Log:Resistance: Bloody Hypothesis Pt 2
A small colony in the Ash Worlds is under heavy attack. The SFC is keeping an escape route open in orbit, but the Army needs to make sure the escape transports survive long enough to take off...
A plea for help had come to the Resistance through an unusual source: a remote colony on Cophrigin in the Ash Worlds had sent an appeal for help directly to one of the Jedi. If they are to be believed, an entire automated invasion force was descending upon them, backed by Lianna SDF cruisers. The colonists are attempting to evacuate, but are pinned behind their planetary shield, unable to flee and under heavy attack.
Resistance Intel had been hesitant, fearing a trap; they could find no reason for so large a force to assail such an insignificant target, and there was no First Order chatter hinting at any such operation. As well, Resistance fleet command could not release the handful of capital ships that safeguarded Naboo, meaning that any relief force would be limited to a small number of fighters, an army group with a few combat vehicles aboard the landing shuttle *Messenger*, and whatever private assets could be scraped together. Yet, the potential loss of life if the plea is sincere was too great to ignore, so here they are: a squad or troopers with a light BN7 hovertank, a few speeders, all the blaster packs they can carry, and instructions to blunt any ground attack on the colony, and hold off disaster until the colonists can escape. Assuming they survived landing, of course.
Just another day in the Resistance.
A short trip through hyperspace ends and shortly thereafter the troopers and tankers in the back of the shuttle jostle as the shields are hammered by laser blasts. A shout of panic from the cockpit does little to assuage any worries. "This is the Messenger, shields down to half strength, there are three on my tail- Fighters, please respond! ...Respond! We're being jammed-" It's a tense few minutes, but no further cannons strike the shuttle, and the Sentinel-class begins to rumble with the passage of atmosphere.
The intercom announces, <<General, we are setting down at the edge of the battlefield. There is an energy field protecting the colony, we canâ??t get any closer. Reading.. A unit of Scout Walkers advancing, supported by.. Six detachments of infantry.>>
Taking a long drag from his cigarillo, Sar walks toward one of the display panels and gives it a long look. The shuttle's not rocking under fire anymore, so there's at least one thing off of his mind. The fine scruff on his cheek is scratched at idly before he turns back to the gathered cadre of Resisters. "You guys have your briefing. If you ain't up to date on why we're here, well, there ain't much I can do for you." The tip of his cigarillo burns red hot again as he puffs on it. "Don't get killed. Make me proud."
Merek has settled into a ULAV which he acquired to use for the Resistance. It is painted in a nice matte black with New Republic's greens, a nice net of material placed upon it to cover the frame in colors that match the landscape is what seems to mask that from view though. He checks on the comlink while he settles upon the seat of the vehicle, his gear matching the seat in camouflage while he begins to power on all systems. <<Alright, Vornskr in position and prepared for launch,>> he says.
"That, is an awful lot of infantry," murmured Greeson Rais, the resident sniper, plastic man, and omfg-why-u-so-tall of the Resistance. Adorned in standard combat armor featuring his usual helmet/scarf/goggles combo, today his weapon of choice (alongside his service rifle of course) was a modified SoroSuub infantry killer, less 'Hello!' than the SX he'd used on godforsaken lava planet but with automated targeting and lighter weight, he might actually be able to hit something.
Yeah, he was still sore about all that.
"PVT Black, this is your first vehicular operation, remember to exercise caution," he advised over the comms to the kid whom he'd been giving advice to in his fussy and slightly bitchy way. "And I swear that if you charge off into the fray akin to a fired artillery round I shall be particularly cross." Ah there it was. He looked over his rifle once more, checked the charge, noted it was slightly below full, and was satisfied. Maybe today he'd redeem himself. Maybe.
Perhaps the oddest addition to the group is Dr. Aryn Cole. If they wondered where the unusual source was that called for help, they need only look her way. The Ash Worlds were home to the Alderaanian settlers; at least a sect of them. The worry that writes itself on the young blonde's face is made more noticeable with how she idly runs her fingers over the lightsaber gripped between her gloved hands.
Aryn Cole is not dressed as one of the standard infantry. She wears a protective suit that's armor plated and covered in a poncho of impossibly expensive shadowsilk. She at least has a helmet, of matching shade, and it's hooked to her belt waiting to be put on.
Elrych is looking out of a view port as they come out of Hyperspace and into what could only likely be described as a hot mess. "Ah Krif..." Says the Corellian Jedi as he's knocked around. He's missing his Sunglasses, "THey ant guna let me live this down..." He mentions under his breath, keeping to the hull as he moves after towards his BN7 he brought along. He looks to Sar, "Aye. Colnol. Best damn job I've ever had. Say, can you spare a gunner for the turrent on the Light Tank." He says this as he moves to jump in the cockpit and start it up. His Lightsaber stil dangled from his belt, mixing in with the rest of his custom Jedi Robes.
