Star Wars STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!

IC: Cain Varss

Above Port Haven

A trio of ARC-170s flew overhead while Cain snapped out from his daydream, the lead being Safety’s replacement fighter. I wonder if he waited for clearance.

Cain, knowing he had clearance, punched the throttle all the way forward, no doubt irritating those present in the hanger. He wanted to get a feel for the new fighter though it was not difficult. The ARC-170 flew similar to his Z-95, the controls also being very familiar to him. The top speed of the craft was higher, as were the shields. He also enjoyed the more advanced sensor package. It was a military craft and it reminded him how much he missed military technology. Sure, the fighter was from the clone wars, but military hardware was military hardware. Also, the astromech offered some advantages in combat, even if this one was slightly uncooperative at first.

As the ARC-170 soared out of the hanger, he opened the s-foils into attack position. He still remembered that trademark of the starfighter from his childhood and it was exactly as satisfying as he thought opening the s-foils would be.

Still, Cain had to admit that he was confused. Although Fress had told him to clear a path for this ‘Lasso’ character, Cain had no idea where to go or where to clear a path. He listened to his comms to hear Safety’s familiar voice.

“House of Vimalfrom Surefall Lead. You have inbound missiles. We will try to intercept, but strongly suggest evasive action.”

Cain moved in on one of the two missiles and took a few shots from his fighter at one of the missiles before pulling off.

“Safety, Cochise. Took some pot shots at one of the missiles. Good luck.”

Instead of staying on the missiles, Cain decided to head for the objective Fress had given. Now to find where the shuttles were... If only I had access to Jod positions on my comput-. Wait, I’m in a Jod fighter.

“0D, bring up where those shuttles are on the nav screen.” The droid complied and Cain had their locations pinpointed. “Good, now open up comms with Guardian Squadron.”

“Guardians, Cochise here. Heading into atmo to engage hostiles and provide cover for the shuttles.”

The ARC-170 went straight for the planet where the shuttles had landed. I wonder which one is here for Lasso?

“0D, which shuttle is tasked with Lasso’s retrieval?”

//Sentinel-class landing craft Burn Notice.//
Cain checked the computer and saw Burn Notice seemed to have adequate escort. He saw the other blip that was apparently a Nu-class shuttle, Trixie Belle, with comparatively light escort compared to Burn Notice. Cain almost decided to move in toward Trixie Belle, but decided against it. Stay on mission. Your only concern is Lasso. I hope this Lasso, whoever he is, is worth the effort.

Cain took the loaner ARC-170 into the atmosphere on the lookout for enemy craft, noticing a pair of TIEs on the same heading as he was in front of him. They were out of laser range, but not torpedo range. Cain cycled over to proton torpedoes, got a lock, and fired on the lead TIE. The TIE fighter broke too early and the torpedo met its target creating a fireball in the upper atmosphere. The second TIE had broken off in an evasive maneuver. Time to get to work.


Tag: Sith-I-5, Falcon, CPL_Macja, Bravo, anyone else nearby that might be involved

 

IC: Josch Decinchi alias Zieleb-Xan ‘Mac’ Macja
Whendyll System

Josch started to scale the ladder to his fighter when he felt something bump into his leg. He looked down and discovered a black R2 unit looking up at him. Hey, I know you! Where’s Yav?

The erphaean pilot racked his memory searching for the astromech’s name, “Deputy, right? Safety had to dock with another ship after the skirmish. I’m sure that he’ll be around to collect you after we finish rescuing the rest of the Mercs. Which, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go provide some cover.” Josch finished climbing into his fighter, settled into his seat, and slipped on his helmet in time to hear Fress’s orders.

“This is Firecracker, on Lasso’s signal let’s clear him a path to escape. Mac you’re flying wing with me.”

“Good copy Firecracker, I’ll keep a close eye on your backside.” He then looked over his instrument panels to find that his missile launchers reloaded with Arakyd ST2 concussion missiles and his fuel was still being topped off. Leaning out the opposite side of his cockpit, Josch noticed a hanger tech still tending the refined fuel line that was connected to the underside of the Arrow. “Come on Junior! Can’t you pump that stuff any faster? I’ve got friends down on the surface that need air support!”

The middle aged hanger tech, who physically looked older than Josch, gave him a snarky look. “Listen whipper-snapper, if you hadn’t run your tank bone dry before refueling you would be out of here by now. So just sit tight and finish your preflight, I’m almost done, Sir.”

