(OOC: The time it would take to do what you said you did is immense. Hence I’m posting as if you are in the motions of your attack, rather than after it. Namely because it wouldn’t be realistic for me to accept it over one post. )

Deep inside the Yunos Cruiser.

Lupercus’ spirits seemed to his apprentice to be increasing with every step he made towards the enemy. They had met only a few Azguard on their way towards their objective, and they had proved easy sport. And although Lupercus was enjoying himself, as he always did, he was waiting for something. He wasn’t sure what though. All he knew was that when the time came, this cruiser would be the Empires property. An Azguard appeared up ahead, stopping in momentary confusion as it saw the pair of humanoids running towards him. That was all the time Lupercus needed, not stopping to even pause watch as he force choked the Azguard, its neck snapping so loudly that Lupercus could hear it, even though he was a hundred metres down the hall by the time it snapped. Suddenly, he knew.



Yunos Cruiser, Bridge.

The Azguard bridge was in chaos as the battle continued. Their fighter support numbers had been dropping consistantly since the GCs ad hoc start to their war against the Empire, and their tacticians knew it. They were outnumbered. They were outclassed. All in all, they were pretty much out done.

And in all that chaos it wasn’t hard to miss the small metal ball, no bigger than a fist, as it zipped into the room…



Yunos Cruiser, Engine/Reactor Room.

The Engineers were working just as hard in the engine room when another ball flew in, once again unnoticed. They were bustling around, desperately trying to find ways to pull shield power out of nowhere. Already the ship was straining as it took the brunt of the Imperial Navy. And now it would take another hit, this time from a slightly more subversive enemy.



It was time, but he only had to hold out just a little bit longer. He and Silus were almost there. The running continued for a few moments before they emerged into a small station. It was a relatively insignificant one, but it ran a key feature of the spacecraft.

Life support.

There were 3 Azguard before the pair of Sith, and for that Lupercus was thankful.

More for later!

As soon as they entered the room, that was the time. Suddenly, the metal balls in both rooms fell to the ground with a clang. Most didn’t noticed, but those who did and who knew what they were looking at knew they were @#%$.

Instantly a massive wash of Ion energy flooded the ship. For 200m around the epicentre of each explosion, the ship stopped working. Banks of turbolasers shut down all around the affected areas. The lighting flickered as the power dropped and the pair lept out, quickly dispatching the two guards. Outside, more turbolasers started cutting out. Then slowly the port turbolasers just stopped. Then the starboard ones. Then the bow and stern. The ship had lost all power. The hand of one man had crippled the GC command ship.

But he wasn’t done yet…

Swinging the heavy compressed gas cylinder from his back, Lupercus quickly attached it to the life support systems. They were still offline as the ship still came to terms with its impotence, allowing Lupercus to attach the cylinder without any fuss or mess. Within moments the life support systems of the Yunos were back in operation. Then again, that was about it as the ship drifted, immediately breaking its charge formation in front of the GC fleet to begin to drift as its trajectory took it above the planet.

In a moment of nerves as the gas filtered through the ship, Lupercus checked his arm, happy to find the small catheter still attached to his arm, filled with precious Gas Binder that would keep Lupercus safe even if his respirator failed. Smiling, Lupercus sent word to his comrades. The battle was turning.

RSD Ravager, Corellian Anvil battleline.

“Lord Lupercus has crippled the command vessel. Already our sensors should read it as off course.”

Admiral Pitta watched with glee as the GC fleet rounded to move in on his battleline. Pitta was happy to let them oblige as his still functioning skirmish screen remained, completely untouched by the desultory level of fire coming from the GC attack. Then he saw the Yunos cruiser waver slightly as the effects of the Ion Pulse Bombs became apparent. On board, Pitta knew the Azguards would already be dying, their lungs dry of oxygen as the gases flowed freely around their ship.

Well, not their ship for much longer!

The GC fleet seemed to advance with more urgency now, but their formation was tight, allowing the surrounding ships to pound the GC ships as they drew near. Danetta nodded to his sith compatriot, ordering the intervention of the Lorell Gunships. They were one of the most valuable ships in the Hapan inventory, and as usual, Lupercus had procured himself of some. With a speed well above that of its lumbering enemies the gunships opened fire, their disposable Heavy Rocket Octects spreading havoc amongst the closely packed starships. Every ship in the Anvil was involved now, Admiral Pitta actually laughing as the first torrent of laser fire licked the embattled GC fleet.

“Sir, shield readings report that the majority of the attacking fleet is down to auxiliary shields, or close to. “

Pitta did not reply to the ensign, instead whispering to the Sith by his side.

“Have all our non-ion and projectile weapons target the ships with shields remaining. All ions to focus on finishing off their Viscounts. Plus any Mag-Pulse launchers we have too, I want some real trophies for this.”

The sith nodded, the order flowing to the rest of the fleet the second it was relayed. The Sith mind meld was better than any in Imperial High Command could of hoped. And not just amongst the cruisers. Already the GC starfighter corps had been decimated, poor management allowing over 65% of them to be destroyed without any significant damage to the Empire. And now they streaked in, completely ignoring the Imperial fighters on their tails while attempting to make a run on the Imperial Anvil. They tried, oh did they try to avoid the many laser turrets that stood between them and the Ravager, but it was all for nought. They were given an impossible task, trying to maneuver between their own tightly packed ships, avoid enemy laser turrets, avoid enemy fighters and then still having to make an attack run on one of the most feared ships in the galaxy.

Needless to say, the GC fighters were destroyed piecemeal, very few surviving to actually make the attack run against the Ravager. Those who did fell prey to the 100+ banks of anti-starfighter lasers aboard the Reign. The move lacked brains, a large portion of the GCs strength cast away for no strategic or tactical gain. Interestingly, the Sith in control of the fighters were intreged by the spacetrooper/starfighter design, disabling a number of the combat suits before destroying the rest of the slowest moving GC craft.

As the run ended the Anvil opened fire again, this time a large number of mag-pulse missiles amongst the volley. They lead their rocket counterparts by about 10 metres, enough for them to cause the necessary effect.

The Mag-Pulse missiles did their job perfectly, their explosions marking a massive drop in shields from all affected ships. It was shields they could not afford to lose. And on the back of that the bulk of the rockets then struck, a number of explosions echoing out of the GC fleet as it charged towards the RSD.

“Sir, we are starting to take hits. They are sporadic, but it looks to be picking up. Soon our loss rate will surpass our recharge.”

The last statement meant nothing really. It simply meant that soon the massive Reign would begin to lose shields. Hell, it had enough of them anyway.”

“Order all ships in the battle line to transfer all power from engines to shields. We aren’t doing anything movement wise, its senseless not to use them…”

He paused now, immediately remembering something as the GC fleet drew near.

“The trash…

Quickly, have all tractor beams begin their work.”

It took a moment, but as the GC fleet approached they could see the massive wall of trash that floated above the battle line suddenly propel forward, towards them. Already chunks of metal the size of AT-ATs drifted towards the GC column as well as more mundane items like litter and some sewage. The inclusion of sewage in the mix had been Pittas idea, but one that was readily endorsed by Corellias Governor. The litter, as well as the continuing flood of Imperial laser fire, streaked down on the tightly packed terrorist forces, slamming into unshielded and shielded ships without prejudice. The Coalition was up @#%$ creek, and their paddle was long gone.

Summary:

GC Fleet charging through Anvils skirmish line to reach the battle line. Faster elements of the GC fleet are engaged by the BL.

GC Starfighter Corps crippled, the majority of its fighters destroyed or scattered to the 4 winds. (A tip in future, strategy wise, try to think of things realistically, constantly retasking your fighters increases stress and workload on pilots, leading to increasing pilot error and decreasing pilot performance, that’s one of the many contributing factors to you losing most of your fighters. I’ll leave it up to your own discretion, but the suits are gone as would the strike fighters (bombers) since they are just as slow.)

GC Fleet sheilds entirely stripped now.

Yunos cruiser disabled, bridge knocked out, reactor disabled.

Big attackin column of GC being swarmed by Imperial Cappies on all sides and being bombarded with bigass chunks of garbage.

