The Battle of Coruscant -- Clash in the Skies

[Rom]

Neither side had expected the assault on the system to progress as it had, but by the end, it was clear that the only real obstacle standing between Coruscant and her enemies was the Alliance fleet in orbit. The fierce battles that had been raging all across the system just hours before had been extinguished. Entire Alliance battle groups and the garrisons stationed on Coruscant's moons had been decimated. Now what was left of the Alliance Fifth Fleet hugged tight to the planet for their final stand.

Against overwhelming odds such as those they faced, a victory above Coruscant was impossible for the Alliance, but there was still a chance, however slight, that the soldiers on the surface could repel the assault and force their enemies to abandon the siege. They had to make this last attack a costly one for the Imperium and Mandalorians, and so it fell to the Alliance forces in orbit to thin the enemy ranks, destroying as many of their dropships and landers as possible. Their line might break in the end and the remainder of their forces scatter, but their defiance, steadfast courage, and sacrifice would be remembered throughout the ages... and if the Force was with them, perhaps they would give their brothers and sisters in arms fighting far below the advantage they needed to win.

----------

If this thread becomes crowded, you may split off and create a new one which takes place alongside the first. Please be sure to title the thread appropriately and post a link in the OOC discussion. If you have any questions, please contact Vencu, GABA, or Rom.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

"Get your asses in gear, people! The Sith are here, and they've brought plenty of firepower with them!" Clawdite Admiral Myra Elysar yelled out to the bridge crew of the Sentinel, the flagship of the Galactic Alliance Fifth Action Fleet. One of the Valiant-class Star Dreadnaughts serving in the GAN, she had been serving with the ship and her crew for a while now, and knew she was damn near capable of anything. Hopefully, she was capable of holding the line in orbit over Coruscant.

This little exchange in the skies over the capitol had been going on for a while already, and yet so far neither side had really gained an advantage over the other. The Fifth Fleet had managed to keep the Imperials back, preventing their larger ships from starting orbital bombardments of the surface, but some of their smaller ships were slipping through and they already had a lot of gunships planet-side, with many more on their way. Though Myra's fleet was powerful and a match for the Imperials, it was known, not just by her but by everyone, that they would not be able to pull off a victory, not unless the Alliance pooled the rest of their collective fleets to Coruscant, which would be impossible.

Standing on the bridge of the Sentinel, staring out at the Imperial Fleet, Myra frowned. She hated taking part in futile engagements with almost no chance of victory, but it wasn't like she could leave now. Not while there were still soldiers on the ground that desperately needed the cover of the orbiting Alliance fleet. No, Myra had to stay and fight, do what every she could, and then worry about saving her crew. The Sith wanted Coruscant, and they would have it. But Myra was going to make sure she made their investment in the city-world a very costly one.

In her head, she assessed her fleet's assets. The Sentinel, was the largest ship here, and as such was functioning as the Command Ship for the Battle. There was also a trio of Heroic-class Star Destroyers that were doing what they could to punish the Imperial Fleet, two Intrepid-class Carrier/Destroyers acting as the launch base and repair station for the Alliance starfighters, four Justicar-class Star Defenders, three Dauntless-class Star Destroyers hanging back to catch the Imperials that slipped past the bulk of the fleet, with two more of the vessels hanging in the atmoshpere to support the ground forces, a pair of Indominable-class Assault Frigates supporting the Sentinel, four Sanction-class Medium Cruisers throughout the system, and four Justice-class Gunships hanging towards the back of the formation so as to take on Imperial gunships that made it through.

Not a shabby complement of warships Myra though, but she would need to use each and every one of them efficiently to take on the Imperials. No doubt they had brought the best and brightest of the Imperial Academies here along with the veterans of Alsakan and Brentaal, so today Myra would have to do the best she could. "Status on our fleet?" Myra asked aloud, to no one in particular. A man, probably in his early 30's, approached the Admiral. "All ships registering at at least 90%, Admiral. Unfortunately, our assessments believe the same is of the Imperial Fleet." He stated, confirming Myra's thoughts. Neither side had an advantage in this naval battle, and she would need to make the most of that.

She thought over what needed to be done to at least register as a partial success to her. The Imps were still launching gunships, so those needed to be neutralized, that way the SpecForce boys on the ground won't have to deal with endless waves of Stormtroopers. Transports, both civilian and military, were loading people up as the battle raged, and as ruthless as the Sith are, they aren't going to let anyone escape, so those evac ships would need to be guarded. There was also fighting going on over at Centax-1 and Centax-2, so Admiral Elysar would need to keep the Imperials right where they are, rather than move to support their other operations. It was quite the task, but if there was anyone who could do it, it was her, her and the brave men and women of the Fifth Action Fleet.

 

[The Kyzer]

The Build-Up Theme​

High above the minor battles raging across Coruscant, the Sith Armada approached. Captain Kylis Risenfel had been on the surface of the capital world, aiding where he could in the confusion caused by the Jedi's retreat when the Imperium had attacked. At great risk to his own life, Kylis had commandeered a R-25 Rogue fighter, along with his astromech Rex, and took the fight to the Imperials and their cohorts, the Mandalorians, gunning down multiple dropships and their escort fighters. After hours of fighting, the captain finally managed to regroup with the 5th Fleet, only to see that the majority of Coruscant's other defending fleets had been wiped out. The 5th was in dire straits as well.

As he reached orbit, Kylis received a message from Admiral Hackett. The captain wasn't sure where the aged veteran actually was, but that didn't really matter too much.

"Captain, by order of GA High Command, you are to assume command of the Star Destroyer Etherhawk and aid Admiral Elysar's 5th Fleet," the aged admiral's gravelly voice commanded, "Hackett out."

