The Battle of Coruscant -- Clash in the Skies

[Sleven]

During the onset of the engagement Euron had executed the remainder of his plan with uncanny precision, and as a result he was solely responsible for the successful landing of most of the Imperium’s dropships on Coruscant. Utilizing the Imperium’s superior numbers and a convincing distraction (in the form of the Mandalorian destroyers), Euron was easily able to coordinate dropships under his supervision so that they met little resistance from the entangled Alliance forces.

Despite the battle nearing its conclusion, Euron’s Pantheon-class was in excellent condition, finding itself just out of reach of the Alliance’s most punishing assets during the course of its duties. Surveying the field, Euron took note of the fleeing and tattered Alliance ships as he reentered the Imperial formation.

As he did so, a communications officer on the bridge spoke up to deliver an official report, “Sir, we’ve just received word that an official retreat was issued moments ago by Chief of State Nathanaeu Bastele.”

Euron’s expression remained unchanged. The outcome of this battle had been determined long before it had begun, and the news did little to surprise him or give him pleasure. As Euron stood staring into the ether, his lieutenant spoke up to invigorate the soldiers onboard, boosting their morale in light of the recent news, “You hear that? We’ve got them on the run!---“ as she continued speaking Euron’s mind drowned out her voice. He could feel something changing in the very fabric of Coruscant itself---the result of a power Euron himself was all too familiar with.

The dark impressions of the Empress and Lord of the Sith were juxtaposed to the natural order of the universe itself. Their insatiable hunger devouring the planet and the souls of those around them in order to fuel the expressions of their tenebrous existence. The more they consumed the more their appetence grew. The darkside could never be satiated, and even the wielders of its most deadly powers were eventually consumed by the very entity they claimed to control. Feeling the encumbrance of their powers despite his position well above the planet’s orbit, Euron stabilized himself in the Force, denying the Sith any piece of his existence. He knew any impression he left in the Force might risk his discovery as a Force-sensitive, but his selfishness would not allow for even his so-called “Sith overlords” to partake in the slightest piece of himself.

“Captain! Captain!” the echo of his title rang across the bridge, bringing his attention back to his immediate surroundings.

Looking at his Lieutenant Euron shifted his eyebrows quizzically in response to her frantic repetition, despite knowing all too well what the crew of his ship was going through. “Sir! Do you feel that? I feel as if---as if everything I do requires so much---effort.”

“Aye Captain,” another officer spoke on the command bridge, confirming that everyone on the ship was undergoing the same experience.

By now Euron’s usual mask of arrogance had faded, his face hardening to stone as he grew more infuriated with the actions of Sith Empress and Dark Lord. But there was little he could do; his entire crew was now at the mercy of their power. “Just hang in there,” he spoke with a stern tone of resolve, “The powers of mysticism are at work here. If we can weather the storm we can still press forward and combat the Alliance forces.”

As he turned away from the suffering of his crew a small rictus drew itself across his face. So this is how the bitch and the lizard wanted to play it? He laughed under his breath at their cruelty. But they knew oh so little of his own…

 

[The Kyzer]

[floatleft]http://coolvibe.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/spacebattle.jpg[/floatleft] Captain Kylis Risenfel gripped the sides of his command console as the stress and anxiety of the battle began to wear on him. A GA frigate exploded violently off the starboard bow after taking a beating from a pair of Imperial heavy frigates. The massive Imperial warship before him, a Titan-class Star Destroyer, loomed closer and closer and his ideas for handling it were dwindling. He'd finally come to the conclusion that a suicidal ramming maneuver would be his final action when he felt it. A mix of cold and nausea coupled with a sudden drain on his energy, physical and mental.

The rest of the crew around him clearly felt it as several hunched over in their seats, some fainting from the intangible attack. The Titan-class Star Destroyer suddenly opened fire and the GA ships rocked from the assault. The captain watched in horror and despair as the shield readings on his console slowly ticked down. Kylis felt that he and all of his crew would die right then and there when the viewscreen before him was filled with the massive ion drives of a Star Destroyer. His tactical display informed him that he was seeing the aft section of the Heart of the Alliance. The warship suddenly turned to a perpendicular angle to the other GA ships and rotated along its long axis, presenting the largest target it could to the Imperial warship.

"Captain Risenfel," a man's voice echoed out in the dismal silence that had pervaded the bridge, "This is Captain Harkend of the Heart of the Alliance. We're going to buy you guys some time. Coruscant's lost, but you can still continue the fight. Fight on. Fight on for us. May the Force be with you."