Ravager Sheilds reduced to 60%, all energy devoted to weapons and shields (recharge rate increases by 1/3)

Skirmish Line hounding the GCs flanks and stern. Sheilds at 40% and rising.

Battle Line pounding GC ships as they approach (killing zone). Sheilds at 100% and stable.

Reserve Line engaging with the GC fleet with the BL, octects fired, Shields at 100% and stable.

Somewhere inside the Viscount Star Defender

He stopped, holding up a hand to cease the movement of the soldiers following him. In the chaos of the battle, they had not yet encountered much of anything. Most of the Coalition soldiers were stretched to thin to control the massive warship they had produced.

It was apparent to the operative that the GC did not have enough men to crew their ships. And that would work to their advantadge.

The two crewers who had caught Ton's attention (or rather, whose loud talk had caught his attention) appeared ahead of the group, and stopped. They were frozen temporarily by the appearence of the ISS agent and his escort of towering black droid soldiers.

That was all the time Ton nodded. Without a thought, he fired four shots with his blaster, the blue stun rings dropping both bodies to the cold, metal floor. A blaster shot would have been heard for five hunred meters; the stun shot was barely heard by the two.

The looks of surprise on their faces remained as the collapsed.

Ton rushed forward, still covering the two with his blaster, then took a small needle from his belt and inserted it, one by one, into the men. The serom would kill them - how painful it was Ton did know, nor did he have any wish to know.

"Let's go." He said, motioning to the Dark Troopers.



Star Defender - Engine/Reactor Room

The ship's engineers could hardly have failed to hear the clanging footsteps of a half a dozen of the Empire's Dark Trooper droids.

But the barricaded blast door did little to stop the advance, trooper 74 simply targetted it with his swarm missiles and blew it down, leaving a gaping hole in its place.

The droids entered the room, their supeior targetting systems striking the alien engineers but leaving the precious equipment unharmed. There was no battle in the room; the engineers were not warriors, and even trained and battle-hardened warriors could not have stopped the Dark Troopers now.

With the last of the engineers dead, the Imperial Corps of Engineers, who had been following at a distance so as not to be struck down, were brought into the room. They went immediatly to the reactor control system, and began to do their part.



Star Defender - Bridge


Ton's group made it to the bridge at about the same time as the other group made it to the reactor room. That was, of course, had they had planned it. One of the Dark Troopers blew the door down, and the group entered the room, already firing their weapons at the GC commanders. The vessel's Captain was struck down by a laser blast, throwing him against the transparisteel viewport.

There was no contest. The few guards who managed to reach for their blasters and even fire, saw their shots bounce harmlessly off the Droids' heavy armour. And then they saw nothing, as one of the machines killed them.

With the bridge secure, the engineers emerged and set themselves around the various concoles, ignoring the recently-deceased aliens who had crewed them only moments before.

Ton smiled thinly. There was only one thing left to do. He set off from the bridge at a jog, two soldiers (they had removed themselves from the Dark Trooper suits) following. The third group would be in position, too.



Star Defender - Life Support

Ton arrived to find the door already blasted in, and the sound of blaster fire evident. Obviously, the last team had already arrived.

He nodded to the leader of the group, and placed the respirator over his mouth. All over the ship, Imperial engineers and soldiers would be doing likewise. The soldiers within the Dark Troopers were protected by the droids themselves, but they too placed the respirators over their mouths. The Empire was always prepared.

Without a word, Ton placed the canister of Null-gas into the life support intake, and activated it. Within minutes, the gas was seeping thuought the vessel. And its alien crewers would be dead.

Telan Desaria's Last Post put into Context/correct rp order


*




Corellian System

Command Vessel – Imperial 1st Destroyer Squadron

On Course: Five kilometers below the Battle Plane


“ Admiral, all communications have been jammed. We are reading a total blackout on extra-vessel abilities.”


Baron Telan Desaria, Kuati noble and Imperial flag officer, pursed his lips. Many eyes held him in their gaze, he and he alone able to being any pretense of order from an already chaotic situation. Battles were often chaotic affairs, thus Corellia was no different. A government of aliens and humanoid infidels had chosen to test their strength against the Empire, that was different: most other species new the Empire’s power and dared not stand before it.


“ Senior Lieutenant Reymann: find a way through that jamming net.”


An officer of thirty years’ age stood straight from the two consoles over which he hovered and clicked his heels at attention. The two technicians he lorded over as Chief Communications Officer continued their duties, unabated. “ Aye sir!”


The Admiral of the Fleet gave a stately nod from his command chair. There was little he could do to avoid the arrogant demeanor that had been ingrained into his psyche since he was but a boy. The social indoctrination underwent by members of gentry was difficult to overcome, though it managed to rear its head now and again. He had more than earned the right to act haughtily as his service record showed, but it had gained him few friends. Life was indeed lonely at the top.


“ Colonel Rotansky,” Desaria called into his arm-mounted comlink. “ Who is your best shuttle pilot?”


Vorishilov Rotanksy stood from his own chair in a darkened command chamber above the Autarch’s launch bay. From the row of windows lining one wall he could see three squadrons of fighters ready for immediate deployment into the fray of battle. Several gunboats and assault shuttles were also ready for their own slice of the melee. “ Ensign Arit Urra, sir.”


“ Very well. Is his craft prepared?”


“ It is, Admiral, he has been assigned pilot rescue duty.”


“ Excellent. Give his ship priority in deployment. He is to be released on my command only. Understood?”


“ Yes sir.”


Desaria muted the comm. channel and turned to his gunnery officer. “ Our course will be changing shortly. Compute firing solutions for torpedo batteries at a range of five kilometers. Order all other weapons ready for action.”


His commands being executed by the dutiful men of his command ship, the Admiral took a datapad in hand and began typing furiously.

- - - - -

Range counters were ticking down as six Imperial ships of the line moved towards the light-washed fray above the weary world of Corellia. Warships under the Empire’s finest officer sat around the poorly deployed Coalition formation pummeling it with weapons on all four sides and above as well.


The 1st Imperial Destroyer Squadron headed imperturbably on under the Coalition fleet. It was by no means there, but its course was unmistakable. As the lance-shaped squadron passed the outer Imperial TIE pickets a small craft could be seen emerging from the leading vessel. Disgorged in space in the midst of massive ships of destruction was a bone white Lambda-class shuttle. Immediately as it moved the brave or reckless pilot had to brave sentry vessels heading the opposite direction. There was little room for error: indeed it clipped a Defender Mark II but managed to remain true to its plot. The Defender fell from formation leaking plasma and fuel.


Launch Bay, RSD


“ What the hell?”

Lieutenant Vasily Orolov muttered under his breath as a shuttle unexpectedly came crashing through the gravimetric field sealing the landing bay’s oxygen in. Indeed the ship did crash. Such a rapid and unstable entry to a moving warship had not allowed either the shuttle’s computer or pilot to adjust to internal pressure, inertia, or any factors normally affecting a craft while landing. Three fighters being prepped for deployment found themselves scattered across the deck in many pieces, a broken but whole Lambda in their space.

The Officer of the Deck ran over, dozens of other men moving as well. Many had hands resting on service pistols. Two pilots missing only helmets to their black jumpsuits pried open the emergency hatch atop the command cabin, compressed air hissing out as the seal was broken. A man leapt out in a clean and untarnished Imperial uniform, the insignia of an ensign on his grey jumpsuit. All hands were removed from pistols.

“ What the frell are you doin?” The grizzled deck officer would have throttled him could he reach over the three meters of smashed Defender wing between he and the arrived pilot.

The pilot reached into the cabin and pulled a datapad out. He then leapt down and ran for the nearest scomp link. There were shouts from some, especially the medics on deck, but he would stop for none. The code provided by Admiral Desaria allowed immediate access to the internal communication system of the Reign-class Star Destroyer Solar


Bridge: RSD Solarium - -


“ Orders? We’re jammed!”

Commander Ghern handed his captain a crystal sheet the computer relay monitor had spit out at him. Captain To’ourve regarded it and mumbled and curse of awe.

“ Helm!...”


RSD Autarch


“ Helm, give me a current course heading with new mark: two-seven-zero.”


“ Half roll, Aye sir!”