After quickly confirming the order, Kylis scanned the area before him for the Star Destroyer in question. When he found it, the captain let out a low whistle. The Etherhawk was a Heroic-class Star Destroyer, and one that apparently hadn't been in on the heavy fighting that had taken place earlier.

"This is Captain Kylis Risenfel," he announced as he made his way to the massive warship before relaying his own officer comm-codes. A quick confirmation was received, and Kylis landed the starfighter easily in the main hangar. Popping open the hatch of the fighter as he landed, the captain easily raised himself up and hopped out of the still-running fighter. Someone else would deal with it, as he had much more important duties to see to. Rex easily popped himself out of his socket to follow his leader.

Two minutes later, the captain palmed the opening mechanism on the massive door before him and entered the ship's command bridge.

"Captain on deck!" an ensign shouted, and everyone turned to salute their new commanding officer. Kylis returned the salute and continued walking forward, examining the warship's layout. It was a bit different than the simulation bridge he'd used a few weeks before, but not too much. A commander's chair had been deployed for him, along with a maneuverable command console.

Kylis smirked at this last while a lieutenant approached him urgently, saluting when he came to a stop.

"Lieutenant Flouten, sir!" the young man announced.

Kylis shook his head and turned to the rest of the bridge officers and crew.

"We're in for the most grueling fight in the history of the Galactic Alliance," he stated loud and clear, "We're outnumbered and outflanked with our backs against the wall, our home. So, dispense with the spit and polish now. I, for one, don't have time for it."

Then he turned back to the still-saluting lieutenant and casually waved a return-salute.

"What is it, LT?" the captain asked impatiently.

"Admiral Elysar wants to know the status of our ship, sir," the junior officer replied, a bit shaken by this new gruff commander.

"Then send out a damn status report," Kylis replied, a bit irritated, "You have a mind of your own, you know. Use it. Also, let her know who's commanding this tub. She'll get a kick out of that."

The young man saluted, a bit embarrassed, and ran off to reply to the admiral's request. The captain continued his inspection and noticed a few of the ensigns he'd commanded during Admiral Elysar's simulation manning some of the controls. He made it a point to make eye-contact with them, lending what little assurance he could to them, before continuing on.

Kylis sat down in his command chair, surveying the scene before him. Off in the distance to his right, small specks of grey and silver broke the immense starfield. The Imperial Armada. To his left, the brilliant skyline of Coruscant, broken only by slivers of grey and silver. The 5th Fleet.

"Alright, get us over there," the captain ordered, "Full speed. We need to aid the Admiral."

The massive Etherhawk's powerful engines lit up with the sudden surge of power and charged forward, directly at the 5th's right flank.

 

[Rom]

Theme
​

Coruscant, the jewel of the Core and Capital of the Galactic Alliance, was dimming. All around it's orbit wreckage floated like twisted and mangled corpses, venting atmosphere and bodies into an endless dance through the Void. The fighting had been hard for the last day as the invasion force moved deeper into the system, Imperium forces passing through Centax 1-2 like a plasma torch and setting its sights on the victory that awaited... and had been stonewalled by the Alliance fleet. Certainly many landers and dropships had gotten through the Alliance screen and were wreaking havoc on the City below, but all of their larger ships along with an even larger force of landers were waiting to move in on their targets. Standing on the bridge of his new command ship, an Invictus-class Star Dreadnought named The Dark Paladin, a Corellian with hard eyes and greying hair looked down the long bridge through the viewports and at the battle raging in the distance. The pressed white uniform with gold piping along with the pips and bars along his chest and shoulders designated him as a Grand Admiral. The Grand Admiral in this case; Robert Stark.

Some called him the modern Thrawn. Others scoffed at his flawless record of engagement victories; assuming they were merely against ragtag pirate flotillas and smugglers... everyone loses eventually. Yet all will admit that he is one of the most gifted admiral to have served under the Imperial banner in many hundreds of years.


'Well, they certainly have proven more resilient than expected... still, is it really any wonder? They know that in the end they do not have a chance... that they have no way of defeating the thrust that is about to lay them low to die, venting atmosphere and burning brief starbursts of red and orange. This furious storm of turbolaser fire and missiles will sweep them away across the Void... but if they don't hold the line, than no one will. And they arent willing to be the cowards that let Coruscant fall undefended, so they will fight to the last. A pity.'


His thoughts were interrupted as a Flight Lieutenant walked up the gangway and saluted crisply before handing over a datapad with the most recent battle reports, showing that the bulk of their ships were mostly undamaged, with the Paladin at 99.9% combat effectiveness."Grand Admiral Stark, sir! We've got reports coming in that the Alliance is amassing for another engagement.. the 2nd Fleet was reassigned to Centax-1 as the fighting has gotten heavier, so it's just the 3rd and elements of the 4th under your command."

The Corellian merely nodded, his sharp eyes already gazing out of the viewports and looking over his assembled forces from the Third Fleet. His own Dark Paladin was the clear command ship, the Super Star Destroyer dwarfing most if not all of the ships on the battlefield. Arrayed all around him like knives waiting to plunge into the heart of the enemy were five Titan-class Star Destroyers, two Pantheon class Star Destroyers, six Devastator-class Star Destroyers, and their accompanying support craft. Two Maelstrom class Battlecruisers served as the primary carriers of the Fleet, while three Asiadon missile frigates hung back like firafax sharks, lining up firing solutions. Lurking inbetween the larger capital ships, five corvettes silently prepared to move in on their foe; 3 Praetor anti-starfighter corvettes and a pair of Avenger-class corvettes.

Behind the battle fleet jostling for position as they floated in space, hundreds of landers and dropships waited to fulfill their purpose. The invasion force of Coruscant.