Angouri Dros, newly-returned Jedi student, remains unsure, lacking confidence - but she's here. She's finally gotten a new set of robes tailored to her small stature and tail, a welcome change after days of stumbling around in an over-large one that she borrowed, and a new stunsaber is clipped to her belt. The amaran is strapped into her seat, paw-like hands clutching the straps against her shoulders as they shudder and bump into the atmosphere - but maybe they'll all just die in transit. It can be quick, unlike a blaster wound to center mass or - she is shaken from her thoughts by another jostling, and the fledgling Jedi squeezes her eyes shut. Breathe. Just breathe. Her ears remain flat against her skull, but her grip on the straps loosen. Her expression relaxes. Angouri breathes. They'll be there soon.
Having fallen asleep, Yuun is back in action and he's currently well sleeping, as the ship comes out of hyperspace, he yawns and stretches a little bit, "Are we there yet?" He asks as he looks around seeing people starting to move around.
Having verified that her squadron leader manages a forced landing and is safe, FO3rd Nova Korell is turning back to make sure that Sentinel shuttle lands safely. Things got busy enough before, upstairs, that there was no chance to verify it had entered atmo safely. </Messenger/, this is Black Eleven. Respond, please. /Messenger/, do you copy? This is Black Eleven...>
Someone invited a Houk.
The hulking reptile in an even larger set of heavy power armor is wedged into a seat near the boarding ramp, humming idly to himself. At least until he spots a familiar face and booms cheerfully to Sar, "Ah, Nearly Champion: YOU ARE GREETED. Should not one of us fight on the other side? This does not seem fair."
Upon emerging into the greenish sunlight, they find themselves half shielded by a rocky outcropping, overlooking a desperate, and one-sided fight: A number of AT-ST armored walkers are advancing seemingly at random across devastated farmland, while under fire from a line of light defensive towers guarding the edge of the besieged city. Formations of infantry in blue armor advance as well, some supporting the walkers, others advancing to threaten the anti-vehicle turrets. Only once minor details can be studied does it become apparent that the AT-STs are being harassed by small formations of swift-moving speeder bikes. Upon the *Messenger* landing, a pair of the native speeder bikes disengage and accelerate to meet the Resistance. Both are uniformed in green and white, one carries a concussion missile launcher, the other an energy lance and carbine.
Overhead and out of sight, a desperate battle continues to rage with the short lived flare of scrapped durasteel burning up in the atmosphere. One more intact artifact the battle in orbit is a crippled X-wing, trailing fire as it falls to crash land behind a ridge of mountains.
Nova is answered, <<Black Eleven, this is Messenger. Setting down at coordinates Gamma-Seven-Nine point one one. Deploying complement.>>
Grinning at Grom, Sar once more takes a long drag from his cigarillo before dropping it to the floor of the shuttle and stomping it out. He gives the big lizard a slap on the shoulder. "You're greeted, too, Champ. And maybe next time."
"Last check, you good for nothings!" Sar says, sliding his hand-cannon out of its holster that's hanging diagonally across his lower back. "Ammo packs, HUDs, respirators, et cetera, et cetera," he barks, moving to the hydraulic door at the end of the shuttle. Sliding his helmet on and locking it into place, Sar reaches over and slaps the release switch next to the door. "Let's give 'em hell!"
Merek looks over to Gree while he calls from the ULAV, "Ya, I know what you're saying, you just tell me what you need me to do, I'll back you all up." With that, he looks then to Pek who is settling in as a gunner with the vehicle as well, "Alright," he shifts up his scarf which he keeps with him, placing his goggles upon him also so he can link up with the data on the computer, while he begins to drive them from the Messenger also.
Greeson Rais slapped the roof of the ULAV and internally considered how many baddies this bad boy could put down, then hopped off the vehicle as it rolled out. Gree's place was better suited in a tree, anyway. He was down the ramp next, rifle at the ready, helmet on, scarf up, looking at that outcropping. "Could not have picked a better dropoff," he said, pleased, as he scrambled to the top of the outcropping and fell prone. Oh look, visibility! And a target rich environment. Okay perhaps he wasn't doomed to abysmal failure. "Overwatch ready."
At the call to arms, or at least the call to disembark, Aryn rises from her seat, though not alone. She's accompanied by another armored soldier wearing an old trooper helmet with the reflective orange visor. She carries an old battle rifle and seems adept to using it well, despite her size (comparable to Aryn's.) This trooper wears a distinctive cape trimmed in silver, Alderaanian by origin. The name tape across her breastplate labels her as Kiko, and she's Aryn's personal retainer.
Aryn moves with Kiko to exit the craft. When the riders approach, Aryn waves a hand to the lancer motioning the officer closer. "Captain Iskender!" Aryn's voice has to be loud over the sounds of the engines from their vessel; the gust from the engines has unfastened her hair, sending it wildly. "We've come with as much support as we can muster! THIS-- is Colonel Yavok, he can coordinate the defense with you!-- Colonel, this is Captain Iskender, he's the commander for the Dragoons currently deployed to the field."