Desaria watched as the Fleet that had loomed above his lumbering battleships took another form: a looming fleet to his starboard side. The flagship rolled and gave the ventral quarter of the coalition fleet its best side.


On the haunches of the squadron’s command ship sat a pair of brand new Imperial III-class Star Destroyers, lauded and potent descendents of the VSDs of olde. The captains of the two ships had been trained to act in tandem with their lead unless otherwise ordered. Jamming prevented a countermand of such protocol and so as the Autarch turned to give the enemy its broadside, so did the Suvorov and Hussar.


Behind this forward detachment sat another Reign-class Destroyer, itself trailing two new and powerful Victory-class Star Destroyers. Those ships, though they had much improved computer systems and drive packages than their predecessing classes still retained the basic heavy flank weaponry of the original designs. They were arrayed in a file and trained as the forward element.


Jamming had prevented effective communication through modern means, but the Ride of Ensign Urra had allowed the Solarium to receive orders from its commander. The second element as it was casually known was not doctrinly bound to follow the first without countermand, thus would not have turned as did its bow comrades. Only hand-delivered commands had allowed this cooperation.


It was thus that all six warships presented the soft underbellies of the Coalition warships a wall of turrets and batteries.


“ Fire.”


From that wall pulsed a heavy rain of energy from heavy turbolasers and projectiles from proton torpedo batteries. There was little to save the enemy vessels except for waning shields, drained already by pummeling from bow, flank, and aft.


The circle, or rather the sphere, was complete. General Dodonna was trapped.


OOC Action – Imperial Fleet arrayed under Coalition force

Damage to Imperial 1st Destroyer Squadron: 4 TIE Defenders inoperable

Damage to Coalition Fleet:
- 2 Assault-class Frigates: shield loss, ventral quarter
- Imperial Star Destroyer (1): shield loss, ventral quarter
- Victory-class Star Destroyer (2): 10 percent remaining shields, ventral quarters
- Tertiary hull damage scattered throughout

Xion's private quarters on the Shroud were small and cramped, compacted even more with the mess of technical blueprints and holo-information pads that were strewn across the floor.

They glowed in a fuzzy blue with representations of several different images, most of which contained the visage of a Viscount star defender. Technical specifications gained partly through intelligence duties, and others through Corellia's own yards where the Viscounts were constructed. Several images had detailed layouts of the viscounts internal layout, illustrating clear locations such as the engine room and bridge.

In a tiny corner of the room, the floor was stripped right down to the hull metal, and was adorned with painted symbols and writings centuries old. Around the outside of the symbols, lay thick tomes of sith literature and spells, arranged in a circular fashion around the thickly-painted writings.

Each book, of which there were seven of in total, lay open at a particular page that would correspond to a chapter on the adjacent book. In the centre, Xion sat, surround from his left to his right by an arc of books, his eyes a glow with a ferocity of concentration that his apprentice Maxor had never seen before.

Maxor watched on with fearful intrigue. His master's knowledge of ancient spells of the darkside was unsurpassed by few, who knew what nightmarish magics he could unleash with such power.

The young disciple glanced downward at the open page of the book that lay to Lord Xion's left, he deduced that it would be the first one read in sequence. The first page was marked in some ancient dialect of translated basic, which he understood as reading; 'Corporeal Translocation'.

While Xion had never attempted a feat on the scale of total body teleportation, he was entirely capable of pulling off an act of that magnitude in the eyes of his peers. Several months prior to the attack on Corellia, he had been charged with orchestrating a raid on certain Galactic coalition targets to take place a week from the current date. For the past 12 weeks his mind had been engrossed in studies of his enemies craft for the spell called for implicit knowledge of one's target location. He had spent several days simply sitting in front of endless technical dialogue at the corellia engineering corps for hours on end without interruption, studying and memorising every solid centimetre of the Viscount star defenders utilised by the Galactic Coalition.

He had grown intimately familiar with its layout and workings, dissecting it down to the last piece of deck-plating, analysing every bolt and screw to the millimetre, leaving no stone unturned. At a moments notice,his mind could recall a specific location if required be it crew quarters A92b on some random deck or where a fork was in the mess hall.

Even though he had taken in a tremendous haul of information, he had been transfixed with one place, and one place only. The shields. Shield control on any ship had to be a keenly monitored and controlled area, for in the midst of battle, one can not afford to leave their shields down or unprepared.

Guards would be placed at the door and a large number of other security measures would be in place to prevent unauthorised entry into such a sensitive area. However, unwanted incursions would only be expected through the doors to the room, and not by a Sith Lord who could appear where he pleased.

Therein lay the beauty of the plan, Xion would undeniably hold the element of suprise and with his next to Godly abilities he would be able to lay waste to the strongest of security detachments that awaited him on the other side.

Once inside, all that would be left for him to do would be to disable all available power to the shields, allowing entry of his commando teams into the hanger bay of the Viscount, tearing it open from the inside.



"You do realise, that by partaking in this ritual, you will be leaving yourself vulnerable to considerable harm, don't you, my apprentice."

"Yes Master, I know all too well."

"Good. If I were to undertake such a task on my own, I would undoubtedly be severely weakened. Therefore I will draw on your essence to supplement my own, while I make the jump."

"I am willing Master, my purpose is only to serve your ends."


With a solemn nod, Xion began the ritual. His long bony-blue hand emerged from underneath his cloak, and roamed across the first page. His skeletal finger traced along the lines of ancient sith text as he read the dead language aloud.

"Amunaad Gunaptraa, hunaa galagna, nalgata tuuma."

Maxor's eye's began to glisten with amazement as Xion's body slowly began to flicker.

"Seemuaayakina, teecyu, dalama, rikto, sota, noshadaa!"

Xion's lungs exhaled on the last syllable, and Maxor collapsed to the ground. His spiritual essence physically being drawn away in streams of bright energy, and being consumed by the Dark Lord.

His master's fingers went from book to book, switching from one to the next, reading aloud an innumerable array of frightening sounds.
Darth Xion's voice seemed controlled by something else entirely, enchanted by the spell.

"Keelmara, teeken, LET THIS BODY BE TAKEN, ACROSS SPACE, ACROSS TIME, TAKEN TO ANOTHER PLACE! AWAY!!"

. . .and in a blinding flash of bright white light, Xion was gone, and a drained Maxor Krath struggled to breathe on the cold floor of the room.

EDIT: Ren, i turned on HTML.

With a hiss the ramp opened up to cold vacuum of space. What was absent was the familiar hiss as atmosphere escapes out of a ship. For the most part there is no atmosphere in the modified Trillion Aggressor the SHADOW HUNTER. It made for convenient speedy exits from ones ship. Especially without the problem of having to breath.

C4 and his three droids head through the ship. Bodies float in the dead of space. Their bodies were nearly unreconizable after the rapid depressurazation. C4 would have felt sorry for them with his advance A1 unit. If not for the fact that they were in line with the Naboo Sith Order. Becuase of that fact he paid them no mind and no mercy each droid moved swiftly. The three droids had rocket packs for manuvering through the wreck of a ship with mecanical precision. Two of them were towing C4 along one holding each arm.

The first place that they stopped was the engine room. The place was open to space as well. Bodies drift by soundlessly. C4 looked at the droid that was not carrying him. A quick laser data feed let it know it's orders. It went to work while the trio of droids continue on. They explored until they came up through a hole in the floor.

The entire ship was exposed to vacum. With no survivors. The room that they came into had the lay out of a bridge. Further scaning of the room indicated that innitial thought was correct all of the bodies in the room wore officer insignia.

Another shockwave rocks the ship. C4 plants his feet on the ground activation magnetic boots seting him in place firmly. He was about to order his companions to their next task when he spoted something that he did not expect. In a thick cloak 'it' floated by. A body with a light saber attached to it.

C4 grabs the cloak with one hand pulling it infront of him from it's vertical floating position in the zero gravity. Slowly the hood fell asside with the momentum as c4 ceased the body from moveing. This was a sith. His face contorted in the pain of a death by space vacuum. Having all of his liquids pulled from his body. This was too good of a death for 'it'. C4 rips the saber from his side and deftly activates it the red blade extends soundlessly. For in the absence of air there is no sound. With a twist of a wrist he decapitates the frozen sith he deactivates the saber and pulls his blaster firing and blowing the head to bits.