"Lieutenant Holiday, please sound the alarm... I want all hands on deck. Fighters across the fleet, prepare to launch. Have half of the Dominators load up seismic charges... Lord Vereor showed us the advantage they can bring and perhaps it will be useful. I want those Asiadons to have firing solutions on the support craft of that Star Dreadnought and I wanted it yesterday! We are going to carve a path through this rabble and allow our men and women to land and take what is rightfully ours... and may the Stars have mercy, because we wont." His message was broadcast across the fleet as the mighty warships all powered up into active engagement, resulting in whoops and cheers from eager Imperium and Sith pilots, ready to get out their and vape their first Alliance grunt. Naval officers and technicians began to run about, checking consoles and last minute preparations.

Numerically they were at a disadvantage, though the Imperial warmachines had shown their worth time and time again; more than making up for the disparity in numbers. Not to mention the 4th Fleet elements should be arriving shortly from Centax-1. Grand Admiral Stark stood at the viewport, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed his fleets preparations. And he smiled.

"If only they knew of the Storm we are about to unleash upon them."

 

[Nor'baal]

''This is Admiral Norrington to fleet, engage enemy hostile's. Defend the landing ships at any and all costs. '' the Imperial Admiral growled across his fleet's intercom. From the Bridge of the 'Fist of the Empire' a Titan Class star Destroyer, he surveyed his fleet. to his right was a Pantheon Class Star Destroyer, and to his left two Devastator Class Vessels. That alone would have struck fear into any opponent, but further to his massive vessels and Asaiadon frigate and Aegis frigate and finally two praetors corvettes complimented his fleet.

The Admiral took a seat in his command chair and took a sip from his cup of Caf as he observed his vessel's taking positions. Calmly, he pulled off the white glove on his right hand, and pressed a button on his chair before saying ''All Vessels, standard formation, move over the drop-ships, fire and advance. Fighter's deploy when enemy fighters come into strike range. Capital Ships fire at any hostile that comes near the drop-ships, all other vessels defend the capital ships.''

He returned the glove to his hand, and order dinner to be bought to the bridge. I'll have Krayt with a side order of Valmarr I think....thought the Admiral as he watched a stray fighter crash into the upside of his ship, doing no damage. Yes, that sounds nice...

He sighed, he had forgotten something ''Grand Admiral Stark, this is Admiral Norrington, reporting in as usual...''

OOC: Behold, the ever-so-civilised Admiral Norrington!

 

[Sleven]

Euron stood at the helm of the command bridge of one of the Pantheon-class Star Destroyers perfectly at ease. With the sleeves of his uniform rolled up to his elbows and the upper most buttons of his collar left undone, Euron’s insouciantly clad attire matched his state of mind. As Admiral Stark’s message sounded fresh in the ears of his men, Euron turned and sauntered to face them.

Seismic charges would be the Admiral’s first play, likely to break up the defending vessels and increase the fleet’s ability to inflict damage. Logically, this would allow a complete puncture of their line during a follow-up head on attack. But in live scenarios did anything ever go according to plan? Euron thought not, keeping his men at the ready.

As the commanding officer of one of only two Pantheon-classes, he would likely serve as one of the lynchpins in the Admiral’s plan. His vessel’s modularity and versatility coming into play as a role swapping craft for the larger Titan-class warships that made up the bulk of the fleet’s firepower.

Approaching briskly Euron’s austere Lieutenant spoke, “We await your orders Captain,” while taking her place at his side.

Smiling, Euron only gave a nod followed by a long silence.

“Sir?” the Lieutenant offered, attempting to elicit a response.

“We’re waiting for Admiral Stark’s plan to begin my dear,” Euron finally spoke, his voice playing like the fine tuned strings of a harp, its lustrous notes soured by a devilish smile. “Let’s not forget our objective is to maximize the amount of dropships and landers planetside, not to dive headfirst into the enemy. There is no need to rush victory.”

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Admiral Elysar stared spitefully at the Imperial Fleet as they began moving into their positions. They were moving in for their attack. "The fire rises." She said to herself, referring to all the tension that had been building up, not only in her but every last man and woman on Coruscant since their arrival in the system. The Fifth Fleet had dared the Empire to make a move, and they were getting ready for it. This is the fight that would help decide the victor of the battle of Coruscant. With air superiority, the winning fleet could support the ground forces long enough for reinforcements came in. It was up to them to win this battle.

A lieutenant rushed to Myra's side, carrying a datapad and an stern look on his face. "Lieutenant." Myra stated, nodding to the man to speak. The gruff, middle-aged man looked down at his datapad before speaking. "The Etherhawk has been comandeered under the orders of Admiral Hacket, ma'am." This statement caused Myra to growl a little under her breath. If there was one thing she didn't need to deal with at the moment, it was Hacket getting in her business. Raising an eyebrow, Myra asked "Who has taken captaincy of the Etherhawk then?"

The Lieutenant looked down at his datapad once more before looking up and answering. "Captain Kylis Risenfel, ma'am." The answer wasn't the one she was expecting, intending to here that one of Hacket's loyal hounds or even Hacket himself may have taken control of the ship, but she knew Captain Risenfel, and he was a damn fine man. "Very well, then. Inform Captain Risenfel I have acknowledged his captaincy of the Etherhawk." She said, as the Lieutenant nodded and ran away. She was somewhat glad Risenfel was here; if the rumors were true and their really was a Grand Admiral leading the Imperial Fleet, then Myra would need as many aces in the hole as she could get.

Turning to another of her lieutenants, a young Twi'lek girl who had proven herself aboard the Sentinel, Myra motioned for her to come closer. "I want all Rogue Wing squadrons ready to launch at my command. Check the Fleet Rosters and get me the IDs of our best fighter pilots. On the double!" Receiving a short and quick "Yes ma'am!" before the girl ran off to do as told, Myra smiled and looked back out into the not-so-empty vacuum of space. Her and the Fifth Fleet was the only thing standing between the Imperial Fleet and Coruscant. "There's going to be a lot of casualties today..."