Aryn holds her lightsaber to one side, but it's not activated yet.
Elrych doesn't bug Sar again, he's got too much on his mind at the moment and a unit to command. The engine to his tank roars as it lifts up. He can hear on his BS comm unit, Nova calling. "Aye... Moonbeam. I got just the job for you. Meet me at the shuttle and hop on. Got me a nice daisy cutter you might find wanting." There is a look back towards Sar and there is... there is. GROM, Vhe's protector. "Oh Boy..." He starts to get anxious. "I gota go!" He presses the accelerator and drives down the ramp of the shuttle, parking his tank a moment and waiting for the gunner. He glances over to Angouri, forwning a bit. "You'll be alright, Angouri. You got this. Stick with Aryn or Yuun." He smiles then.
Breathe. Breathe. Angouri stills the shaking in her legs as they land, robotically undoes her restraints, and stands. She looks so small amongst the soldiers. The amaran looks up at Aryn, done out in some fancy armor, and flashes a nervous smile. "Just another day at th'office, eh?" At least she can stay by the doctor... Right? The little vulpine Jedi falls in line, tumbling out of the shuttle with the rest, her heart fluttering in that tiny chest; she leaves her stunsaber at her belt for now. Angouri is small, she can hide - she isn't ready to squander that advantage by making herself more of a target unless it is necessary. Breathe. She takes in their battlefield a sweeping glance, searching out the holes, the hills, the stumps, bits of wreckage - she can work with this. A nervous, sharp-toothed smile is flashed towards Elrych. "I'll try!" She gives a salute. "May th'Force be with ya, Mr. Cometburn."
As they land, Yuun stretches out even more so, and he hears the fighting, he frowns a little bit but he closes his eyes and steels himself for the time being. Watching as the others are getting ready and he rolls his shoulders and allows himself to fall feel the force. He opens his eyes slowly and begins to fall in line, "may the force be with all of us." He says as he takes his lightsaber into his hand but doesn't ignite it yet.
<Copy, /Messenger/. Eleven is inbound hot,> Nova replies, finding the shuttle's beacon on the sensors and setting an intercept course. The swift T-85 doesn't take long to get there, circling the landing site once and setting down behind a large boulder for cover. "Stay here, Jammer. Keep an eye on things."
The droid blats derisively. Like he's got anyplace better to go with all this /nature/ around! There aren't even any deck plates to roll on!
Dropping from the cockpit, she shoulders her carbine and covers the distance between boulder and shuttle in a quick jog. She's just in time to find Elrych and his vehicle leaving the ship. Good timing! Popping the top hatch on the vehicle, she quickly clambers down inside, dropping into the gunner's seat with commendable alacrity, considering she's never been inside one of these before. She connects her helmet's cable to the control console, hearing the distinct staticky *click* as she's admitted to the AFV's intercom system. "Heard you needed a gunner," she says simply to Elrych.
The turret weapons swivel up-down, left-right as she runs a quick check. Looks like this machine's ready to rock. "All green back here. Let's see if we can't entertain these First Order stooges."
"HA," Grom booms at Sar. "As you say, next time. Grom laughs again, now: HA." Powering up a monstrous rifle/small artillery piece, the Houk rises to his feet and Gromps his way down the ramp, blithely oblivious of Elrych. Surveying the battlefield, he muses aloud, "Hurm. Many puny mammals... Grom sees no-" then he spots the walkers. "Worthy foe! WORTHY FOE," the towering alien bellows, promptly rushing into weapons range.
Captain Iskender gives a hasty, but elegant dip of his lance to Aryn, before turning to face Sar. "Colonel Yavok," he greets with all the gravity a young man barely past twenty who is watching his home burn could muster. "This is their second push. We have five transports being loaded in the city, their aircraft cannot enter the shield perimeter, but walkers can, and their infantry are screening the armor. If they destroy the shield generator, orbital bombardment will annihilate us." Aside, as he turns a militarized Mobquet Overracer about, awaiting Sar's words and preparing to rejoin the fray, he asks Aryn, "Does my Lady require a horse?"
"Captain," Sar offers with a nod as Aryn introduces him to the man. His EE-3 hangs idly from his hand as he looks out over the devastation being wrought on this peaceful world. Listening to the Captain, Sar turns his face back to him and nods, "Understood. We'll take care of your home, Captain."
Waving his finger around in a rally signal, Sar looks to his group, "Top priority is the evacuation of those ships, so we're going to be zeroing in on those walkers to keep them off their backs. Infantry, you keep ground forces off our armor as best you can. As much as I wouldn't mind Merek exploding, that ULAV is very expensive."
"Let's get to work," is his dismissal as he moves to walk back up the ramp of the shuttle. A few moments pass before the air is filled with the roar of a modified repulsive engine and it's a very little time more before Sar's bounding over the ramp atop a very stripped-down Razalon FC-20 speeder bike. Ladies and gentlemen; The Bloodfin.