::Way to good...:: C4 thinks.

A turning his attentions to the ship he moves to the captains counsil. All of the ships funtions could be accessed from here if...

All of a sudden the bridge counsils hummed with more power. Flickers became less pronounced. He looked at the top of the captains counsil. There was a small port for data cords. Pulling a cord from his belt the droid plugs on end into the counsil and another into himself.

The ship was running on minimal power and all of the systems were still open to him. Those that were not were childs play for him to hack through. This was his original function after all.

There was every thing. Command codes, Ship schematics, procedures, Encryption Keys, and most importantly a rundown of the battle plan.

Brilliant.

They had linked the entirity of this fleet with a sith mind meld. Allowing them some rudamentary communications. The shrouds were all assigned to take out specific ships and take them over. The ships in question had the sith on board.

From the computer he had the last known locations of each of the boarding craft.

He had all that he needed. There was alot of information to review so he stored it to his auxilery data storage unit for later analysis. For now working out how to use this information to his advantage.

He gave the two droids more instructions and as they head off in different directions he headed back to the ship.

The droid that he had left in engineering was already back at the ship. C4 pulled out 4 thermal detonators. Accessing the engine scematics he places them for maximum affect along with a time piece mecanism to set them off.

He speeds back to Shadow Hunter. The first one back was already preping the ship for take off. The next pair that he sent away arrived moments after him the ramp closes just as they enter.

C4 takes the helm his large bulk making the cockpit seem small.

The maglocks disengage and the droid drifts up wards firing the manuvering jets he glides gracfully out of the derlict craft. An internal chronometer ticks down. When he fired up the engines approximitly 20 meters away. Around his ship was a DP20 gunship and several Tie Devils. The moment that he brought his engines on line and shunted all power to rear shields the chronometer in his head counted down to zero. The Thermal detonators in the Shroud went off all at once. The first explosions came from several holes in the hull. The two droids that C4 sent on opposite paths to the Shadow hunter placed detonators as directional charges. Cuasing the ship to spin suddenly for but a moment. Vaporizing 8 Tie devils as it moved. That lasted a moment before the detonators in the engines when off causing a spatacular explosion. The DP20 and 16 more devils went up with the shroud. C4 shoot out at full power riding the wake of the blast that he had calculated to precision.

He entered in several command codes. Now his ship registered on enemy sensors as a freindly. The explosion left enough radiation to scramble sensors in the immediate area. But once they cleared enemy fighters fly by him without distinction of him as an enemy. He flies with all due speed to the Yunos. He makes it to the ships hull diving under what was left of the ships shields for some cover from teh fighting around him.

He starts at one end using tractor beams for precision flying he races for his next goal.

Action:

Derlict shroud Destroyed utterly and spectalularly

Taking with it:

1 previously damaged DP20
24 tie devils

Undisclosed Location... Several Days Ago...


"Do you really expect the Azguardian to talk?" the scientist asked as Moff Zell exited the interrogation room.

"Of course! That is the nature of interrogations!" Zell responded somewhat surprised at the naivete of the scientist.

But then again, scientists were always a bit naive.

"Everyone eventually talks!"

"But aren't there holdouts?"

Zell laughed. "Ah, the defiance of the hero... Nowadays, there is no one... no one in this galaxy that can interrogate as skillfully as the Empire. It comes from having to deal with underground rebellions .." the Moff's voice trailed off as he stepped out of the hall and into the main observation room noting several new people milling about carrying electronic datapads and recorders doubtless trying to squeeze every ounce of scientific data from the dissected bodies of the aliens as they could.

"Moff Zell! This is surely a surprise!" exclaimed one of the newcomers. Zell's eyes narrowed at the approaching woman as her name and personal information rolled across his brain.

"Dominic" the Moff said galantly taking her hand and kissing it.

The woman blushed slightly not being used to such attentions.

Another thing that scientists were naive at.

Whatever his personal opinion of the woman, however, she was on one of the preeminent scientific teams that spearheaded the Empire's setting up of Reproduction Centers.. safehouses for the alien population of the Empire to turn too if the Coalition or other pathetic enemy of the Empire turned once more to biological warfare.

"What brings you here?" she asked, pushing her antiquated eyeglasses further up the bridge of her nose. She was in her late thirties but already eccentricity was setting in.

“Alien fears…” Zell muttered irritably.

“Yours?” she asked slightly confused.

“Theirs.”

"Ahh.. their 'Declaration'?"

"You've heard?" Zell asked, slightly surprised that the woman kept up with the political happenings of the Empire.

"It's all that's been on the news." she answered absently as her interest suddenly moved to the alien creature lying down at the table nearest them. "Fascinating!" she whispered. "Truly a fascinating species."

Zell nearly barked out a laugh and quipped something about the alien having questionable parentage.

Her fingers moved to the forehead of the creature and Zell noted a fine line circling the Azguardian's entire skull. The woman's delicate fingers pushed slightly and the top portion of the alien skull came apart revealing a truly disgusting thing. Something that Zell would have sworn these aliens were missing.

A brain.

"The earlier reports were incorrect." she murmured as she picked up a very thin needle and began probing.

That caught the Moff's interest.

"How so?"

"The initial report stated that the two personalities exhibited by these creatures was entirely split, the one side not knowing what the other would be."

"But?" prodded Zell.

"That's not entirely correct. There was a rudimentary understanding as several subjects switched from their 'civilian'
personality to their 'military' one."


Zell smiled grimly. "That only adds to our purpose."

"How so?" the woman looked up curiously.

"It saves us from having to rehash everything when the bloody @#%$ switch from personality to personality."

"There is something else that would help you.."

"Yes?"

"Here... look!" she pointed and Zell peered closer to where she was probing with her needle. She applied a small amount of pressure a nerve ending and the alien on the table began to weep.

"Exerting pressure here in this region of their cortex automatically stimulates emotional responses."

Zell at first was startled to find that the alien was still alive and somehow conscious but the initial surprise died quickly.

The Moff put his hand on hers and applied more pressure and the alien began to weep more dramatically.


"Great @#%$ Jedi!" the Moff whispered. "Do you know what this means?"


The woman only smiled and Zell knew that she would exact something for her sharing.

I just might have to horn that superior attitude out of her..

He knew the next session would be very different. Lost in thought he suddenly forgot about the weeping creature on the table and plans of action began to form.




Shroud Command - Carida Academy


The instructor paced back and forth addressing the small cadre of the 'chosen'.

"The Shroud is the Empire's predominant attack class craft whose function is served best when their captains are able to operate without the stricters of a net.

Shroud captains will have to be versatile, opportunistic and, most importantly, flexible."

The man stopped and glanced at the not so young audience. "Only those especially exceptional people are slated for such a command."



Corellia


Admiral Chandler could not believe what he was seeing. The battered Coalition Fleet ran the gauntlet of deadly weapons fire being beseiged from all sides.

Then they began to break apart as they tried to work as an organized unit without the convenience of communications.

More time was wasted as they fleet began to break apart focussing it's numbers on certain vessels in the Corellian Anvil's lines.

Chandler had sent his TIE Devils ahead to smash the enemy's fighter corps from behind. The Devil's attack was brutal and devestating and Chandler had expected a certain..fair amount of reprisals.

So when the Coalition forces did nothing, the Admiral briefly wondered if he had stepped into a trap (however unlikely that particular thought seemed to be).

The TIE Devils were continuing their hunt to erradicated the Coalition's fighter force when something amazing happened.


In the midst of being totally surrounded and contantly pounded, "battered on all sides"...

One of the ragged fighters rose in space, and launched a special missle, a flare. A handful of fighters were specially picked to carry this flare-missile, and one was fired now. It did no damage, it did nothing, it just shone brightly, appeared as a blip on sensors, and was gone.

The Admiral watched as a TIE Devil followed that tired and ragged fighter reducing it to space dust.

What was that? A signal? For what?


And then the behavior of the enemy put to rest his questions..

Every Capital-class vessel began to ponderously regroup.

To the surprise of the Admiral and every man and woman in his 256th, the aliens pulled back.

