coruscant. But to us and our people, this will be a pivotal moment in our history. Today, we lose our headquarters, we lose our leader, and many will lose their spirits. To those listening, do not be one of those many. Don't let our sacrifice be in vain, let it be a motivating factor for you to continue what we have started.

"Never give up, never surrender. May the Force be with you, men."

Ghent had taken a seat across from Darmas as he had spoken. So this is how it goes. Thane motioned for everyone to hold hands. Ghent stared into the eyes of his commander, the one he had fought for in the name of Freedom. At least it wouldn't be in vain. "Godspeed everyone." And then everything went black.

 

[AutoFox]

Krayd braced in his command chair, the ship rumbling around him as turbolaser fire and concussion missiles splashed against its shields. The Xer could take a phenomenal amount of punishment, but Krayd knew he was outclassed against so many large enemy warships and starfighters.
If we survive this, I'll have to make some changes in the way we handle the Imperial fleet.
"Gunnery! Engage autoblasters! Keep those fighters off us!"
"On it sir! CIWS tracking targets!"
Visible through the transparisteel canopy which enclosed the bridge, the rows of dual autoblaster turrets on the forward deck came to life. Streams of jagged, green blaster fire swept across the blackness of space, scything through formations of fighters as they made their low attack passes. Burning craft tumbled away, the light from explosions washing across the Xer.
Not far away, one of the harried picket ships, a missile boat, opened fire with its concussion missile pods. Clouds of guided projectiles erupted from the smaller ship, temporarily clearing the space around it as dozens of fighters were engulfed.
It would take a moment for the missiles to reload, however, leaving the ships - which only carried a token laser armament - exposed to retaliation.
Krayd wasn't having it.
"Split off the Preybird squadron! I want them to support our smaller craft, don't let the TIEs get in close while they're reloading!"
"Sir! Long range sensor contact aft! It's indistinct, but it's big! Star Destroyer class!"
The Amaran turned to his gunnery officer.
"Are we in range to fire our main guns?"
"Aye sir!"
"Then let 'em have it!"
"Aye sir! All batteries, fire at will! Target; enemy fleet and new enemy contact! Staggered ion and turbolaser fire!"
"Sir! Sensor jamming waves have thinned out!"

Krayd was about to question the sensor operator, when suddenly, on the surface of Raxus Prime, something caught his eye.
It was like a second sun, blazing white hot against the rusty disc of the planet below. The Amaran looked on in horror as the light faded, revealing an enormous wound in the cloud layer, and burning desolation on the ground.
His hands trembled as he gripped his seat's armrests.
"Sensor operator, where was the epicenter of that explosion."
"Sir... it..."
"Sir! Incoming transmission from the enemy fleet! It says... they're ordering us to surrender!"
Krayd's expression remained stony, and for a moment, the bridge was silent.
"Sensor operator, do you detect any of our transports."
The operator turned back to his equipment, and shook her head.
"No... sir."
Krayd nodded.
"Put me through to the enemy fleet. Holographic transmission."
The comm officer did so, and Krayd stood. With a flourish, he drew his blastsword, raising it and swiping it to the side in a duelist's salute.
"Attention Imperial fleet. I do not fear you."
He motioned to cut the transmission, and sat back down.
"I take it the interdiction field is still up."
"Aye sir!"
Krayd nodded.
"That is intolerable. Helm! Move us ahead, combat speed one."
"Aye sir! Moving us ahead, combat speed one!"
"Sir! Multiple missile strikes off our bow!"
"Brace for shock waves!"
But the shock waves never came.
"Sir! Sensor-blinding chaff dispersed by enemy missiles! Gas charges also detected! Our visibility in all directions is dropping!"
Krayd furrowed his brow.
"Helm, belay that; back us down from combat speed. All ahead slow. Maneuver us within the chaff cloud, keep us with our fleet."
"Aye sir!"
"Condottiere."
The droid standing beside Krayd saluted.
"Aye sir."
The former pirate smirked.
"Now is the time."
The droid saluted, turning to leave. Krayd flicked on the intercom.
"All hands! Now hear this! The enemy has enshrouded us in an anti-sensor cloud: more than likely, they are planning something for us. All hands, prepare to repel boarders!"
Klaxons began to sound throughout the ship. The Amaran turned to the communications officer.
"Do we have comm with the rest of the fleet?"
"Limited, sir! But I can get a message through."
He sat forward, glaring at rapidly spreading gray smoke which enshrouded his vessel.
"Tell them to hang on. Once we deal with our uninvited guests, we'll be employing a little surprise for the Imperial fleet."