 

[The Kyzer]

"Sir, Admiral Elysar has acknowledged your captaincy of the Etherhawk," a communications officer announced.

"Good," Kylis replied with a smile, "I'd hate to have to enter a battle illegally captaining a ship."

The captain heard an officer down in the pits snort at the dry humor, lightening Kylis' heart some.

At least we can still laugh, he thought as he brought up the general diagnostics for the ship on his command console. The seemingly endless stream of systems checking-in scrolled down his screen.

"Prepare all fighters for launch," Kylis then ordered, "And prime ALL systems for immediate activity. Why in the hell are half the systems still in kriffing shakedown?"

"Because the ship was still in the shipyards when the battle began, sir!" Lieutenant Flouten answered as the other officers rushed about to comply with their commander's orders.

"Did no one think it would be a good idea to have the ship space-worthy when the Imperials were blatantly readying to invade?" Kylis then seethed.

"Well, sir," the lieutenant answered slowly, a little shaken by his new commander still, "this ship served at Alsakan, and took a severe beating. The fact that the ship reached 100% by now was nothing short of a miracle."

"Alsakan huh?" Kylis replied inquisitively, "Facing the Mandalorians and Imps?"

"Yes, sir," Flouten answered, "But none of the crew here were present during the battle. The bridge took a direct hit and lost its entire command crew. It was only barely saved by the secondary bridge officers."

The captain nodded, and looked around. Now that the lieutenant mentioned it, this part of the ship did look a bit newer and cleaner than the rest of the vessel.

"Right then," Kylis began, "So when the battle began..."

"We were busy intializing the ship's data and command systems," Flouten finished, "That's why we missed the battle."

Kylis grunted slightly and peered back at the command console, switching it to a tactical overview.

"Alright, let's make sure not to miss this one," the captain announced. Flouten merely nodded respectfully and pulled out his own datapad, checking on the ship's readiness.

The mile-long ship silently glided through space at 150% of full speed, the need for speed overruling many of the other systems. When they neared the operation area, though, Kylis had the engines cut back down to standard all-full, and diverted power back to the other systems.

"We are on-scene, sir," a navigations officer announced to the captain.

"Good," Kylis barked as he examined the command console, "Pull us over by those other Heroics. Link-up communications directly with their commanding officers. I've a strategy. And bring up Admiral Elysar on a closed private comm. I need to speak with her."

 

[ARC2197]

Rohak stood on the bridge of his Strill-class, the Nynir, watching as the blue-and-white streaks and swirls of hyperspace collapsed back into the blackness of normal space, pinpricked with motes of light. "Helm, how's our arrival?"
"Near excellent, sir, and both destroyers report nominal conditions. All fighters are ready to launch on your command."
"Excellent. See if you can contact out allies' commanding officer and get a SitRep from them. For now, I want our destroyers sandwiching the landing forces, full fighter screens and fire support for any troops on the ground."
"Aye aye, sir." The officer walked away briskly, heading for the CIC with Rohak's instructions.
Well, I couldn't be here earlier, so I'm going to make damn sure that I show ner vode what I can do. Buire, I know you're watching, and I'll do you proud. This was Rohak's chance at...redemption? Retaliation? This is my chance to prove to everyone that I am a true Mando'verd, a warrior just like them. Oh, how I wish I was aboard one of those gunships...

 

[Rom]

Boiling forth from the Star Destroyers like a plague of locust TIE fighters of all varieties entered the Void with silent screams, their numbers and precision making them look less like individual fighters and more like a single ship. Near the front were four squadrons of the Dominator class TIEs, Space Superiority fighters with modular weapon loadouts designed to make them some of the most versatile fighters in the Imperial Fleet. Their pilots were some of the best the Empire had to offer, and their mission was simple; destabilize the enemy line.

Surging forward to cut through and around the debris that had created a ship graveyard above Coruscant, using the bouncing metal and their small profiles to stay mostly hidden from the enemy sensors, the fighters put on a burst of speed and swung up and around the debris field to pierce the enemy line from below. They moved swiftly, taking advantage of the densely packed ships to swing inbetween the large vessels, preventing the others from bringing fire to bear on them for fear of hitting their own fleet. The enemy fighters had not been launched yet, so the nimble fighters aimed to twist and glide around the scattered turbolaser fire, close enough to light up their cockpit with red light and boil the paint from the hull. Their targeting computers pinged with updated orders from the Dark Paladin, and the squadrons peeled away to follow them.

The pair of Intrepid class carriers each received a Squadron, and the twelve ships flew low over the hulls, darting inbetween gun emplacements and signal towers, their bomb bays open and ejecting two seismic charges apiece. The fighters looped close to the hull and down through the fleet, harried by blasterfire the entire way, before making it double quick back towards the fleet while the other two squadrons dropped their ordinance along the hull of the Valiant-class Command Ship and made to flee. Twenty four seismic charges per carrier and a total of forty eight charges for the Valiant fell towards the hull of their targets from the force of the ejector, clattering against the hull and beeping twice before exploding with a roar lost to the void of space. Massive blue arcs of energy slammed into the fleet, sending smaller ships tumbling through space and crashing through the defenses of their main targets - the aim to put the enemy fleet off of their pre-planned coordination and cause as much damage and chaos as possible.

Far off in the distance, Grand Admiral Stark watched from the Bridge Tower as the expanding wave of blue energy scythed through the enemy fleet and left them floundering in space. He gripped the guard-rail surrounding the elevated viewing platform tightly before turning to his Gunnery Lieutenant and nodding his approval.

" Lieutenant Holiday, once we've seen how they respond to our little house-warming gift we will move the main Fleet element in to do battle and capitalize on the chaos.... Norrington, if I catch you eating on the Bridge during a battle again you will be demoted to ensign so fast your head will spin. Gentlemen... defend those landers with your very lives. The fate of the war is depending on it."