"They're retreating!!" an Ensign said a bit excitedly.

"Look!"


The Bastion Conclave's Fleet suddenly appeared moving to the flanks and over the Coalition positions.

A perfect trajectory to provide the maximum amount of damage, thought Chandler, noting their position in relation ot the sun, and reinforce the Anvil.


"They are moving back into the Centerpoint Task Force... Closer to us and ... Sir! Scans indicate Baron Desaria has engaged!"

"Where?"

The tactical holographic monitor suddenly displayed stats of the action unfolding.



The Coalition made their fatal mistake. In the midst of battle, they paused. They hesitated to regroup and recoordinate an attack plan...

"It's almost as if they are suddenly being led by someone else..." Chandler murmured.

"All ships continue firing.." he unnecessarily commented.

The FCLCs moved forward, from their higher vantage and finding for themselves the remaining fighter corps of the enemy returning to the regrouping positions of their ships.

Not expecting the enemy to retreat as they did, the FCLCs gunnery crews were caught by surprise. Ships specifically designed to reduce the amount of enemy starfighters in a given area of space, the targeting computers, the gunnery crews and the rapid fire weapons found themselves overwhelmed.

While they cut a large path of death through the blanket of remaining fighters, it was too much for the cruisers to handle as their shields began to drain.

One of the FCLCs started to maneuver themselves higher... and then the second followed... and then the third. Soon all FCLCs removed themselves from the attack.

The Coalition fighters had a choice to make. Continue their rendezvous with their fleet regrouping or branch off to attack the FCLCs splitting off from the main battle.


Admiral Chandler noted that and drummed his fingers on the side of the command deck.

"Get me Scimitar Flight Leader.." he ordered. Getting the man on a private communication he began to outline a plan ordering the ordinance of a couple of fighters changed to something far more appropriate for what he had in mind.

"It'll take 5 minutes to change.."

"Do it." Chandler ordered. "I'll expect you to launch in six.."

(As of now, only the TIE Devils had launched)

"Order the Constrainers to join their two brothers on the far side of the planet and have them throw up a blanket of gravity wells outside the planet's mass shadow." The Sith began murmuring some more.



*

The large Viscounts and the Command Craft were the slowest to break off their attack and were the last to try to regroup.

However, they never made it.

"They're aboard.." murmured the Sith on the Victory's bridge.

The TIE Devils within the shields continued knocking out banks of turbolasers with their rapid firing ion cannons. Weapon blindspots and general unprotected gaps suddenly cropped up in the enemy's firing arcs emboldening the Imperials even more. With the changing course and slight increase in speed output from the vessels, the TIE Devil's recomputed their trajectories and velocities to prevent them from striking the hull of the enemy. Being 100 times faster, the adjustment was slight though when the Devils banked under the larger ships it gave the impression that they were retreating toward the gaps in the shields and attempting to escape.


Chandler made a mental note to make use of that later.


The large ships never made it to formation and the Coalition Fleet suddenly moved as one unit intent on it's goal.

"They are retreading old ground..." As the weapons of the Imperial Fleets (firing from all sides) never let up.

The Viscounts and the Command Ship tried to turn to attack with enemy fleet when suddenly, the Yunos Command Ship stopped in midturn, the inertia continuing to carry it while it seemd to lose power.

Before Chandler could focus on it, the bridges of the Viscounts and the Yunos registered explosions and a cheer went up from the ship's of the 256th.

Turning to the Sith to relay his orders to the fleet, "Full power to the engines! Let's match the Centerpoint Task Force under us and continue hitting the remaining advancing Coalition ships!

We finish it now!"


With Chandler from above, Trachta from behind, Telan from underneath and Theren completing the encirclement with the RSD Ravager being the pointman to the new Coalition endeavor, the tactical screens showed the shields of their enemies being stripped at a rapid rate.

However, it was not as if the Coalition Fleet stood idly by for they answered with a fury all their own.

"Lupercus has a commander in his fleet who is very shrewd.." Admiral Chandler murmured as support ships from the Corellian Anvil seemed to give way.

Chandler briefly wondered what the Coalition thought of the move..

Frigates shirked and cowered as they passed, the Imperial Discipline naught compared to the rage of people who knew their lives stood on the blade of a knife. This continued until it reached the capital of this particular fleet, commanded by someone who would not back down, someone whom in the eyes of the Coalition was beneath contempt.

The TIE Devils that Chandler had sent to strike the rear corps of the enemy had continued to cross the Anvil's line after the fighters turned tail to regroup.

Flying straight to the planet, they suddenly halted. At their speed, they pulled away from the battle faster than anything anyone else could have used to halt them.

The Sith murmured Chandler's orders to the Attack Sphere as it began to move up and over (at a very wide arc) toward the north pole of Corellia.


Admiral Chandler's eyes hardened at the fatal mistake the Coalition leader made. His emotions had gotten the better of him..

"Leading his men into a slaughter..." He turned to his scanning officer. "The enemy fighters? What are they doing?"

"Ignoring our FCLC's, Sir. They are moving to support the advance of their remaining capital ships."

The fighters had learnt their lesson too. Keeping tight, they swirled like a single bolt of lightning, whipping around the capital vessels and smiting entire wings of fighters, who were rapidly overwhelemd.

"It seems they are trying to finish off Lupercus' remainging fighter wings.


Chandler closed his eyes for a second, and, shaking his head, he sighed.


This mistake unfolded before the Empire..

Finally, the massive capital-class and the tightly-formed frigates charged around their prey, constantly moving in circles about it and constantly firing salvos of fire into it...

The entire Coalition Fleet had maneuvered themselves into a trap by focussing ALL of their numbers and guns at one ship!

Surrounding the Ravager, the Coalition was in such a tight formation that maneuvering was next to impossible unless along a predecided course (in this case a circle movement around the RSD).

The RSD was like a fortress holding firm with alien barbarians circling.. screaming their hate motivated by fear.

Whatever few fighters remaining of the Coalition after running (again) the gauntlet of the Corellian Anvil's fire, had to continuously monitor their courses and make constant corrections as the Capital ships were now suffering superstructure damage as they moved in and out of different positions to keep their circle tight and moving.


"Lupercus only has to close the ..." Chandler mentioned when the Corellian Anvil acted. "Yep.. They see it too.."


The Anvil Line had begun to wrap itself around the Coalition, and, holding a given position, fortified their positions by directing all their fire inward at the encirclement.


The Anvil had succeeded in it's purpose and the plan worked!The forward momentum of the enemy was finally halted... The RSD Ravager acting like the anchor holding the entire Coalition Fleet at bay... or what was left of it.



Tralus... Talus...

“You have two minutes to please acknowledge your compliance and act.”

And act they did.


"Look! They're retreating!!"


The Coalition force began pulling away and the command crew of the station turned to Admiral Ckeller in dumbstruck awe.

She couldn't help but grin.


"I guess they didn't want to piss me off today.." she mused.

"Our first victory!"

And the crew shouted their cheer..


"GLORIA IMPERIUM!!"


The release of their anxiety was like an addicting drug as the comrades in arms began to pat themselves on the back rattling off their perspective of what happened.

"WAIT!!!! Quiet!!! We are getting a transmission!!!"


"Location!" snapped Admiral Ckeller.

"Transmissions from Imperial Center.. .It's the Grand Marshall!"

"On screen!" Ckeller ordered briskly and the hard eyes of Simon Kaine filled the screen.

"To the Corellian System... Hold fast! Hold strong! Help is on the way!

The Empire has not deserted you!"


Admiral Ckeller cleared her throat. "A general recording."


"It looks like help has arrived." a private said, drawing the attention of everyone as scans began to come in.

"Emperor's Black Bones.."a voice was heard and Ckeller was hardpressed not to disagree.

"Send a databurst to Imperial Center.." she started.


*


Corellia


"The enemy is still being jammed, yes?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Brilliant! Have the Constrainer's activated their gravity well generators?"


"Yes, Sir!"


"Excellent! Anything coming from that direction will be caught. I don't want anything hindering the destruction we are about to wreak upon these fools!"


"All vessels on station!"


In the time it took the Coalition to run the second gauntlet, passing the front support ships of the Corellian Anvil...