 

[Rom]

An expanding cloud of chaff and gas quickly covered the enemy fleet, leaving them blind to their movements and strategems; but at least the same could be said for their visibility. Wheeling his starfighter around with Tailz forming up behind him, the Warmaster glared out of his viewport at the Tionese force. The surge in the Force that had came when the Grond detonated below had sang with the deaths of brave men, and by all estimations with the communication they intercepted, the leader of this rebellion had met his end on Raxus Prime, like so many up-jumped leaders of the Tion Cluster in the past. This "Lord of Castamere" in the end met his end as they all did; the barabel just wished it had been at the end of his sword rather than the blast of a capital-ship shaped bomb.

"Admiral... alwayz nice to see Ubiqtorate out in force. Thiz one waz almost worried that you had gotten lost on the way to the battle." The Sith smirked behind his faceless helmet; the arrival of the infamous Ubiqtorate military force was a boon that he certainly planned on taking advantage of. "Perhapz thiz one shall leave your men to show their quality while we tighten the defensive net around the enemy fleet?"

Opening a secure comm between himself and the two flagships present in system, the Sovereign's Fist and the Arbiter. "Admiral Stark, expand out medium distance from the cloud and ring our forcez around the enemy and prime ion batteriez and turbolaserz to fire. Thiz one wantz full fire coverage on anything that comes out of that mazz. Order our sensor jammerz be brought down; we're already double blind with that chaff cloud, there'z no point in having a redundant jammer in place.... but keep the interdictor fields active and prevent them from making the jump to lightspeed."

 

[Vencu]

Arbiter, Skira-class Star Destroyer, Near Coalition Fleet​

"They are fully enveloped by the cloud, Admiral. Gunnery reports lock-on failures across the board. No enemy contacts on sensors."

"Excellent, disengage cloak and deploy assault pods. Captain Valen, once the pods are clear, launch our QIE squadrons with orders to intercept and destroy anything leaving that cloud. Keep them between us and the enemy-- Lieutenant Torama, contact the rest of the fleet. Have the Prowler and her escorts move up the center until they are within engagement range. Fury, Gauntlet, and Eclipse will advance with their own elements, positioning themselves parallel to Arbiter, on the opposite side of the enemy fleet. Marauder and Immortal will fall in behind us. Before they move into position, they are to launch strike craft. Nothing so much as peeks from that cloud without sustaining heavy damage, understood?"

Even as Jorin said it, he was using one of the large tactical displays on the bridge to plot each movement, ensuring his orders were understood and that he missed nothing himself.

"Yes, Admiral."

"Understood, Admiral."

Aurek-Aurek-Five-Seven-Seven, Chekar-class Assault Pod, En Route to Enemy Flagship​

It was cold. No, freezing. NC-1138 could feel the chill, even through his environmental suit and armor. His assault pod, just like all the others, lacked even the most basic life support system. Like his brothers, he relied on a disposable oxygen canister, the temperature regulator in his suit, and the stims Doc had given them all beforehand just to survive the trip.

This was his eighty-ninth boarding action and he still hadn't gotten used to the cold or the quiet or the vibration of the ion engines propelling him and nineteen of his comrades in arms through the void, toward the enemy. It was unsettling, even for a hardened commando. They were powerless. All it took was one direct hit from a turbolaser and they were gone-- but when the vibration abruptly stopped, just like it had a moment ago, and the pod felt like it might float away or go into an uncontrolled spin, that was when he knew they had made it. The pod had slipped through the shielding and fired its harpoons, reeling itself closer to its target.

