Open Invasion Damage, Inc: Invasion of Byblos

[Vera Coulter]

She growled in frustration as the Shrike smoothly weaved past the three torpedoes, successfully striking down the Jedi ship that had first come to her aid. She would ping over to the Byblos Defense to let them know of the ejected pilot for a rescue, and, salvage the ship later once the firefight would cool. She scowled in focus as more of her hits landed; though there was a taste of bitter success, it wouldn't last long as the Shrike soon outpaced her. One last volley of the turrets was given, but the likelihood of their hitting was a very slim chance.

She had bigger concerns with the Sokar assaulting the Gladiator and the Little Wing being targeted by a lone Sith corvette. That simply wouldn't do. With the remaining Sith fleet backing away, their priorities had to change as well.

"Blue Leader, One, Three, Four and Seven, engage with that Corvette. Target those engines with ions and assault from below. Nine and ten, pick around that ship assaulting the Gladiator. Keep their guns busy elsewhere. Astral Mantle, how're you holding up?"

There was no point in looking for Sith survivors escaping the Gladiator; at Darmus' words, she let out a bitter smile. That was good enough for her.

But she wouldn't have time to burn further than that; civilian lives were at risk. And though they were Jedi, they were still civilians of some holdout of Free World or Republic space. The starbombers tasked to keep the Sokar occupied would dip down and assault from beneath, aiming ion cannons and torpedos before breaking off and parting to prepare for a second assault, should it choose to not retreat as well with the remaining Sith fleet. Meanwhile, Jaws would turn to assault a new prey, the corvette assaulting the Little Wing itself, still maintaining a wary eye out in case any other Sith ships would get a wise idea of assaulting her flank or rear.

Once she would be within range, she would release an ion burst at its' rear engines, and then a flurry of heavy cannon fire before breaking off and banking left, intent on another sweeping assault to discourage any further assault while the BDF starbombers would strike with ion and heavy assault of their own to the left and right flank.

The Gladiator, meanwhile, had turned its' attention to the Sokar, and if it proved to continue assault in its' direction, would not hesitate to burn down the Raider-class corvette if it brought its' assault any closer. It was not within immediate striking range, but it would not hesitate should the Sokar prove it would not retreat from its' assault, instead priming heavy turbolaser turrets and torpedos on standby.

@Mr. Teatime @Eccles @Morse @Darasuum @Fantasy Liver

 

[Isen Ramm]

The chastising tone of the "Enough" from Master Voran was enough to close Isen's mouth. Even though he didn't feel what he said was out of bounds, he respected the hierarchy of the Order, and did what he was told. He chose, however, to elect that meaning to be directed toward his words and not the lightsaber trained at the back of the Sith neck. She was, after all, a Sith. Tricky little devils they, and Isen was not of the mind to take chances.

And that's why he quickly became quite fond of Master Forge who apparently was of the same mind. She "borrowed" a blaster and shot their most welcomed guest with two stun blasts, putting her to sleep. The young Jedi Knight took that opportunity to relax his posture, letting the cyan blade return back to the hilt, and clipping the lightsaber back on his belt.

He was instructed not to speak, or at least not to antagonize the Sith-turned-prisoner, so Isen would do what Isen does. He stood up tall and prepared himself to help escort the prisoner to her new home.

 

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn wheezed as the g-forces pressing down on him turned the safety harness on his chest into lead weights squeezing his breath out of his lungs. He had to accelerate hard into a wide turn to keep up with the TIE he’d been pursuing in the Starwing. The Force took the edge off of the forces on his body but still he gritted his teeth in pain. He just had one moment before they would get away; one second where he could get his axis on line with the fighter.

Vahn squeezed on the trigger of his flight stick, and the TIE erupted into a miniature nova splashed against the stars.


“Vigil-3; they’re in full retreat but the Little Wing is in trouble; she’s trying to take cover behind the Gladiator but a Sith corvette broke formation and is bearing down on her.” Flight-command reported into his earpiece. He cursed.

Vahn’s eyes set on the Arquitens; smoking and burning from a dozen places. He could do it; he could take down this ship. Just one more good combined attack run should leave her drifting in space and incapable of getting an angle for a safe hyperspace jump.

Kriff. The mission, or the lives of good people? He’d made this choice before. He’d had to choose between Master Tionson, and saving people at Denon. His hand tightened on his flight stick with a creak of leather.

“Any fighters not currently engage converge on my location. We’re taking out that corvette.” Vahn decided, before switching his comms to the Little Wing itself.

“Little Wing, continue advancing into safe territory, we’re coming to support you.”

A handful of fighters converged behind him; a motley assortment of designs and armaments but it would have to do. Vahn’s small wing of fighters turned from the Arquitens, cutting a sharp angle towards the corvette as it burned hard in pursuit of the Little Wing.

The seconds ticked by, with the new corvette getting ever closer towards the wounded Little Wing. He pulled in behind Vera’s Blackfin, and dropped his thrust long enough to angle in for a solid attack on the corvette’s engines. Moments after the Blackfin’s run, a spread of torpedoes and a cannonade of medium laser cannon fire lit up the Sith Corvette’s engines as Vahn and his flight made their own run before breaking hard away and burning hard before any stray sith fighters could try and pick them off.