In the time it took for the Coalition to take the bait the Anvil had opened for them...


The Empire had moved into position...

It was not a movement made without incidents for there were several incidents:


In the course of destroying the Defiance Class ships, one Shroud Attack Cruiser was a victim to a panicked enemy as their ships ran into it.

A testament to the effectiveness of the Shroud's cloaking capabilities.

The enemy did not even know they were there and the gamble the captain of the Shroud had tried failed.


*

Before the destruction of the Yunos Command bridge, an ion charge was released extending into an area of 200 meters. Except on the bridge of the Command Cruiser some of this distance would obviously filter out into space.

Fifteen Tie Devils were caught in the ionization effects and died falling to the comand cruiser's hull.

Shroud K701 also experienced a minor system fluctuation and had to retreat from the Yunos' vicinity, taking up a position with the FCLCs while in the rear of the Imperial Hammer while undergoing a system check. Shroud K19 destroyed the bridge of the Yunos.



*


The Hammer struck!

Centerpoint Fleet under Trachta...256th under Chandler...
Imperial 1st Destroyer Squadron under Desaria...
Bastion Conclave's two battlegroups under Gevel and Patton...


There was nowhere for the Coalition to go.


"Fire!" Chandler ordered coldly.





Shroud K402


The thin stream of power still trickled though the main memory core had been dumped. Automated procedure took over the moment the AI interface shut down and all biological activity scans read negative.

With power distribution in passive mode, the memory began a series of cascading program activations that would reconstruct memory space to give the appearance of mass storage while using meaningless information as a catalyst for detonation.

The corrupted data would act as a trigger for the engine core computer that would be unable to derive any deactivation overrides from the mass storage.

Unfortunately, that particular program was unable to perform because the engine room core computer was completely exposed to vaccum rupturing conduits between reserve energy storage areas and the main power source.

As a result, no detonation could occur via computer activation.


And so the random data just sat there....taking up space in a memory storage unit that no longer had purpose.

At least until an unauthorized entry triggered another cascade program.

A virus was uploaded and the memory upload suddenly began to unravel at the code level for there was no substance to the information.

Given the speed with which it's systems were activated, the core hardwired program (damaged as much as it's hardware was) was in no condition to test wills.

With the decision making AI programming purged, the only confirmation of authenticity would be a simple one.

Visual Scan - Passive.

No match found.

Cascade program activated.

Virus upload complete.



A few minutes later... K402 exploded.



OOC Damages


1 ISD rendered inoperable.

3 Mon Calamari MC-90 Star Cruisers - heavy structure damage
2 Mon Calamari MC-40 Star Cruisers - heavy structure damage
3 Haven-class Light Cruisers - light structure damage
15 Nebulon - B2 Frigates - light - heavy structure damage

*structure damage (incl. weapon emplacements, hull breaches, engine power, etc).

The battle was all but won for the forces of the Galactic Empire. The enemy's Defiance Hover Units and the troop transports that accompanied them had been crushed by Captain Densel and his Shrouds, and those ships now regrouped with Colonel Enrique's own vessels.

Those ships had escaped from between the shields of the enemy fleet after the TIE Devils had disabled the generators, leaving the large ships undefended and dead in space.

With the bridges eliminated and the Sith and Imperial Engineers neutralizing systems on the inside with relative ease, given the Coalition's lack of defending troops (most had been killed by Densel's Shrouds), the enemy craft were falling out of formation.

It would not be long before the engineers managed to reestablish some semblance of control over the vessels, but the remaining Coalition crews would already be dead.

The enemy flagvessels were effectively out of the fight; only the handful of smaller vessels remained to be taken.

Those ships had moved up to surround the Corellian Anvil, Lupercus Darksword's own forces. The Reign Class Star Destroyer Ravager appeared to be their central focus; as if the Coalition could hope to make up for the loss of their four largest warships with the destruction of a single Star Destroyer.

Or perhaps there was something more at stake.

The Azguardian ship, the smaller of the four, had led the attack force into the system, and its loss had clearly had an effect on the GC's jamming measures.

The nature of the vessel implied that it was under the command of an Azguardian... and it had been the Azguardians who had spoken out against Lupercus Darksword for the attack on Garos IV.

It did not become of lightsiders to seek revenge, but watching the Coalition ships continue to engage the Ravager, paying almost no heed to the Imperial ships closing on all sides, it was apparent that they were seeking one thing only.

The battle lines were closing, the Coalition vessels stopped up some distance from Corellia, with Theren Gevel's and Trachta's ships moving in quickly from behind, and the Baron Telan Dessaria's from a slightly lower plane.

The Coalition fleet was battered, trapped, and under assault from all sides.

The Shrouds, having regrouped behind the disabled command vessels of the GC armada, now moved forward as quickly as they were able, their missile racks exposing themselves to target the enemy's most powerful remaining ships.

They had only one shot with their guided warheads, but clustered as the enemy fleet was guidewires would not be neccessary. The computers locked onto the rear of the enemy's Star Destroyers, five that had come to fight at Corellia, and fired.

Twenty Shroud Cruisers, divided amonst five enemy, resulted in nearly one hundred missiles being released against each of the enemy warships. Some missed, striking other ships ineffectually, but the majority of the warheads struck the rear shields of the enemy ships and collapsed them.

One such vessel, already suffering from structural damage, had missiles pierce its hull and explode within, causing the entire vessel to tremble.

The battle was all but won.


<blockquote style="padding-left:0.5em; margin-left:0; margin-right:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; border-left:solid 2"><font size=1>Damages

TGC:
Moderate - Heavy Shield Damage on all ISDs</font></blockquote>

Ships were burning under the fires of Corellia. As the first coalition fleet began to succumb to the ruthless fire of the loathed Imperials, a glimmer of hope appeared. Even as the ruined ships collapsed and crew escaped in pods, the Azguards manned the dying ships’ guns, knowing that they would not be captured, so the only acceptable outcome was death while fighting ones’ enemies.

The last of the fighters, now reduced to a near-negligible force tore brutally at the shrouds (Whose volley of deadly brought the attention of every gun in range.) There was no conceivable sane way they could survive.

Finally, a glimmer of hope. The Ravager, despite its’ desperate attempts at recovery, suddenly lost its’ shields. Desperate for a way to escape, the remaining Coalition vessels rushed it, passing scant metres away from the hull, all the while blasting away.

A particularly ballsy Victory class made an amazing, daring rush across the front of the Ravager, and as it passed the command deck peppered it with missles.

Scratch one ship.

It cracked up under the pressure of fire. Explosions rippled through its’ body, and the fast departing coalition fleet had a moment of sweet revenge as they watched the crew burn.

Taking advantage of the opening in the Space, the Coalition Forces regrouped, even while under heavy fire, and flew straight up in an area of spcae where no Imperials were to stop them. Despite the amazing and terribly painful rain of missiles and las-fire being loosed by the departing First, The Centre point fleet and the rest of the Corellian Hammer turned calmly to chase, but unfortunately for them it was time for some hope.

Appearing, like an apparation of hope, came the Coalition second fleet. Their guns were primed and coming rapidly into range. As the second fleet charged across space, still fairly distant, the first fleet beat a blazing pace towards them. They stayed above the imperials so as to keep them out of firing range.

And as for the Sith? He may have known a lot about Viscounts, but he didn’t know Jack about the Azguards. The Commander of its’ ship instantly called a code-red as sensors picked him up. The crew in the area dashed under closing doors and pulled back heavy armoured doors. The room was sealed for decompression and the lights flickered red. A sign.

Outside the ship, a Mech who had noticed the red light flew into an opening made in the shield for him. He flew over to the red-light zone, blasted it open, and leapt away, as the Sith went spiralling into space. One shot later, he was dead. Scratch one Sith. The mech exited through the shield hole which closed up after him.

And on the burning ships, namely the one with Lup and his Sith, the pods launched. Of course, by now the sith probably knew that their transport had been wasted, and the dying ship they were on had but one further way off, the Pods that were as we speak flying off in all directions. Of course, not all of them could launch, but the Azguards knew what to do. “Blast ‘em”. Turrets fried unused pods, and those who couldn’t man guns used their last moments to arm themselves and close down corridors to slow the boarders’ escape.