Jamming down hard on the clutch, Colonel Yavok peels away on his speeder bike, tearing straight toward the enemy, as Merek was instructed not to do by Greeson. The Bloodfin's low center of gravity allows for sharp, easy turns at speed; very useful when you're traveling over 400 miles an hour in and around small arms fire.
Sar's picking and choosing his targets well, sidling up next to enemy officers and capping them like they're so many 90s rappers.
Merek looks over to the viewport while he listens to Sar, with a nod when the orders are offered. With the shift of the gears the ULAV works to move with the infantry while he aims the laser cannons towards the walkers. The weapons strafe upon the ground before Sword 1 while the blaster on the back is adjusted to take a shot upon it as well, managing to strike while Pek works the weapons as well.
The bright, obnoxious, and frankly extremely useful targeting computer of the SoroSuub EZ-Snap Sniper Rifle burst to life in a way that not only highlighted exactly where the unit's sharpshooter was perched, not a big deal since he was right near the landing craft, but also made it far, far easier to line up his shots. So, trusting in the ineffable will of the targeting computer, he lased up one of the officers of the pack and fired.
The high-speed high-power bolt tore through the air and reduced a nearby bush to a floating cloud of leaves, twigs, and shame. Though it wasn't visible, Gree's face morphed into an expression of "...seriously?" Is that what this was about? Was he forever cursed to miss all his shots just like DaShazwin O'Vil at the free throw line?!
Aryn glances down at Angouri and tries to offer a reassuring smile. "It's something like that." From the sound of the Doctor's voice, she seems overwhelmed with emotion or perhaps it's just the gravity of the entire situation. At being addressed by the Captain, Aryn steps ahead of Angouri, nodding. "Aye."
Aryn fits her helmet over her head, the old trooper helm painted in a flat-black with a blue visor. When the helmet is in place, she triggers the comm unit alive, then climbs atop the overrace behind Captain Iskender. Fitting one booted foot into a stirrup, then her other, she settled. Aryn wraps one arm around the Captain's stomach to anchor herself then extends her other arm so that the mysterious hilt is held safely away.
With a subtle press of her thumb, the lightsaber extended to its full 1.2m length of sapphire blue. The soft humming noise that emitted from the weapon only grew in volume the harder it moved, thus it was near quiet now with the backdrop of battle ahead. Holding the weapon to her side, she turns her helmeted head and speaks to the Captain. <"To battle, my Lord.">
Off they ride, Aryn's bright blade rising only to smack laser bolts back to their points of origin.
Elrych smiles as Nova hops into the gunners seat on his BN7. "There you are, damn you look good with that gun. I should take some promotional pictures. Alright... here we go. Focus on the infantry but you can try to hit those AT/STs... I'm going to keep us safe." He punches the accelerator and the Light Tank is off at it's top speed. He hears through the comms, target the officers. Picking on out, he reaches out with the force. The trooper rises, then Elrych TOSSES his whole body against that of one of the AT/STs. It lands like a bug on a wind shield. He hopes they had wipers. BONK.
The amaran gives a final nod to Elrych as Nova hops into his gunner's compartment, and they're soon to be lost from sight. With another shaky breath, Angouri looks up at Aryn. attempting to return the smile, but her own is pained and anxious. Watching the doctor mount up and speed away, the young jedi tries not to focus on the coppery scent of blood on the wind. It's hard to focus on anything else... But she has some grievances with the First Order that need airing. Angouri tries to breath through the fear and frustration and the /smell/, and focus on that nugget of serenity and understanding that /supposedly/ exists deep down, as she starts running. She's having some trouble finding it. The battlefield is a choatic amalgamation of death and motion and that /smell/ - she prides herself on a keen mind, but the panic and nerves of battle tangle her head too much. Her first target is a lone trooper, but as she reaches out, an explosion behind her shakes the amaran from her feet. Her grip is lost, and she merely tosses the trooper, hardly doing the damage she meant to.
"Alright, I will try to keep those troopers off you all." He says to the group. They had a job to do and now that he's fully healed, Yuun had work to do. He moves out of the ULAV and rushes along the battlefield. Using wreckage and the terrain to mask his movements and as he did eh finds a place to hold up, seeing the troopers move into position, he prepares, his lightsaber is grip in his hand lightly, but he is ready.
<General, something's odd with those walkers. Why are they chasing speeder bikes? They can't catch them. Why do they want them out of the way when they have more important targets?> Nova wonders aloud over the com net.
Still, there are more important things to be done, like wiping out some of those walkers. Nova sets her sights on the nearest of the AT-STs, aiming for that vulnerable spot that links the cockpit with the actuator module that moves the legs.
Aiming and hitting are two different things, though. "Can you keep us evasive? I doubt he'll forget that..."