Normally Josch would have continued the argument, but the tech was right he did have to finish up on his checklist. As he went over the last few items Josch tried to figure out why he was flying on fumes since the last space battle wasn’t all that long. Then it dawned on him that he had not refueled since being re-assigned to the DD. As he thought back, in just the short time that he had been with the MERCs, he had gone through a lot. His experiences included, but were not limited to, taking on an Imperial StarDestroyer, racking up at least nine fighter kills, being promoted, and even being approached to train as an actual Jedi.

“There you go, Sir,” the Tech shouted up to him as he detached the fuel line and moved a safe distance away.

Josch switched his engines off of stand-by, and keyed up his comms to Fress once again, “I’m strapped in and ready to go when you are Cap.”

TAG: JediFalcon

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Sub, oceans near Port Haven

"That'll do skipper, that'll do,"

"Captain Jason Lasso, this is Captain Timothy Stakes of the Allegiance, King II-class Battleship for the Kingdom of Jod. How do you copy?"

Lasso smiled. King II, under the command of a familiar name, must of meant more firepower and, more importantly, a proven ally. That meant all good in Jason's book, but not knowing the details yet of what was going on in space, could of meant a big rescue party or a small one.

Lasso waited with an anxious heart as the communications gear went through the process of feeding the return message through the proper filters and channels. And then a long moment of silence as the signal shot through the vacuum of space and to its receiver. When the light on the handle went from red to green, Lasso gave a thumbs up to Taab, then spoke into the device.

"This is Jason Lasso! Where you guys been? We are ready to blaze trails out of here!"

Finally, they were getting out of here! Lasso looked over to Taab, "Get hold of the Sentinel, we're---"

"We're not, Captain. I'm sorry. Your on your own. Like Fiery Stars. Allegiance clear."

Jason's heart sank as the comms went dead. For a long moment, he stared up at the sky. Just staring. His mind refused to comperhend the hint in the message---the prophecy---Like Fiery Stars. They would be coming back. While Jason's heart knew the truth, it was his mind that back-peddled in shock. Abondened? Forsaken? Left behind? Such thoughts of betrayal started to flood his mind. But suddenly someone yelled, "Look!" as they pointed to the sky. Jason followed the outstretched hand and index finger to a space craft in low orbit over the Port Haven. Green fire errupted from her, visable even at this distance. Jason grabbed a pair of near-by Model TD2.3 electrobinouculars. He pressed them against his eyes and adjusted the settings; he zoomed in and clarified the imagine of the space craft in low orbit.

Lasso lowered the electrobinouculars and raised a fist and yelled in joy, "YEAH!!!!! Kingdom of Jod Light-class Destroyer, baby!" Soon more objects entered low orbit and Lasso scanned each one; the King II must of been the double bridged ship that looked like a King I, but bigger. Soon, the sky was filling with space craft of all kinds. Lasso looked to Taab, "Get us under the water! We're a sitting duck here! Someone get the Sentinel on the line, we'll need a pick up." Lasso had yet to know that everyone was going for the island, where they had used the old pirate base to boost their signal.

Soon, the sub was starting its dive and Lasso closed the last hatch as water starting filling inside of it. Sealing the hatch, water still dripping from the underside of the hatch, Lasso rode the ladder down to the deck and ran to the "bridge" where the small crew was already getting underway. They all looked to Lasso when he entered, "Take us to the river. We can use the jungle and mountains as coverage for the Sentinel to lift us out. We pop the bay doors, get a line to the tank, and ride the tank up. We'll need to make it quick. Taab, take our new tech and make sure the tank is ready and secure. Load her insides full with ammo and equipment from the sub we could use on the Johnny Boy. The rest of you, lets stretch our sea legs. Full speed, keep her steady. I want us riding mid range between surface and bottom ocean. All unessential energy off; comms off, power to a minimal, and everyone quiet. We are running quiet."


TAG Bardan_Jusik

 

OOG:

Sith, I didn't catch a response from you to Stakes' actions against the Imperial Heavy Cruiser. If I am in error, please ignore this post.