There’s courage, then there’s Azguard Courage. Nothing could match it, not even the evils of the Sith. This was the same with all ships that were dying, the Azguards sacrificing themselves to save their colleagues and smite their enemies. Regrad sensed this through his link with the Gods of Azguard, and prayed silently for their souls.

______________________________________________________________________________

An “Undisclosed” location.

Xill Turner was an average Azguard. He was of fit build, of strong spirit, and of unshakable faith. When they had been captured, many decided that it was not worth the risk to the homeland to continue living. They had to kill themselves least the enemy learn where they’re from and bring death to their families. Xill had thought differently. He was from the fire tribe, and as far as he was considered, he was going to have a stab at the Imperials before they were finished here.

The gods of Azguard respect courage, and of the few survivors in the prisons, he was definitely the most courageous. So, far off on Azguard, the Gods pooled their power, and sent it across the galaxy to their servant with a message. Avenge your kin.

Outside his cell, a pair of stromtroopers stood at attention, bored, tired by yet another hour at guard. There was a noise from inside the cell, so one of them turned to look inside. A dozen aliens were strapped to different tables, each connected to a drip laden with drugs to keep them asleep. No, eleven. One table was empty.


The two guards looked at each other. Keying in the code, they raised their rifles and stepped slowly into the room. It was eerily silent, as each of the faces remained perfectly still. Then, suddenly, a grey figure fell from above onto one guard. Long claws ripped through his helmet and pierced his skull with an all-mighty rip. Blood spurted from his head, and he fell dead. The other turned, pointed his rifle at the massive alien towering above, but it was too late. A clawed hand shot out and gutted him like a fish. He fell dead too.

Xill stepped slowly from his cell. The way was clear. In one hand he had a rifle, the other had his claws, blood-stained and dripping with gore, fully extended. His fangs dripped venom, and he set off to free his kin, for better or worse, for vengeance or victory. Moving from shadow to shadow, destroying security cameras and then going the other way to fool them into thinking he was going that way. Finally settling in a silent rest-room, he waited for more guards to pass by.

______________________________________________________________________________

On board the dying Yunos, security captain Yuri led his team of Azguard elite combat troopers through locked-down sections, moving slowly from room to room. They were dead men, but by gawd, they were taking the poor @#%$ son-of-a-@#%$ who did this to their ship with them. Though they were not Jedi, they were armed with anti-Jedi weapons: namely, a Light-saber each, explosives, and energy shields (episode one gungan shield things). They also had the regular kit of each elite Azguard soldier, las rifles, las pistols, thermal detonators, knives, night-vision goggles, the lot. But most importantly, they had rebreathers. Seeing as how the Azguards were a minority on their own ship (This was, by military standards and organization, a Mon Cal commanded vessel, and thus had a mostly Mon-Cal crew) and seeing as how the rest of the crew had left on pods, there were plenty of respirators to go around.

As they moved through each compartment, it was locked behind them. The Azguards who they passed were quick to join, until perhaps forty angry soldiers were marching their way to take out their last revenge on the sith.

“They’re just behind this door” said a man with a scanner. Yuri nodded, adjusted his rebreather, and opened the door. “Death or Glory, the Azguard First!” The men poured in, blades extended, guns out, with the door closing and locking behind them, and with thermal detonators flying at short range. There was no fear, there was no hesitation, there was only hate and vengeance.

______________________________________________________________________________

A similar thing was happening on the Viscount where Ton’s Team were. As the crew fled and the small, elite group of Azguard warriors assemballed for a final act of defiance, they decided to use their knowledge of the ship to their advantage.

As Ton moved down a corridor, protected like a coward by his armoured escort, they suddenly experienced something rather unpleasant. It was the heavy blast doors in front and behind closing, the sudden appearance of a thermal detonator from above, the sight of a saluting Azguard pressing a button, a sudden wave of fire and shrapnel, followed by a painful darkness, and wrapped up with the horrifying feeling of the floor being blasted out from under you, falling down many decks, and getting sucked out into space. Vengeance was sweet, even to the dead.
______________________________________________________________________________
(Note, this next part is set from the beginning of the post)

The two remaining viscounts Sealed the upper command post. The auxiliary decks came to life, as the crew took over. Azguards set to ‘Right-brain mode’ were the closest thing to commanders available. They directed their ships to unload onto the spots ahead of the command decks, and they were rewarded with the sight of shrouds bursting into flames under more firepower then should ever be sanely allowed to any sentient race.

They moved with all speed, along with the remaining Coalition vessels of the first fleet, and rejoined the second, where they set about recovering their ailing shields. Just to make sure there were no boarders, they vented the hanger and monitored the corridors.

(OOC Summary:

The Second fleet finally makes it to battle (Here come the cavalry!). The remains of first fleet destroy the Ravager (We were pumping a hell of a lot of shot into that bucket.) as it charged by, and is now closing the distance to the 2nd fleet with the intention of covering them and recharging their shields. And the attempt to hit them with garbage failed (It was rather silly in my opinion) The tractor beams were not fast enough and not precise enough to hit the ships, which merely dodged around them.

On the burning hulk of the disabled Viscount, those who could fled, except for the Azguards. They put on respirators, locked down the ship, blasted all unused pods, and finally blew all the decks beneath Tons’ team, used the security doors to trap them there, and blew through their own hull so that Ton’s team would end up getting sucked into space. And to be sure a zealous Azguard used a thermal detonator, a vent, and some courage to become our first suicide bomber.

One the dying Yunos, they have not the luxury of an encumbered foe, and have instead assembled their last men to stage a last-stand scenario against the Sith.

Wherever the Imperials kept my Azguard civilians imprisoned, the Gods of Azguard used all their great powers to awaken one of them and spur him to action. He’s escaped his cell and is using stealth and a rest-room to stay out of sight.

The two damaged Viscounts of the first fleet recovered and were able to retreat with first fleet.

The second fleet will be in range to fire next round. The Ravager is dead along with 300 Ties (those tiny things are as easy to kill as your average ant) and all Centerpoint and Anvil vessels suffer another -20% onto their shields from fire as my fleet pulls up, up, and away..

To counter the sun-hiding tactics, the second and first-fleet has Fire-tribe, light-tribe, and air-tribe Azguards at the guns’ controls. They are all well used to fighting under, towards and even around flaming suns. So your little trick won’t work so much. And also we still have plenty of missiles, so if we have to we can just use those, so very little targeting is necessary.

Also, those shrouds? Those cunning little deviants? Well, firing on the command deck pretty much reveals your position, and even if the ship is dying, that’s’ a whole lotta crap comin’ down on you. Consider the four of them dead, crippled, whatever you feel. The volume of laser fire that would hit them would be many times greater then their ships’ total size.

There’s a rather substantial “Killing field” between the Second Coalition Fleet and the empire. Any attempts to advance through it will result in a pounding by the entire fury of my fleet. Even the invisible shrouds will have nearly no hope of making it to the coalition fleet without getting hit. Future Shroud forays will be discouraged by the sealing of the hanger bays, and the consistent hold of shields over the bridges. If your fighters come over to “Draw us out” again, a single mass volley of missiles, lasers, and ion shots will devastate them to a state of near-total-death. Any more tricks is bringing all hell down on you. You guys have expended so much power and ordnance already that my fleet just wants you at arm length so that we can blast the crap out of you.

Next round, you are finally going to get whats' coming for you. And if you are wondering, it will involve lots of shooty death.

Lots.)

(OOC: Am editting in my posted based on the fact that the 2nd fleet is nowhere near Corellia, since it isn't. If its jump is to Corellia from Talus, it would have been ripped out of halfway by our constrainers.

Also, I'm taking into account that Dolash did waaaaaaaaaay too much in his last post, since its unfair in the scheme of things to allow someone to do that much. Otherwise i'll just flank his fleet in a single post, attack and disable all his ships engines.

I'm allowing him to destroy the Ravager, despite the confused movement picture he used to do so. Capital ships arne't that fast, and cannot 'circle' another capital ship, perhaps over 2-3 posts, and thats assuming they were already there, which yours weren't.