 

[Nor'baal]

The Admiral watches as the most horrific thing he had ever borne witness to took place before his eyes. His unfinished dinner being cleared away. That accursed ''Grand'' Admiral Stark had to ruin everything didn't he. Perhaps Norrington would ''forget'' to provide support to the Grand Admiral if and when he ever needed it. Heartless man, taking away his dinner, though Norrington.

He turned his command chair around, and calmly hit the vox button:

''Norrington to fleet, deploy fighters. Intercept and destroy Rebel ships. Capitol vessels mark targets, engage in one on one combat with the enemy, keep close and watch your arcs of fire. Fist of the Empire, fire control room? Activate planetary bombardment and lay waste to the fleeing Rebels ships. main weapons to full power, target that enemy flagship and advance. Remember, destroy all fleeing ships, especially the civilian ones.''

What sort of cold heartless man took away someone's dinner? Thought the Admiral, as he watched an evacuee ship vanish in a blanket of plasma through the viewing window.

 

[Sleven]

One of the Heroic-classes had pulled up to the 5th fleet’s right flank and had begun moving itself towards the other two. A curious break in formation that Euron took note of. It seemed to be acting on its own while the main fleet sat at the ready for Imperial advancement.

As Euron eyed the curious movement of one of the Heroic-class crafts his lieutenant spoke in her stiff voice, “Sir, we’ve just made contact with two Mandalorian destroyers coming out of hyperspace. They appear to be moving their destroyers to both sides of our landing forces.”

“Noted Lieutenant,” Euron spoke, his tone still rhythmic but gaining an edge of candor, “Get me Stark on the comm as the TIEs carry out their attack pattern.”

“You heard the man!” she spoke with vigor as one of the deck hands linked the Pantheon-class to the command bridge of the flagship.

As the attack pattern was being carried out by the swarm of TIE fighters, Grand Admiral Stark was preparing the main fleet for battle as Euron had predicted, announcing it over the main fleet’s comms. Waiting for Stark to finish delivering his orders, Euron had one minor adjustment he offered to make as he observed the ensuing battle carefully, “Grand Admiral, during our initial engagement may I suggest the recent arrival of Mandalorian destroyers be charged with providing cover for a preliminary drop group. Their valor and skill in combat is renowned, making them ideal candidates to serve as both shock troops and primary escorts during our coming assault. Let them test the waters while we engage our secondary objective. I’d like to see how the Alliance plans to move.”

He coated his intentions in honeyed words and half-truths. Why suffer unnecessary losses to the Imperial fleet when the Mandalorians could front the risk of the initial puncture? The moment any dropships came into play, it was likely that the ones guarding them would take the brunt of the Alliance’s focus. Furthermore, a preliminary group would ensure Imperial forces could see at least part of the Alliance’s hand without risking the bulk of their dropships. And if ignored, or allowed to pass with ease for the sake of the engagement, it would still be a victory for the Imperium.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

The ground shook from under Myra, sending her to the floor the Sentinel shook so much. Landing on her hands and feet, she quickly made her way back up and looked around. "Someone give me a damage report!" The Admiral barked out. A young man who had just crawled back to his chair after being thrown from it replied. "At least 20 percent damage to the shields, nothing exact yet. It seems like they threw a mess of seismic charges at us. Some other cruisers of the fleet report similar attacks." He stated. So the Imperials threw the first stone, huh. They'd better be ready for the boulder about to be sent back.

"Lieutenant Jordan!" Myra yelled out. A gruff human man stepped forward. "Yes, ma'am?" He asked. Myra cleared her throat. "Inform all Rogue Wing Squadron Commanders they have permission to launch. I want a squadron assigned to the cover the Sentinel in the case of another enemy bombing run." The man affirmed the order then went away to carry it out. Gathering her composure, she spoke loud enough to be heard throughout the bridge. "I want the Sentinel to hang back here to coordinate the battle and to provide a final line if enemy troopships break through. Keep our carriers hanging back behind the combat ships to act as a repair ship for fighters. Every other ship in the fleet, lets put the choke hold around them.

"Someone put me into contact with Captain Risenfel. He's to lead this initial charge." She waited for a minute as crewmen went about their duties, and soon a young, blue-skinned Twi'lek man approached her. "Admiral, Captain Risenfel wishes to speak with you on a closed channel." She smiled. One step ahead of her. She nodded. "Put him through my personal comlink." She ordered. The man nodded and went away, stopping by the comm station. Putting the comm up to her ear, she got confirmation the line was attached. "Captain Risenfel, this is Admiral Elysar. Glad to see you didn't miss this fight."

 

[The Kyzer]

"Captain Risenfel, this is Admiral Elysar. Glad to see you didn't miss this fight."

The captain smirked slightly and thumbed his comm-unit.

"Sorry about missing the first round, ma'am," Kylis answered, "Got stuck ground-side trying to calm down some rather upset citizens."

He waited for the admiral to catch the dry joke for a moment, as Kylis had truly been stuck planet-side aiding in the pacification of several riots.

Suddenly his viewscreen was filled with the sight of the Imperial fleet opposite the Etherhawk making the first moves of the newest engagement. While the bulk of the Imperials had unleashed what Kylis would call an inventive skirmishing tactic, the rest had only moved slightly...until now. Terajoules of deadly turbolaser energy filled the space between the fleets. At this range most missed, and even those that did make contact were glancing at best. The mile-long Star Destroyer's shields could certainly handle that.

The IFF transponders for the ship directly ahead was the Fist of the Empire, a massive Titan-class Star Destroyer. It outgunned the Etherhawk by more than 40 to one by weapon-count. That wasn't even calculating the fact that most of the Fist's armament were classified has heavy capital weapons, or its immense starfighter compliment. On the bright side, the huge Imperial warship was firing on nearly anything that moved and wasn't concentrating its fire on the Etherhawk.