The transmission ended with a short hiss, and Kylis' mind finally broke through the despair-inspired cloud that had pervaded moments before. He nodded in respect to the sacrifice of the Heart and her crew then leapt to his feet.

"Alright crew," he shouted, shaking them from their deep depression, "Course change to port, 90-degree turn. Navigations, plot us the fastest course out of here."

After a solid second, Kylis turned and yelled again.

"Eight thousand Alliance service beings are sacrificing their lives for yours!" he shouted, ripping out the last dregs of fear and doubt from his crew's minds, "Make it count!"

Several "Yes, sir!"'s filled the bridge and the crew began working as quickly as they could. The coldness and lack of energy was still quite palpable, but they worked as best they could anyway. The Etherhawk and her two counterparts lurched away from the Heart and Coruscant and began to speed away. They easily blasted by a pair of light frigates with scant damage and made the leap to hyperspace.

A few minutes later they exited hyperspace and waited for new orders.

"Orders, sir?" a navigations officer asked.

Kylis tapped on the back of his command chair in thought, then turned to face the crew.

"As there is no High Command at this time," Kylis said at length, "I am hereby extending my temporary command of the Etherhawk, the Valiant, and the Mythic indefinitely. Any objections?"

The captains of the other Star Destroyers voiced their acceptance of the decree quickly, and waited for further command.

"The Valiant and the Mythic are to make their way to Christophsis and wait for us there," Captain Risenfel ordered, "We need to get to Corellia."

"Corellia, sir?" another officer asked in confusion.

"We need to pick up a few things," Kylis answered.

The three ships rearranged themselves and leapt into hyperspace a few minutes later.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Coruscant was lost. There were no further doubts in Myra's mind, nor anyone else's. That was known when the Chief of State sent his 'farewell address' to everyone listening, ordering a retreat. So Myra did. Fighting through the Imperial Fleet to get to the edge of Coruscant's gravity well, it had been a struggle to slip past the massive Titan-class Star Destroyer in itself, and now it appeared that their struggle was over, that they were free. Or at least, it did seem that way.

All of a sudden, a dark force seemed to sweep through the bridge, clasping all their strength in its hand and forcing it from them. Many turned pale all of a sudden, and with the quick loss of strength many collapsed onto the floor, including Myra. Though Clawdites did not use strength to maintain a disguise, the fatigue almost caused Myra to drop her human form, though rather it turned her human skin a sickly, green color as her true skin color was, which definitely expressed the nauseous feeling inside of her.

Though focused on herself, Myra could feel that the ship stopped moving, and the guns stopped firing. She believed that, for a moment, they were done for, but the Sentinel did not rock against turbolaser fire. Curious as to why they stopped but helpless to do anything about it, Myra attempted to get up, to no avail. Opening her mouth, which required a good bit of strength in and of itself, the Admiral mouthed to words "Damn.... it..." as she used her hands to pull her body towards the Captain's Chair.

Whatever was going on, Admiral Elysar knew that if she didn't get this ship moving soon enough, they'd be dead in the water. As if requiring the strength of a Wookiee to pull her light figure, Myra struggled and struggled to get to the base of the chair, taking a breather once she did reach the base. It seemed as if her struggle now mirrored the events of this battle, but if she failed here, it would cost the lives of countless beings on board this ship. Reaching her hands up, she wrapped her fingers around the arm-rest and managed to get into a seated-position on the floor, giving her a little more reach.

wrapping her whole arm around the arm rest, Myra slowly but surely pulled herself into the chair and got seated. Seated above the rest of the crew, she could now see that all of them were trying to get back into action, but were going through just as hard a struggle as Myra. Tapping the intercomm button on the chair, as she couldn't speak loud enough on her own, Myra began addressing the entirety of the crew. "Men and... women of the... Sentinel. This... is Admiral... Elysar. Get to your... controls, people... we can't die out here... for... the Alliance!" She stated, trying to be strong through the weakness that flooded her being.

This burst of strength and fervor for the Alliance appeared to be what gave these men the edge they needed. With several of them making it back to their seats, a few of the Navigational Crew members started the ship back moving again, the large Alliance Battleship defying the dark forces attempting to suffocate the Alliance's strength. After a few minutes, one of the crew looked back to Myra, his face pale and cold, nodding the affirmative that they were outside the gravity well. "Jump." Myra stated, a single command.

And the next minute, they were into Hyperspace. The day was lost, but not the war.