The sudden attack from an unexpected zone stalls the movement of one detachment of blue-armored troopers. As a variety of weapons converge on Sword 1, the best Walker comes out nearly unscathed, firing weapons in all directions. Captain Iskender and Aryn scream past it, the Jedi deflecting bolts and the overracer's cannon lightly damaging one leg. Sword 3 is less fortunate, taking heavy damage from a defensive tower, one crewman falling to the ground with a scream, one arm afire. Concussion grenades damage one of the other dragoons, whose speeder bike whines with rising intensity, before crashing to the grey-green ground in a crashing roll.
The line of towers might be enough to hold.. or so it seems.
First visible only to the keenest of eyes, descending from high orbit are a quartet of large starfighters unknown to all but a few, fast moving and vaguely resembling an elongated TIE bomber. Rachel of the four streaks at one of the colony's perimeter towers, annihilating both vessel and target in a tremendous eruption of fire and plasma.
Even Grom, in the course of his ill advised charge at a walker, notices the explosion, while failing to notice he's been shot in one arm. "OH, so little mammals wish to compare explosions?? SO BE IT." The Houk forgoes his rifle and rummages around for something else, while still lumbering toward an AT ST.
Sar kicks one of the sides of his bike out, the Bloodfin goes into a very easily controlled slide as it ducks the Colonel out of the way of an incoming heavy bolt fired from a nearby cannon. Punching the repulsor back into action, Sar rights the bike and levels his blaster pistol once more, steadying his arm on the handlebars.
His luck runs out, however, once the infantry get their bearings and begin returning fire, as well. One well-placed bolt digs into Sar's forearm and sends him speeding out of control. Luckily, he's got the presence of mind to slow down once he's hit, but it's a bit of an over-correction as the velocity dump leaves him with much less control of the vehicle specifically designed to go real real fast. And so the bike once more ends up on its side, leaving Sar to tumble off of it and roll no short distance until he slides to a halt.
"Hell..." is all the man manages to groan out in response as he moves to crawl back up to his feet so that he may more easily limp his way to the cover of the downed bike. Flopping down near it, Sar lifts his blaster again and lets bolts sail, two of them digging into enemies officers; one of them killing.
Merek watches on while the fight keeps on, then he begins to maneuver while the blaster bolts from the Sword 1 begin to light up on the ground before the ULAV. The vehicle shifts to take a position, while he lines up his sights on the target computer, with fingers back on triggers the laser cannons strike into an AT-ST's armor, meanwhile it looks like Pek doesn't manage his shot. The ULAV does what it is supposed to, which is distract the foe so that people can escape also.
Well this wouldn't do. See, some people elsewhere were having fun and getting into the fray and here was Greeson Rais, the galaxy's worst sharpshooter, having not exactly the best day. He'd fired four shots in the past week and missed all of them! Range time was spent, practice was had, and nothing was gained! Maybe he needed tea. "I need some tea," he said. But first, headshots.
It wasn't a headshot, but the long bolt from the sniper rifle went in through the chest and out through the back and the poor trooper, already heartless, could now literally take the claim. YES! STREAK BROKEN! Choke on that, you... you... bastard! "You might want to switch condiments," Gree said, pithy, and fussy, and in that posh-backwater accent of his, "because that weaksauce isn't working." He even had a one liner ready, that's how dramatically his mood turned!
Aryn is thankful for the ear protection provided by her helmet. Were it not in place, her ears would likely be bleeding, and she in need of medical attention. Despite the noise and absolute chaos of riding through battle, Aryn's mind is upon their objectives; stop the walkers and tie up infantry. <"Captain, bring me close to one walker! I believe I can remove its leg!">
She doesn't need to hear him acknowledge because she can see Ban altering his course to comply with her order. Preparing for what's to come, Aryn takes a deep breath of filtered air and smacks down an errant bolt with a practiced wave of her lightsaber.
Their advance is marked by the blue blade of a lightsaber, even through the dust the glow is distinctive. Ban brings her as close as she needs, and she reaches out screaming! The blade makes the appropriate connection, and with the ease only a lightsaber can bring, it cuts through the metal and appends the foot from the walker completely!
They do not stick around for its toppling frame, but Aryn turns back to watch it fall before being enveloped in dust and fire. <<"One walker down, guys. Hang in there!">> Aryn sounds out of breath, but in truth she was exhilarated by the battle. She shifts closer to Ban, resituating herself in the seat to return to defense.
"You're right!" Elrych says to Nova as he turns hard once he can feel the nagging at him in the force that something is about to goo... BOOM. He narrowly escapes the onslaught unscratched. "That was close... too close!" He shouts, blue eyes glancing back to the battle. There's an officer left. He reaches out once more with the force, picking the trooper up and flinging him. It's not enough to kill but he expects that it wasn't a great time to be that guy. He notices Aryn's trick and raises his brows. An Idea to keep in mind for later. Right now... it's about keeping this vehicle operational and evasive.
Angouri is struggling to retain her grasp on serenity, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she slogs through the chaos of battle, keeping as hidden as possible. It's behind one such lump of terrain that she can be found now, her fur streaked with ash and grime - she hasn't made much of a move against the enemy, but she is small and continues to slink her way ahead. Elrych told her to stick by Yuun or Aryn, and she's lost sight of them both - she's on her own. That's okay. This is fine. Breathe.