IC: Captain Timothy Stakes
Bridge, King II-class Battleship Allegiance, Outskirts of Whendyll System


The holograpic imagine of Wing Commander Joshua Timins fizzled out of view after the Wing Commander gave his report that all startfighters had been deployed or were being deployed. Three squadrons of starfighters---one squadron of Aggressive ReConnaissance-170 starfighters, one squadron of BTL-S3 Y-wing starfighters, and one squadron of T-65 X-wing starfighters, along with 6 GAT-12 Skipray Blastboats---would provide a starfighter screen and immediate close range support to the King II. Two squadrons of X-Wings, the Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor squadron, one squadron of Y-Wings, and one squadron of ReCon 170s would be doing the dirty work planet-side. One squadron of X-Wings and the last squadron of Rec 170's---along with 6 GAT-12 Skipray Blastboats---would be helping to protect the rear with the Eleventh Hour and DD. While given their unforeseen circumstances, Stakes did the best he could. He knew his weak spot was his rear and at that, it would be the death to this whole operation. Port Haven would provide both their rescue and death if those ImpStars hypered in. Their rescue, because if the ships could use their superior speed and positioning to the ImpStars, they could use the planet to shield their retreat. It was all based on speed and timing. If the didn't, then Port Haven would slow their escape with the gravity well. Unless...

"General Perz," Stakes suddenly ordered over the comm, "Is there anyway we could use the reverse the DD's gravity well projectors to drag one or both of those ImpStars into Port Haven's oceans? Communicate with the DD directly, Stakes out." Timothy reasoned that if a interdiction field could drag starships out of hyperspace, if enough power was focused, they could be used as massive tractor beams to sling a starship into an object, using the planet's own gravity to assist in the process.

For now, however, Stakes had larger concerns then a hypothetical idea; if it was possible, Perz would find a way. If not, then Perz would find another solution. Hopefully.

"Captain," reported sensors, "We are two minutes from long range engagement with the Imperial Heavy Cruiser."

Stakes nodded from his chair, "I want an Alpha Strike on that Cruiser. All batteries and weapon emplacements not in direct range, are to readjust their firing zones to compensate for the gaps in our weapon zones. I want both the ReCon 170's and Y-Wings to be ready hot to fire a volley of missiles in support of our fire mission. I want that Heavy Cruiser's shields and defensive weaponry overwhelmed and hopefully we'll end this quick. Gunnery, full power to our heavy guns. All in range weapons for Alpha Strike, target the super structure near the bridge and the bridge itself. I want communications and sensor suites as high value targets on the strike. Alert our Blastboats and X-Wings to assist in covering our gaps in weapon zones after the Alpha Strike."

"Communications, jam what enemy comms you can. Shields to full; adjust an extra ten precent to the front shields, adjust from the rear. Helm, attack speed, give us some space to starboard to alter course away from the planet if required. All damage control teams, on stand-by. All departments, secure your stations. Medical, on stand-by," Commander Hilton followed up.

The enemy cruiser seemed to come over the crest of the upper most pole of the planet like a roaring lion, as the Allegiance raced up to meet her.

"Long range batteries in range," gunnery reported.

"Long range, fire. Reload for Alpha Strike. Hold on Alpha Strike until all weapons in range," Stakes ordered. The long range batteries shook the Allegiance's deck as they fired under the gunnery officer's command. Hopefully the heavy batteries would give the Imperials something to think about and drain some of their shield power.

"Direct hit to Imperial super structure," gunnery reported, "Heavies reloading for full charge. Twenty seconds."

"Sensors?" Stakes asked.

"In range in thirty seconds, Captain," sensors reported, "On all forward gun batteries."


TAG Sith-I-5

 

Mary Formal, SCA Lieutenant Lotus, downed Sentinel-class landing craft, and flying Sentinel-class landing craft, Burn Notice
Location: Port Haven


“Only if you can run quickly with that heavy thing over uneven terrain." Salmakk advised urgently, in response to the Arkanian's question about the PLX-4 shoulder-launcher he had found. “They’re offering us a lift out of here and Imperial forces are almost on top of us."

Mary lingered outside the Sentinel's rear hatch, and glanced longingly back at the launcher, then a crashing from the left of the 'runway snapped her head around, to see the leafy tops of trees less than twenty metres into the choked jungle being pushed over by an unseen force.

Repulsor tank was her guess.

“We need to move now!" Neot barked trying to convey an urgency that was already coursing through her. “Ladies first, I’ll be right behind you.”

Mary stepped off the ramp and taking a deep breath of the hot wet air that was making the outfit stick to her, picked a horizontal trunk that crossed to the rescue craft, and, flappy-sleeved arms out to the sides to help balance herself, crossed as quickly as she dared, one foot in front of the other till she got a boot onto the other shuttle's cockpit ramp, where the open-visored man grabbed her arm, and pulled her behind him to shield her from the twin geysers of flame and debris as their Eta-2 escort returned at speed, and bracketted the Imperial vehicle.