"Anyway, I was wondering if I could borrow the Heroics," the GA captain continued, ignoring the bad pun he'd just made, "I've an idea."

Kylis then smiled grimly and tapped his fingers on his small command console.

 

[Ten10dix]

"This is the Heroic-Class Star Destroyer "Justicar", requesting permission to form up with the main fleet."

The Justicar had been rushing towards the Alliance fleet as fast as it could, eager to get into the fight. Captain Jonas K. Leroy stood in the center of the bridge, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the void, at the Imperial Fleet. No, at the Sith Fleet. Not that he could actually see it in any great detail, due to the distance, but it looked good so he did it anyway. Not much else for him to do, as his crew were either at their stations working furiously or running around, relaying information and orders. He liked it when the bridge buzzed with activity. It meant he had a fight on his hands, and yet another chance to prove himself in the midst of battle.

He turned his head, looking down at his First Lieutenant.

"Andrews, pull her up on the flanks and get Squadron Commander Warren on deck immediately, I need to brief him.

First Lieutenant Andrews nodded, and soon the Justicar was on the right flank of the Alliance fleet, its guns were brought to bear on the Imperial Fleet and it joined the other Alliance ships in pounding the enemy. Warren arrived on the bridge, saluted and Leroy turned around, nodding.

"At ease Commander. Our main priority are the dropships. They should be easy enough to shoot down, but they will most certainly be escorted by Sith fighter formations. Deal with the dropships as you see fit, but deal with them you must. If you think it best to not commit our entire fighter force to the dropships, inform Lieutenant Andrews and he shall relocate them.

Commander Warren nodded his approval, saluted, and turned to walk out.

"And Commander? Good luck."

Leroy turned back as he left. The ship shook suddenly as it was hit by a turbo laser. He listened as the officers dismissed the damage, saying they were too far away for anything to really hurt. They were right, of course. The Sith seemed content to just fire from range.

"Switch to the heavy turbo lasers, they'll be more accurate at longer ranges than the Class 5s. No point in wasting fire like that. Double check to make sure all weapon systems are fully operational. Double check to make sure the shield is fully charged. Actually, double check everything. We have the time, might as well make sure our ship is at its best. It'll need to be...

Leroy continued his gaze towards the Sith fleet. He had always known that, were the Emperor ever to ordain it, the Empire could easily thrash the Alliance and destroy them. A shame the Sith used that potential for their own ends. The First Lieutenant rushed up to him, and informed him of the Admiral's plan to charge onto the enemy fleet.

"What? What charge? Why are we charging at them? Put me on a secure channel with the Admiral!"

"Aye Sir, consider it done."

A few moments passed. Leroy still didn't understand why they were charging at the Sith. Their orders were to hold the line, yet closing in on the Sith fleet would only get them killed more quickly. True, they would have the element of surprise, but it wouldn't do them much good. The enemy would see them coming, after all. The channel was set up, and Leroy spoke.

"Admiral, this is Captain Leroy of the Justicar. I am requesting you rethink your plan of attack. Under normal circumstances, I would be the first to rush at the enemy, but our orders are to hold the line and not let any Sith ships through. Charging would leave the planet vulnerable, and allow more of the enemy to land. I humbly suggest we stand our ground, and let them Sith come to us. That way we can ensure the defense of the planet. Also, the Sith don't seem to be doing much to attack us yet. If they wish to wait, we should wait. Like I said, our orders are to hold the line for as long as possible. Let them waste their time sending fighters at us. We shouldn't rush off to be killed. Your soldiers, your brothers in arms, are counting on us to stem the tide of Sith forces, and rushing in blindly towards our destruction is not the way to do it. Ma'am.

He hoped he had been tactful enough. The last thing they needed was a debate on military tactics on the verge of the most important battle this century. If the Admiral thought it best to charge, then charge Leroy would. He may not agree with her, and she may be Alliance military, but she was still his superior. Nothing he could do about that.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Across all means of communication, be they nearby HoloNet screens, personal communication devices, military communication systems, and more, a small hologram of the injured Alliance Chief of State, Nathanaeu Bastele, appeared before everyone who could see it. His face was shredded, with one of his eyes practically hanging from the socket. His body was torn apart, with his insides visible. It was a gruesome sight, showing just how bad the battle was. If the Chief of State could be this hurt, anyone could. Anyone could be killed.

But he had a message to send, one more important than what happened to him. It was garbled, with the chaos of the battle and Sith jammers preventing it from fully being reached, but there was enough to understand what Bastele was saying:

"This is Nathanaeu Bastele. A Sith warship… descending… Jedi Temple. I don’t know… planning but... If you can hear… evacuate or head underground… all costs. Coruscant… gone. The Alliance is falling. Save yourselves and… Force… with you."

With that, the transmission faded away. The end of the Alliance had come.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Hours later...

The fighting had been very thick for the past time. Imperial dropships went in to penetrate the Alliance line, some were shot down while others made it through, some Imperial cruisers were badly damaged, but so were Alliance cruisers. Though neither side had a real advantage over the other at the moment, it seemed to be that the Fifth Fleet wouldn't be able to hold out forever. It seemed the clash in the skies was about to come to its peak. That was when the transmission came through.

"Oh, shi..." Myra muttered as the image of the badly injured GA Chief of State Bastele appeared on various monitors and holocomms. He was, in a word, mutilated, and the transmission was filled with static and snow, making it hard to decipher, but what little came through was enough to identify his orders: evacuate. If the Chief had fallen, this battle had taken a turn for the worse. The Admiral and a few others were visibly shocked, those with weak stomachs were almost hurling at the sight of him, and many of the crew went into a silent panic mode.