Ango regains a sudden lock on Aryn when a blue streak severs the leg of one of the walkers, and she watches with her muzzle slightly parted as it goes crashing to the ground. "Damn." She blinks, and spins with a smile onto an advancing trooper. "No y'don't." She decides, and waves her hand - the ground breaks apart as she does, slamming into one of the troopers in a rain of dirt, rock, and twisted, broken metal from the battle. He doesn't get back up. She's getting the hang of this! Keep moving - the amaran scampers from her point of cover, dropping to all fours to make haste to the next hiding spot.
Yuun peeked around and one group of enemy troopers were harassing one of the groups they were here to rescue but this group was barely holding it together. His mind made up, he leaves over the wreckage and as he does Yuun takes off towards the enemy troopers, at the last moment, his blade springs to life with a snap-hiss. His movements are fast and precise, there isn't much wasted motion, his ocean blue lightsaber blade easily seen denoting his location, still the three troopers fall to the blade, he doesn't say anything as he rushes the rest of the remaining enemy units bringing his blade up to guard.
Nova tries again on a different walker, but the machine somehow bends space and time to be out of the way. It's like some horrible, invisible mechanism is responsible for cause and effect. That, or the targeting computer needs recalibration. Nova has a distinct feeling it's the former, as the targeting computer seems fine.
Despite the immolation of the colony's defensive towers, and the mass cheer that is raised among the attackers, fate swings firmly against them. The first detachment of troopers- absent their commander- hunker down behind the wreckage of the fallen Sword 1 walker. Their return fire grows increasingly erratic. Sword 2 turns to bring its unscathed armaments to bear on the lighter Resistance vehicles, but.. Houk happens.
Having activated a THERMAL DETONATOR, Grom bellows, "THE KING OF FALE US UPON YOU," and hurls the miniaturized thermonuclear device high and far enough to detonate just above Sword 2, causing viewscreens to briefly dim, and unshielded eyes to avert for a moment, in which the toppling wreck of the scout walker topples over, leaving 19 men of the second detachment crushed or blasted. Absent their own officer, the survivors understandably break, and begin retreat. While the majority of the attacking infantry remain, this has the feel of a turning point. Barely noticing that he has been shot a second time, the Houk shouts, "GROM WINS."
<<They're turning tail,>> Sar calls through the comms as he watches the enemies shatter under the weight of their heavy and consistent losses. Sar pushes himself up off of the ground with a grunt and plucks up his pistol. Pulling the sleeve of his jacket down over his right hand, he uses it to steady the barrel of his carbine and fires four shots in quick succession. The heavy carbine barks and shakes with each report, but only two bolts manage to hit their mark. <<Focus all fire on those walkers. Let them retreat.>>
The blaster fire from troopers as well as the walkers places carbon scoring upon the ULAV, while Merek begins to shift the gears of the vehicle so he can maneuver into a position to fire on the walker which is still about, laser cannons as well as the blaster cannon shooting, the lasers striking the walker while he comlinks, <<Suppressing the Sword, if someone could give it a finish,>> he says.
"<<Acknowledged,>>" was happy sniper man Greeson's response to Sar's orders. At least walkers were big targets, but the EZ-Snap was anti-personnel. He'd left his holy-sithspit-you're-compensating gun at home. "<<Shall we sheathe it, then?>>" That was to PVT Black. He was really on point with the witty quips, at least, and didn't suppress a little "haw haw haw" of obnoxiousness. "Sword, really," he muttered, lining up the scope and the targeting computer to this tiny little gap. "Who comes up with these names?"
A superheated beam of death tore through the air with a deafening crack as it ionized atmosphere into ozone. The front viewport on the walker, on an awkward angle to Gree, had only presented its core weakness for a moment. That moment was enough for said superheated beam of death to go in one eye and out the other. Of course, considering the sheer anatomical impossibility of such an event, it would need to be two eyes. And it was. Into the eye of the walker, and out through the eye of the pilot. That poor sap really needed to see an optometrist because the goggles, they do nothing! Death was had, and the walker, suddenly deprived of its support, started to tumble. The copilot, the poor bloke who had to deal with the sudden onset trauma of having his best mate's head forcibly removed from his neck, was too distracted by OH GOD OH GOD I'M GONNA DIE to change his fate in any way. The walker fell with a sickening crunch. "<<Consider his sword sheathed. Haw haw haw.>>"
Aryn has to tilt her face down when the sudden, massive explosion shorts out the her comms and eliminates all sound for the unnerving ringing of deaf silence. A massive explosion consumes the field of battle, sending a massive circular wave of dust and small bits of debris everywhere. The distinctive passing of blaster bolts color the dust and smoke all manner of shades, but now only shadows of people shift through the chaos as smoke and fire erupt.