The most movement i'll allow is his closing in on the Ravager, with the lead VSD being right on top of the ship, his partners behind him, as the ship is destroyed. Your post ends there, no 10000s of kilometres journey around the planet to his buddies, who shouldn't even be there now.)

Life Support Systems, Yunos Cruiser.

In the time it had taken for the few Azguard to assemble, Lupercus had prepared, tripping the door with a small brace of thermal detonators. He and Silus were quick to bail from the room and await the carnage. They didn't wait too long.

The door was blasted open, a swarm of azguard pouring over the trip wire, some so close that the explosion vapourised sections of their bodys. Through the other door another group poured, to similar effects. The azguards numbers had been reduced by half, the wide spacious corridors increasing the size of the killing field. Increasing the damage was the shock of the attack that caused a number of azguard to drop their rebreathers, causing them to collapse to the group, hands clasping their throats. As the 2nd explosion sounded, and the remaining azguard peered through the smoke, Lupercus' head popped down, spotting the 15 odd who emerged.

"Silus, my sly apprentice, they appear to have lightsabres.

And why does that not matter?"

Silus knew where his master was going.

"Because those @#%$ morons don't know how to use them?"

Lupercus grinned mischeviously, and waggled his eyebrows. But there was nothing humourous about the look in his eyes. Suddenly in his hands 2 heavy duty handblasters appeared, and Lupercus flipped down to the ground. The blasters were of a triple barrelled design, and were heavily modified. Laughing heartily he opened fire, the azguard falling to the massive amount of fire the sith laid down. They tried vainly to use their sheilds and sabres to deflect the bolts, but they were unable to match the reflexs of the jedi that were required to block bolts with a sabre, and the few who crouched under the shields were killed as Lupercus bolted into the room, dodging their shields and killing them before they could see he was gone. After he fired, he noticed Silus leaping amongst the few remaining azguard, ending their filthy alien lives.

Moments later they were back at the enterence at which they had waited.

"The engineers and marines have arrived, and the Cenobites have cleared the ship. Lets go again!"

Smirking, the pair disappeared, their speed echoing the fastest landspeeder as they retreated to the lucky eleven.

Everything was coming up Empire.

Boarding the shroud, Lupercus and Silus could already see a large number of Imperial troops flooding into the Hangar bay, securing the ship once and for all. And as it took off, ready to deliever the Sith Lord and his apprentice to another ship, Lupercus knew the battle had turned completely against the GC.

RSD Ravager.

Pitta watched as the ships charged towards his flag. The sheilds were dropping considerably, but the rebel fleet continued to charge, oblivious of the damage they were receiving.

"Sheilds out!"

The call came as an enemy VicStar exploded, sending debris scattering amongst the charging foe, its prominent bridge slamming into a charging MC40, severing the ugly craft almost in the middle.

"We're taking structural damage sir."

Admiral Pitta knew that already, of course they were, but the sacrifice of one Reign was more than enough for the damage that had been done. Laser fire continued to arc out, the TIE Defenders unleashing a vicious salvo that accounted for a 2nd VicStar, its hull breaking up before it could do any more major damage to its compatriots.

"Sir, i am sounding evacuation."

"Fire off our last loaded round of heavy rockets..."

The ensign nodded then began immediately making for one of the escape pods. The Sith were with him, and the pods would take the crew immediately to Corellia, utilising a rudimentry SLAM system. He saw the rockets streak out, slamming into another VicStar. Watching his men begin to leave, Pitta ordered his SBCs to deliever the finishing volley which arrived only a few moments later, the 3rd VicStar being accounted for.

The inside of the Destroyer flashed red as evacuation sounded, crew scurrying to their assigned pods in a relatively orderly fashion. Explosions accounted for some but the bulk of the Imperial Naval personel survived.

Elsewhere, the Anvil was still fighting, the skirmish line accounting for a number of gunships and covettes. The Lorell Gunships themselves delievered the final blow as the remaining marauder was liquidified in a hail of superfast and extrapowerful turbolaser blasts.

Pitta watched from his pod as one of the remaining VicStars passed above 2 of his Imperators, its sheildless underbelly bearing the full power of the mighty destroyer, breaking off crippled. Explosions rocked its surface as its crew ran desperately for its escape pods.

Then the mighty Ravager finally cracked, a Victory SD making a desperate run at the crippled ship, unleashing a vicious close range volley of missiles. Pitta laughed out loud as the ship was engulfed in the Reigns destruction, and did not come out of the other end of the explosion.

Truly a worthy sacrifice...



Damage total:

5 VicStars destroyed
marauders destroyed
most of the gunships destroyed (your discrecion, although it would have been the slower ones)
MC40 sliced in half by 1st dead VicStar
(bear in mind none of your ships have had sheilds since my last post)

Heavy structural damage to all GC ships as they are ripped to @#%$ by the combined Imperial firepower and their running through an exploding s

It was possible to see the movements of the battered Coalition Fleet from the 1st Destroyer Squadron’s rotated position. With the broadsides of the heavy battleships arrayed against the delicate bellies of their alien nemeses, thousands of the Imperial ships’ crewers could view every maneuver and action with a rare panoramic clarity. Gunners would pause as they were relieved by reserve crews to take in the view from exposed sponsons.

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp
There was of course no better view than from the bridge of the Autarch, warship carrying the flag of Baron Telan Desaria, Chief of the Imperial General Staff. For the magnificent views of exploding ships set against black space and a blue-white planet, nothing compared to the three-dimensional holographic plot-sphere mounted at the maw of the command deck’s aft control corridor. Other officers not weighted down by the responsibility of command may have found the visual scene more spectacular than the swirling mass of grid lines, unit designations, and ship icons. To a commander of such a unit as the 1st Destroyer, there could be no better view of the field.


There buzzed only suspended ions and specs of light that together composed the battle between Admiral of the Fleet Baron Desaria and the bridge’s bow viewports. Officers buzzed about as the bridge itself was bathed in a flare of neon light, one of the tri-minutely salvoes left the Destroyers’ guns. Men cowered, cheered, flinched, smirked: their reactions varied greatly. The Admiral did not concern himself with his flagship’s operations as Captain Yerlinn was doing so proficiently. He was concerned, however, with the foolish yet brave actions of his foe.


Look on the Ships of Your enemy with Interest for it is on that Metal that your own Mettle shall be Tested. As an instructor at a provisional staff course on Bastion immediately after the Virus, Desaria had uttered those words to his cadets. He now saw as he always had the truth of his statement. The hulls of the Imperial warships were standing up to whatever punishment their enemy could give them and refused to yield. This did not deter their attacks which showed as much the ineptitude of their commanders as it did the magnificent valor of their crewmen and pilots – all of which now drifted in space as free-floating atoms or frozen pieces of flesh.


“ Ensign, damage to Target Etti-7.”


A technician standing next to the Admiral, datapad in hand, punched up several displays and rambled them off with the rapidness of a man interrupted. “ All shields gone. Forward weapons operable but damaged. Armor buckling in eight places.”


Desaria turned. “ We have regained communications?”


Yerlinn marched over from the starboard side where he was dispatching orders to a representative of the ship’s chief engineer, otherwise disposed. “ Partial only. A burst of a few words at best because their jamming is breaking but not gone.”


“ Send to all squadron ships: Etti-7, Fire, Full. And order all our gunners to target it as well.”


Yerlinn nodded and departed.


The message was sent and acknowledged by a burst of chaff fire off the port quarter. When the Admiral gave the order, every gun from his six Destroyers let loose a withering and punctuated salvo at a hapless VSD under Coalition control.


Little could be done to save the ship. The 1st’s guns had moved from ships, disabling primary systems and moving on, not eliminating any to save the hope of boarding. This ship was too far gone to be useful as anything save scrap, thus its fate. Neon bolts cut broad scars in her heavy armor tearing wide gaps in buckling bulkheads. Entire compartments then entire sections were exposed to the vacuum of space. Oxygen stores cooked off like shelled-artillery rounds sheathing the cruiser in a wreath of flame. Torpedo magazines exploded shaking the old but true ship to pieces. In no time at all she was drifting and breaking apart. She fell from the lines and fragmented in splinters no larger than shuttles.


OOC Damage

Previously damaged TGC VSD DESTROYED