Once his transmission was done, all heads now turned to the Admiral, awaiting further orders. The Chief of State had reached military channels, and as such this was an official order. As much as Myra wanted to see if she could best her Imperial opponent, orders were orders. "Lieutenant Robbins, any more evac ships exiting the atmosphere?" A young human man stepped forward, his hand on his comlink earpiece. "Two light freighters, asking for cover as they make their escape. They're carrying wounded soldiers."

Myra nodded. "I'm calling a retreat. Get every cruiser and ship on the horn and inform them. All fighters should get back to their hangars, and I want the support ships to exit the gravity well immediately. Once those two freighters are clear, the rest of the Fleet will follow. As we're pulling out, keep any guns that still have firing solutions to keep firing on the fleet. We might be running away, but we might as well give these bastards some work to do while we plan our next move." With that said, every bridge crew-member got to work, carrying out their orders.

Looking out to space, beyond the viewports of the bridge of the Sentinel, Myra metaphorically locked gaze with the Imperial Admiral sitting within the Super Star Destroyer and growled menacingly. "Rat bastard. Enjoy your victory while it lasts."

 

[Ten10dix]

"Incoming! Brace for impact!"

The ship shook under the impact of an enemy bomber run, men were thrown about. The Justicar had taken a very hard beating, and the crew knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. Leroy stood on deck, his uniform ragged and covered in dust. The bridge was a mess, electronics sparkled and parts of the walls and ceiling were missing, revealing various wires that produced more sparks. Fires had been reported all over the ship, and some smoke still drifted about from the fire caused by the first bombing run. The lights that still worked kept flickering, and many of the remaining computer terminals stood out in the semi darkness, the light from their screens falling on the faces of a dozen men and women of various species, all looking very tired and worn out.

"Sir? Level 5 has been lost. The attack punctured a hole in the hull, we had to seal it off. Estimated 300 dead."

Leroy nodded, looking out at the approaching Sith fleet. They were advancing, ever so slowly. They acted like a predator toying with its prey, inching ever closer. They seemed to have an abundance of fighters and bombers, sending wave after wave unto the fleet. An unlucky shot while the shields were down took out the main engines, leaving the Justicar stranded. Leroy hadn't minded, knowing this was a last stand, so moving wasn't in his top priorities. When the Admiral sounded the retreat, however, that was when he realized the full extent of his predicament. He had received the communication from the Alliance Chief of State. Leroy hadn't really known him, hadn't really cared about him before, but by the looks of it he went down fighting. He respected that. He told First Lieutenant Andrews to open communications with the Admiral.

"Admiral? This is Captain Leroy. I'm afraid our engines are down, and our backups aren't fast enough to keep up. I'm redirecting my remaining fighters and bombers to the fleet to dock with you, no point in wasting them."

As he spoke he signaled to Andrews, who nodded and went about relaying the orders to the Justicar's fighters and bombers.

"Our shields are down to 6%, and we're using our reserves here, and our guns are sucking up the majority of our remaining power, we don't really need the power for anything else. We ca-"

Leroy was cut off, as Andrews shouted out another warning. More incoming bombers, this time heading directly for the bridge. He could see the incoming torpedoes, most passed by the bridge harmlessly, but one was on a direct course towards them. It hit the weakened shields, and soon after a volley of lasers blasted the bridge.

Noise. Lots of noise. Screams? Some screams. Explosions? Some of them too. Leroy looked around. Something was pulling at him, or pushing him, towards the void that was space. Lasers must of broken the bridge glass. Five seconds until the emergency blast shields came down. Everything was in slow motion. An explosion sounded to Leroy's right, but it disappeared soon after, the lack of oxygen cutting it off in its prime. Andrews was dead, impaled on the ceiling, a piece of metal through his chest. The blast shields were coming down. The metal Andrews was impaled to broke, and the corpse was sucked towards space hitting the metal doors as they sealed the bridge from space, a very audible "splat" ringing out in the confined space.

3 men left. Two marines, and another officer. The marines were getting up, the officer was shaking, cowering behind his terminal. Leroy just noticed he had been hanging onto a terminal himself, sitting behind it and pushing downwards in an attempt to escape the fate his entire command crew suffered. The bridge now really was a mess, the lights had gone out completely and the only light came from the flashes of battle outside, though even that was limited as only one window remained intact, the others having been replaced by cold steel. A light flickered as one of the marines turned a torch on. The marine rushed over to his Captain, helping him up. Leroy coughed, his eyes adjusting to the blackness. A mist of dust coated the now wrecked bridge, which caused Leroy to cough some more. The other marine started coughing too. Leroy opened his mouth, trying to thank the marine but instead finding his throat to be very dry, and that he could barely speak. He walked over to the command console, and pressed a button. Thank the force it still worked. His voice was now being transmitted throughout the entire ship. He coughed again, and tried to speak.

"All men, abandon ship."

It was all he could manage, but enough. The second marine helped the other officer up, and Leroy walked towards the escape pod located inside the bridge itself, the Captain's pod. It was supposed to be used by the Captain, First Lieutenant and other high ranking officers. Leroy glanced back at Andrews crumpled and mutilated corpse on the floor, lying in its own fresh blood. Didn't seem as if he needed it.

The pod shot out, and descended onto the planet below. One of the marines was piloting it, trying to land it in Alliance-held territory, or near it at least. Leroy looked back through the small window at the Justicar. The Sith Fleet was closing in, and the Justicar was still firing back. A Sith ship fired at it, flames appearing where the laser hit. One shot hit the torpedo bank, and that area was engulfed in flames as the ship was torn apart. Continued fire reduced the ship to nothing more than a pile of scrap floating through space.

Leroy closed his eyes as they entered the atmosphere. This wasn't going to be fun, he thought, as they fell at an impressive speed towards the ruins of what was once the Jewel of the Galaxy, now a mere battlefield.