Vahn kept his head on a swivel, eventually catching sight of a lone Starwing pursued by a pair of TIEs. He keyed in to that pilot’s comms.

“Starwing pilot, you’ve got TIEs on your tail, you need to go Guns D,” Vahn checked his onboard computer. “Go to Delta G-32, we’ll cover you the-” Vahn’s words locked in his throat. Even before he finished his sentence the pilot was juking; expertly. For a moment Vahn thought he was just another highly skilled pilot; but there was something different. Something highly unusual about the pilot’s movements. He was holding his course steady, and then only jinking a split second before one of the two TIEs tailing him fired.

Vahn was impressed, a sense that grew into momentary awe when the Starwing pilot half-rolled into a tight Wingover that inverted his direction. The two TIEs erupted into balls of heat and pressure as crimson bolts pierced through their canopies.

“Flight command, get me the name of that pilot.”

@Wit

 

[Drow Venn]

Drow's love for the ancient Y-Wing did not cease even as she was pelted with fire and none of her controls were functioning. The old bird had done her best, even as Drow pushed her to the absolute limit with his evasive techniques. Even if his ship and he had exploded, Drow felt that his Y-Wing had made an adequate showing - even managing to squeeze off his payload and help cripple the Arquitens. That crater he left on the ship looked particularly satisfying...

Yes, he would have been satisfied dying doing one last bombing run to help save people instead of hurt them but the Force had other plans. His ship having only been disabled by ion cannons and not blown up meant that he'd been been able to easily eject himself and his droid, Sparky. Vera's call for someone to pick him up led a shuttle to his location. The crew inside hauled him and Sparky inside and Drow expressed his gratitude. From the looks of things, the battle was functionally over so he directed the shuttle pilot to spots some of the E-Wings had been shot down over, hoping to recover ejected pilots. Having recently helped blow the Sith base at Sullust up and having now repelled a Sith invasion, Drow's feelings of elation towards the Jedi Order's recent victories were only eclipsed by the thought that his faithful Y-Wing would one day fly again. The repairs needed were beyond his capabilities but he was fairly certain he'd be able to convince the Byblos Defense Fleet to spring for a mechanic...

 

[Alexandria Voran]

What in the name of the Force? Alex felt waves of exhaustion wash over her. The Force clamped down on her mind one word vibrating over and over. Sleep. Her own voice rattling inside her mind. She quickly tried to pull back, but it was too late. The connection was made, and her own strength betrayed her. Alex could not explain what was happening, kriff she barely understood a fraction of what she felt. The moment her mind had begun to press on the Sith…something had been triggered. What was it? Some artifact? A Defense? Even as the Sith slumped unconscious the waves of exhaustion still hammered her mind. There was nearly nothing she could do. The surprise of the assault coupled with the strength made fighting through almost impossible.

Alex stumbled, and fell, just barely sticking her arm out in time. The connection was mercifully broken when she hit the durasteel floor. It was a minor miracle she remained conscious. Frankly, little more than sheer dumb luck. Her body and mind felt absolutely spent. The Jedi Master took one deep breath before trying to stand. Nope. That would be a mistake.

Thankfully, the coms came alive again with cheers. The Sith were retreating. Stolas had called for a full retreat. The Rangers, Jedi, and Defense forces had won. She nearly could not believe it. Alex took another deep breath. She finally managed to stand, her legs wobbly, her mind begging for rest. Whatever the Sith had done felt like a deep violation. More troubling, she could not even begin to conceptualize what had happened. She should have been celebrating but now she was exhausted with more work to do. The rest of the Jedi could handle the cleanup. “See that our Sith friend is secured.” Even her voice sounded tired. “Master Forge and I need to contact the Council.” They needed to be alerted to the results of the battle and whatever had just happened when her mind touched the Sith.

OOC: End Thread of Alex

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

Vayla’s attention was suddenly split as something was removed from her person, glancing to watch a pistol fly from her belt toward the hand of, not a Sith, but a Jedi. It was the Sith who was being shot at. Had that been part of the plan? Was she forgetting something? Either way, their efforts had paid off. The Sith might have warded off those blaster bolts had she not been distracted with two other Jedi trying to put her to ‘sleep’ another way. They might have done so in moments but, in hindsight, Vinry’s little trick sped the process up as their quarry fell unconscious.

“Huh… That works too.” Vayla tilted her head from the prisoner to the Jedi who had put her down, extending a hand toward the latter. “Can I have my blaster back now, please?” She was grateful for the gesture but, as much as she would not lose herself in the amusement of the scene, that blaster belonged on her belt and that Sith belonged behind a barrier.

So does her mind. If it wasn’t for having her pistol stolen from her person then Vayla may have succumbed to the same ordeal that Alex had. The Pantoran had not been as possessed on the mental assault so much as the physical but, either way, the lot of them were clearly dealing with a skilled adversary. Lending a hand, Vayla helped Alex to her feet.

“I will make it so,” she responded to the Master’s direction on securing their Sith. “Do what must be done. We will do the same.” With a final nod, Vayla apprehended said Sith and took her into custody, supported by whatever Jedi came with her.