Aryn's hearing returns after several moments, and she looks up over Lord Ban's shoulder to see them circling the field to survey what was left standing. Aryn witnesses a storm of laser fire catching the remaining walker before one finds purchase inside the operator's chamber and wreaks havoc, imploding into a brilliant display of destruction. Coming to a brief halt, Aryn points at the divisions in full retreat and laughs. <"Captain, they're beginning to lose heart. Take us back to the line, sir, and we'll hold from there."> Their speeder begins to move, and Aryn deflects a trio of blaster fire, but she's successful in sending one back while the others sink harmlessly into the dirt.
"You know what we're missing, Moonbeam?" Elrych says as he keeps driving, his shifting hand reaching for something on the dash. "Some tunes. Some sweet kriffin' tunes." What else would Elrych do than spend money putting a stereo system in his tank. A fast paced tune starts to play loudly. Elrych beats his hand on the steering mechanism to the beat, bobbing his head, singing along as he cruises along. Everyone within a good distance can hear it. It's utterly rediculous but it is very very Elrych. "Oh... Yeah... BAAABAY!" Singing along, he turns hard as the blaster fire from Sword Three comes. "Give it another Shot, Moonbeam!" The tank kicks up dust and dirt, the music echoing from the tank. It might draw a couple stares. As the explosion happens though, and the engine wines in protest, the scopes flicking with the EMP burst. Elrych looks once the innitial flash has past, starring towards the massive mushroom cloud "... Nice..." A wild grin is given and the fact he doesn't have his sunglasses detracts from the moment only slightly. He doesn't concentrate much, but when the information that the enemy was retreating comes, Elrych finds some loose rock and picks them up with the force, tossing them indiscriminatly towards a lump of troopers. As the last walker falls, he says to Nova, "Rip into their Lines, Moonbeam!"
And there's Yuun - the vulpine Jedi is happy to see another familiar lightsaber rip through the curtain of dust and distance, but her nerves at being so far from the others don't lessen. These are the thoughts clouding her mind when the world is thrust into concussive chaos. Angouri throws herself aside as a thermal detonator rips into a walker and sends troopers around it flying. She wasn't close enough to be harmed by the explosion, but she's close enough to feel its heat, to feel the ground buck underneath her. Her large, sensitive ears ring, throwing the battle into (an admittedly more tolerable) quiet, distant roar - but it hurts her head. She does not like battle, she is not thrilled - she's terrified and running on instinct alone. Another distant 'boom' - she's scared. She wants to go home - she wants to go /home/. Angouri shouts as she wrenches a chunk of ruined leg from a downed walker and flings it several meters across the field. It misses the troopers she was aiming for, instead gouging a trench through dirt. Yuun is doing all that he can to help the people they came to save, they had to beat back the First Order. Yuun is moving fast, keeping the pressure up on the enemy troopers, having been able to deflect blaster bolts or move before they were even aimed at him. Yuun is calm and he knows that anything can happen so he moves so that way he can keep their ULAV in sight and assist it if need be, at the same time, he leaps into the air and with a flourish his lightsaber swings down in a crescent arc, cutting through plastiod armor and flesh as he cleaves through three troopers in one swing.
With no walkers left to shoot at, the tank can now lend its support to the infantry-smashing efforts. Nova targets the mass of infantry that's closest. It's tricky shooting: Despite all the firing they're doing, the troops have had the sense to get into cover. The bolt finds them anyway, plunging into the bottom of a shell crater and blowing figures into the air. Finally! After the physics hijinks of earlier, making a meaningful contribution to this fight is a moral victory for Nova. "Let's see if we can get a shot against some of the others. We're all turning this battle around!"
Captain Iskender nods once to Aryn, bringing the military speeder bike sharply around with the remaining nine other dragoons. The Santhe attack has been well and truly blunted, with the enemy armor in ruins and a third of their infantry in full retreat, and the remainder no doubt wary of their chances against the tanks and hovercraft of the Resistance. The Shield generator still stands intact, and an unlikely victory appears within grasp.
It is then dozen unusual TIE fighters approach the besieged city. Solar panels are narrow and forward-pointed as they descend low to the ground on approach as they streak toward the city.
Captain Iskender voices to Aryn as the speeder bike returns to friendly lines, <<Spacecraft cannot bypass the shields, they're too late. By now, the escape craft will be ready by now; we've won->>
Hovering just above the grey-green ground, the twelve unfamiliar TIEs begin to change. Solar panels on robotic pivots rotate until they are angled down, beneath the eyeball cockpit, converting the squadron of TIE Chimeras into a dozen hovertanks.
<<Looks like mission is complete, I am going to lay in some suppressing while we make our way back to Messenger,>> Merek offers on the comlink while he begins to shift those gears on the ULAV. The vehicle shifts to back up while he begins to set the triggers with aiming assistance from the computer. He then begins to light them up with the Private Pek also doing so.