"So, you are not Imperial?" She had to shout over the noise from the collapsing treeline.

"NO!" The warrior bellowed back in her face. "Welcome to the Trixie Belle. Now get inside, we lift as soon as your friend is aboard!"

She nodded, took her arm back, and ducked into the dark, narrow staircase that went up a few steps to a rectangle of light, where the space opened out into a long space with two low benches, upon which sat a single trooper in the same militaristic black uniform of the one outside, only this one's visor was still down over his face, giving him a worrying anonimity.

"M-morning." Mary wavered in greeting.

"Morning. Take a seat please." The trooper called past her to the front of the ship, "Lou, what's our status?"

"An Imperial ground element is almost upon us. We are clear of TIEs for the moment, thanks to some guy called Toe-Cheese, and we can lift as soon as that Mon Cal is onboard."

Mary looked round to see the back of the seated pilot, and shuffled silently into the passenger area to the back corner. She immediately zipped down the front of the stolen flightsuit, all the way to her crotch, eager to peel the damp clothing off, now that she did not need it.

It was to big for her, impeded her movement, and really, the only positive use for it she had found, was storage for some of the grenades she had picked up in the armoury.

She used one hand to hold onto the end of one sleeve while she wriggled her arm out, then did the same with the other sleeve, then wriggled her hips to help push the suit down over them.

The bench creaked as she sat hard on it to commence the last part of the dis-robe, while anxiously looking towards the entrance for sign of Salmakk.

* * * *

Over the coastal seas

The lush green island that seemed to be mostly crater, could be seen in the middle distance now.

Lotus' scanners had picked out an old-style submersible on the waters to their left, and though it appeared to be in the process of submerging, the airborne rescue convoy steered clear just in case, making a beeline for the island.

Chattering blue fire from a mass driver cannon hit the first Sentinel in the left side, pulverising the craft's main body and throwing glowing debris to the left of the convoy as Lotus braked hard, banking his own Sentinel to the right to take on the IDT that had fired the shot.

"H-House of Vimal from the Burn Notice. Convoy has taken heavy fire and we lost one ship. We have lost the Anderson."

Lotus manipulated the controls on his panel to aim his guns at the offending Imperial Dropship Transport that had drawn first blood, and waited for the cross-hairs on his targeting monitor to slide over the enemy's image.

Tag: Salmakk

 

IC: Major Maximus MacArthur
Hanger Bay, King II-class Battleship Allegiance, several minutes prior to reversion at Port Haven


Word had it that they were going to redeploy to outside the system; collect their naval forces and launch an all out strike against the Imperial blockade around Port Haven. But given the circumstances, Major General Scott had ordered extra troopers on the ready-go just in case. Word also had it, the Trixie Belle would get first shot at special ops and Burn Notice got the honor of getting the VIP in Lasso and company. Major Maximus MacArthur's Battalion---400 troopers strong---was spread out among the Trixie Belle and Burn Notice command elements to provide support to those units. MacArthur's remaining 200 Strategic Command Army Troopers were spread out in between two Sentinel-class Landing Craft---the Poseidon, Kraken,Cherub, and Seraph---and would get first crack at the main Imperial force at Port Haven proper. While other units would participate in the beach landing, MacArthur's unit would be the spearhead force. MacArthur wasn't phased by the task at hand, in fact, he welcomed it. A King's Army company captain before the Jod Civil War in 0 BBY for the 5th Corps, he was on leave with family off world when the war broke out. He had aligned himself with the nearest Loyalist ship he could find and found his way to the ultra-secret Actualize Station with his family. Like many Loyalists officers from the King's Army, Maximus MacArthur was given crash course training in SCA Trooper training, weapons, and equipment and assigned a fresh unit of SCA clones; as well as a promotion from company level command to battalion level command. But to MacArthur, the equipment and weapons came along as old hand and he felt like he had been wearing them for his whole career. Such was the life of a career soldier; the tactics had taken some time getting use to, but his military mind had easily adopted to such a task.