The Last Stand of the Alliance. How poetic. How noble. Leroy sighed. How futile. All hope was lost now, of that he was certain. With the Empire now in the hands of the Sith and the Alliance wiped out completely, who would stand to oppose the Sith? Hopeless, was what it was, hopeless...

 

[The Kyzer]

[floatleft]http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20080717171254/starwars/images/4/4c/ExecutorBattle-SWM.jpg[/floatleft] This was it. The final hours. Terajoules of energy danced back and forth across the black vacuum like fireflies on a warm Corellian night, each a harbinger of death and destruction.

Captain Kylis Risenfel stared out the massive viewports on the bridge as the staggering number of Imperial ships closed ranks. The Etherhawk rattled violently as another salvo from a nearby Pantheon-class Star Destroyer. A heartbeat later the Etherhawk replied in kind. Explosions raked the Imperial craft, but it remained very intact and very intimidating. A pair of salvos slammed into the Imperial craft a few seconds later. Two more massive warships glided into position flanking the Etherhawk.

"The Valiant and the Mythic report 57% shield-integrity," a communications officer announced, "Readings for the Despoiler declare that its shields are holding at 75%."

"Tell Captain Harkend to get the Heart of the Alliance over here," Kylis demanded, "Feed him our targeting algorithms."

One of the weapons control officers announced "Firing" just before the massive Star Destroyer rumbled under the force of the batteries opening up.

The Heart of the Alliance slid into position below and to the right of the Etherhawk and opened fire on the Despoiler. The Imperial captain had apparently come to terms with his ship's precarious position and had given the order to retreat back to the Imperial front lines. As the huge ship swung away from the four Heroic-class Star Destroyers, an explosion ripped through its rear-aft quadrant. The shields had given way under the sustained fire from the GA ships, and one of the engines had been stricken.

Kylis swiftly gave new orders to pour fire into the hole, and the GA ships' storm of laser blasts sharpened to a point, wreaking even more havoc for a few seconds before the Imperial ship could efficiently muster a shield screen over the afflicted area. The captain smirked and began punching in commands on his captain's terminal. The tip of the Heroics' torrent of barrages suddenly raked across the rest of the engines.

Another explosion blasted out the back of the Despoiler and the craft began listing to port while its turn didn't stop.

"Her etheric rudder's been blown out!" Kylis cried out in triumph, "Lay it on her engines!"

The massive Imperial Star Destroyer's list slowly transformed into a roll as it reached a full 180-degree roll. The craft's turn finally ended and its speed slowed to a crawl. Its trajectory would carry it on a perpendicular course with the GA and Imperial fleets. Finally, it stopped completely, and the wolf-pack of Heroics would have moved to finish off its prey if not for a sudden burst of comm-traffic.

"We just received word from the Justicar!" one of the comms officers announced, "They're going down!"

Kylis shook his head slowly in thought and despair. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, and began issuing orders.

"All ships in the squadron move to cover her and pick up survivors!" the captain demanded, "Order all surviving starfighters to form a defensive screen! Prepare a-"

Kylis was cut off by a horrible sight. A massive Titan-class Star Destroyer slowly glided across the skies of Coruscant, its malevolent bulk attempting to cutoff the four GA warships from their dying comrades.

"Alright, shore up shields and recharge the batteries," Kylis ordered grimly, "We must stop that ship at all costs."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Life itself was dying. Coruscant, in this moment, was the closest any mortal would ever come to understanding what it would be like if Death reached out its cold hands and reaped the Force, or God, or nature, or whatever it was that made the universe spin. On the surface, and even in orbit, every living thing felt the destructive power of what the two tiny figures atop the hull of a Star Destroyer were doing. Life was being drained, sucked into the blackened and decrepit soul of a curse called Skywalker.

Those adept in history might have drawn a comparison to the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith called Darth Nihilus, a devourer of worlds, and life, and all the energy around him. Like that Dark Lord of old, Andraste was a wound in the Force, craving all of its energy and devastating everything in her path. No being escaped feeling its impacts; they felt drained, weak, like even the simplest of tasks required strength of herculean proportions. Escaping Coruscant, or even hiding, would feel like an eternity.

The planet itself was breaking. As the Empress drained the life and energy from all around her, the Dark Lord Vereor was ravaging the surface. A storm of pure Force energy was growing; lightning, real lightning and not artificially created from satellites, struck down from the clouds from all directions, in all streets and crevasses in the city, tearing swaths through buildings and dirt. The energies even reached into space, tearing apart ships and disrupting systems on so many others. The wind howled all through the sky, and tornadoes formed to destroy the artificial world that they were touching down on.

The temperature was dropping. At once it felt sickeningly hot but also colder than the snowy wastes of Hoth. The rain falling from the sky froze, turning into shards of ice as it fell, stabbing through the heads and bodies of countless thousands, if not more. The carefully constructed weather of the once-great capital of the Republic and the Alliance was torn asunder. The planet itself was now just as much the enemy of the Alliance as the Sith.

Yet at the center of all this madness was something beautiful. At the Jedi Temple, above which the Imperial Star Destroyer sat, a beautiful aurora was forming. Dark and dangerous energy collided into a green display of dancing lights, one that could have been a calming sight were it not for the life being drained from everything below it. At the core of this beauty, though, was something rotten, for the light was not a mere byproduct of the attack. It was the attack itself. The dark energies and lightning being displayed was the eldritch energy sucked into the very heart of this labyrinth by the Dark Lord himself, a reflection of the souls being sacrificed for more power.

Anyone with any sort of psychic awareness, be they Jedi or anyone even remotely attuned to the Force, could feel as those souls were taken and twisted into a dark purpose for which the Force should never have been used. It was a warning, a reminder of what the Chief of State said across the HoloNet.

Leave or die.