With that, when all of the others are back to the ship, he turns about to drive onto the transport while he calls from the vehicle, "You all get into the ship, move it!" Back where he was shooting is a field of the carbon scorings upon armor of the troopers they were fighting, while they begin to break from formation also.
"<<Rally back, please, our task here is done,>>" advised the fiery-haired sniper as he traversed the weapon towards the next batch of assailants. The ground team had done their job, and so had Greeson Rais. "<<Incoming armour,>>" that pronunciation again, and he lined the sights up on the smack bang middle of the TIE cockpit and squeezed the trigger.
Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening, ripped through the air and shattered the viewport of the lead TIE Tank, frying the head of the pilot. Or at least where the head of the pilot WOULD have been. The tank rolled (floated?) on and Gree was puzzled. "<<Armour is automated, no pilot. Time to go.>>" The obnoxious targeting computer winked off and the bipod was snapped up as Gree shuffled backwards towards the nearby shuttle. "And I certainly hope our air support can keep these things from taking off and taking out the transports!" he mused, louder than he expected, as he clambered to his feet and, being the closest, was the first to get aboard.
<"Captain, over there.. one of mine!"> Aryn points out, utilizing the HUD IFF signature to locate the small Jedi named Angouri. A simple nod from Ban, and their string of Dragoons follow along. <<"Yuun, Angouri, Grom.. get on the speeders and let's get out of here. We're closing in on Angouri's position.">>
The speeders arrive and Aryn has to pause long enough to bat down another trio of blaster shots that come too close. Turning toward Angouri, the Doctor extends a free gloved hand to pull her on board. <"Good work! Now let's get out of here!"> A motion with the lightsaber triggers their retreat. The last of the Dragoons are bringing up the rear ensuring those that live are acquired and carried from the field.
<<"We're coming in quick! Everyone, load up!">>
Elrych brings the tank to a stop as the two detatments starts to falter, his eyes though are on the TIE Chimeras. "Your choice Nova. Hit the rest of these lines and give the ships time to take off. Or hit those incomming pieces of junk." He then looks back to the troppers still attacking the city. He reaches out with the force, picking up piece of scrap and rock, sending them hurdling towards the detatchment. Lucky for them non actually impact but it has to be a harrowing expeiance. "We need to get back to the shuttle soon, before those Chimera's get here!" Good question from the sniper though, where was Air Support? Maybe they weren't going so hot up there. He listens to the order to retreat and pushes the accelerator forward, his music blaring as a new track hits. "Awww yeah...." As Nova scored her hits, he cheers. "Hell yeah, Moonbeam. Rekkk that drek up. Damn... I can't believe you don't have a hot date every night!"
Are they winning? It looks like they are winning, but Angouri Dros stopped caring about victory the moment she stepped off the transport: she just wants to go home. Angouri is running back towards the shuttle, her arms thrown up over her head; she flinches as an explosion at the bottom of a crater sends bodies flying up to her left. She hates this - she hates it so much - why does it have to be so /loud/? The scream of approaching TIE fighters is enough for her - the tiny jedi drops to all fours and runs for all she's worth, and it still feels so slow amidst the machines.
So this is how it ends for Angouri Dros - she goes out as roadkill on a battlefield. How fitting. She can hear a speeder growing closer, can feel a presence rapidly approaching with it - she's still running on all fours when the speeder pulls up alongside her, blaster fire deflecting over her head. "Dr. Cole!" She breaths out a sigh of relief, and latches onto the extended hand, and once she's safely deposited on the speeder, tiny, vulpine arms clutch around Aryn's middle; small, furry face buried against unyielding armor. She wants to go home. She's ready to go home.
"Lucky in combat, unlucky in love... and that's if the universe thinks I'm lucky in combat," Nova replies, sighing.
Still, this fight's not over. "Something tells me we'd better slow those freaky TIEs down," she says, seeing some of them becoming /tanks/, of all things. And a quick shot does slow one down, making it spew smoke from obvious internal damage. "Guess that'll have to do it for making a contribution to this battle. We'd better head for the shuttle or we'll get left!"
Yuun hears Aryn call to come back, he sees the troopers breaking to retreat, <<Copy that.>> he says into his comm. The dark skinned Courscanti Jedi had been harrying teh troopers, but he sees one of the downed speeders. He quickly picked up one of the speeder bikes and he jumps on, riding off quickly to the others.
The line of Chimera reach the edge of the settlement's energy field and pass through it, promptly opening fire with starship grade laser cannons, and wreaking terrible havoc on the abandoned city. By the time the five po serous bulk freighters have taken to the sky, the tanks have carved their way to the generators, and the profound *crack* of the facility's detonation is audible for a dozen kilometers. Yet the colonists are away, the Army is hastily loading up aboard their Sentinel-class shuttle, and as they lift off, the pilot reports, "Fight in orbit isn't going well, but we'll have some cover. Hope you lot didn't use up ALL your good luck.
Among the last to board, the young Captain watches out the back viewport, as smoke and flame rise from the empty city.