When the red light came on inside the pod, he knew the lasers were drilling into the hull. When the green light came on, he knew the breach had been successful and he was already detaching himself from the harness that held him in place and leaping out of the circular hole into a brightly lit corridor. His Taskmaster Carbine was shouldered, spitting fire. He didn't even realize he had already dropped two hostiles. When he spotted two more, he didn't even register that it was his voice calling them out. His training had taken over. His brothers had fanned out, kicking weapons away from the fallen, finishing off the ones that were still alive without hesitation or remorse, and securing the section of the corridor from one end to the other. His world slowly came back into focus. He was Navy Commando One-One-Three-Eight, a lieutenant, a platoon leader. Their platoon leader. The engineering section was their objective.

"Boss, we bagged six hostiles. They look to be mechanics, so we're probably on a maintenance level. No casualties on our end-- oh, and it looks like one of the mechanics managed to jam the blast door controls on both ends of the corridor, so we're stuck."

"Understood, Sergeant. Four-Seven, anything on the scanner?"

"Penetrating radar is picking up a main corridor parallel to this one. Looks like there's a turbolift at the furthest end."

"Three-Nine, Four-Zero. I want a breach here and here. Make 'em big."

"Four-Zero, moving."

"Three-Nine, copy. Setting charges."

"First and second squads, stack up and prepare to breach. Remember, violence of action, boys."

 

[AutoFox]

((I hope you don't mind me controlling on of the boarding teams for just a moment. Just needed a bit of banter.))

Surprisingly enough, there were relatively few actual crew in the part of the ship where NC-1138 and most of the other troops had landed their pods. The corridors were strangely empty, save for the multitude of droids going about their business. Most of those the boarders encountered became targets themselves, but a handful managed to broadcast their distress signals over the ship's internal comm system, raising a silent alarm...

"Sir, we've lost several crew vital sign returns in the ship's midsection, above the cargo holds. The instances appear to be working their way through the ship, in the general direction of engineering. Also, a number of maintenance droids have failed to check in."
Krayd Hasperre nodded; those facts could only mean one thing. He had been expecting something like this, and was adequately prepared; his ship was designed to perform boarding actions, as well as to resist them.
"Bring up the internal scanners."
The large bridge holoprojector displayed a transparent three-dimensional image of the ship, showing the locations of organic crewers in green dots, and droids in blue. Around the midsection of the ship were several clusters of red dots, signifying deceased crewers, and more orange dots, signifying deactivated droids. Every so often, a new red or an orange dot would flare on the display.
The large crimson battle droid which had been standing next to Krayd throughout the battle had left. The Amaran clicked on his armrest comlink, contacting him.
"Condottiere, hostile boarders have entered the ship. I am sending you and your troops an uplink to the internal crew sensors; track them by where they've been. They are not to reach the engineering section."
There was an electronic reply.
"I am not programmed for failure, sir."

As the Imperial boarding teams began to fan out through the ship, in the cargo holds directly below them, dozens and dozens of pairs of electronic eyes began to flick on in the darkness. Floodlights blazed, and the low whine of heavy servos began to sound as the Xer's cargo of powerful defenders began to stir.
Shortly, teams of three to six began to form up and move out, their heavy footsteps echoing through the corridors, and their sensitive ocular lenses sweeping back and forth. They had been tasked with defending the Xer, and truly, there were few better qualified to do so.
Their pedigree was outstanding. Crafted from ancient blueprints, others of their kind had served the ancient conqueror Xim the Despot, and had proven some of the most formidable warriors ever put to field. They had conquered the Tion Cluster and many worlds beyond in their heyday, and age had done nothing to dull their edge; during the Yuuzhan Vong War a handful of preserved examples in service to the Hutts - thought to be nothing more than museum pieces after over 25,000 years - had slain hundreds of thousands of warriors sent to invade the worlds they defended.
The examples the Tion Coalition had built were easily as powerful. Sheathed in heavy duranium armor, at least a match for even the boarder's relatively heavy firepower, they were stronger and - crucially - smarter than their predecessors, their formidable standard weapons giving them a lethal punch, and their modernized droid brains allowing them to easily navigate their almost three meter bulk through the confines of a starship, as well as to form effective battle tactics.
Today, they faced an enemy nearly as powerful as themselves, but they would persevere. Adamant warriors cut from another time, against the Emperor's finest.
They had been built for this.



((Yes, you've run into the Guardian Corps. I've been foreshadowing this for awhile.))