Given a new bunch of raw troopers---however much their clone bodies and minds were of the Twelve Queen's Guardsmen selected for the process---they were still raw troopers, not battle harden soldiers he commanded on the Beast front lines back home. But, unlike his veteran soldiers back home, these new SCA troopers learned quickly in training and had adopted rather well to MacArthur's structure and discipline. This pleased the 35 year old Major, who had---like all SCA Troopers, his identification tattooed to his face: LV-51110. Like a stormtrooper identification system, it simply read his unit's personal nickname: Leviathan Praetorian-Corps-Division-Regiment-Soldier. So, Maximus MacArthur could be identified with the Leviathan Praetorians of the 5th Corps, First Division, First Regiment, and was their unit Commander; 0 was Unit Commander.




As the staging area doors opened, Maximum MacArthur walked out, in SCA Trooper armor, his helmet cradled between his right arm elbow and his torso; his sidearm was on him, but his rifle was elsewhere at the moment (unlike most unit commanders, he also carried a blaster rifle in addition to his field sword on his opposite hip).

Music: The Roughnecks

The blast doors closed to the staging area and he walked with measured purpose as he observed the 200 troopers spread out in formation to either side, with the four Sentinels in the distance at the end of the formation, two on either side, facing each other with landing ramps down. The troopers wore full battle armor and had their blaster weapons across their chests. The field officers held their field swords edge in against their right or left shoulders and torsos. When he reached the middle of the formation, he stopped and presented himself and rotated around so all could hear him.

"I have just received word that we are jumping in on Port Haven! We are on the first wave, which means more enemies we get to kill. We will be uphold honor this day, do you get me!?"

"WE GET YOU SIR!" Thundered a reply through the ranks as one.

"The battle plan should be uploading to your helmet tactical visors now. To your ships!"

Officers with filed swords stepped out and ordered the troopers to their ships, with Sergeants helping in the process. Maximus coolly walked in between the two groups of soldiers and to his ship, the Kraken.

End music


************************

Music: Klendathu Drop


Maximus watched out the cockpit as the Sentinel dropped from the hanger bay and speed towards the planet. Other shuttles and escorts were headed that way too from the King II. For their escort of four shuttles, they were under escort by 6 Aggressive ReConnaissance-170 starfighters; a half squadron of Y-Wings flew out in front and below them as they raced to the surface. While Imperial TIEs were here and there in groups on patrol and were hastily engaging Jod forces, no heavy Imperial presence had yet to enforce itself upon the Jod. Maximus knew that would change soon. While a local group of four TIE Fighters made a run for their shuttles, their green lasers lancing out in front of Maximus' view outside the cockpit as they raced by in between the Y-Wing formation and the shuttles, the ReCon 170's kept the TIEs honest, two such 170s chasing the TIEs from behind.

As Port Haven filled the forward view point, Maximus turned and walked back into the troop bay. He briefed the soldiers verbally in his shuttle on their mission, recapping what their helmet visors had already told them. While all 54 SCA Troopers had the same variation of twelve faces, Maximus knew that they were still human, still afraid, and still this was their first battle. They might of been conditioned---been born--to not betray fear into their lives, but no amount of training or upbringing could fool a man such as Maximus MacArthur. He knew fear when he saw it. Because he was afraid...always. His cybernetic left metal hand reminded him daily of the fears of warfare and it costs.

"Listen up people! We have orders to pin down Imperial forces---and if possible---capture Port Haven from Imperial forces!" the Major was saying as he walked back to his seat, strapping in for the entrance into atmo, "We will be facing the bulk of centralized Imperial forces on the planet. Command will be dropping us three AT-TEs, six HAPs, and four AT-STs. Watch your spacing between your squads and check your forward fire on friendly units. Our time on ground will have to be short or we risk getting left behind. Do you get me?"

"We get you sir!" Answered the troopers in union.

Up ahead, out of the cockpit, the fiery flames of reentry licked at the cockpit. Soon, Maximus noticed, the flames and bouncing ride gave way to a blue sky quickly filling with friendly and enemy starfighters. It seemed both sides were out to destroy the other in complete detail.

As their convoy raced towards Port Haven, one of the ReCon 170's blew apart by enemy fire of a TIE that flew past. The debris of the destroyed 170 splashed up against the shields of the Sentinel, shaking the landing craft. As white clouds gave way, a distance speck of Port Haven could be seen down below. What Jod forces were in range were being harassed by what ground assets the Empire had that could fight in a anti-starfighter role from Port Haven.

One of the Y-Wings blew apart next up ahead, its wing pylon crumbling to the ocean below and the Y-Wing twirling out of control with smoke coming from the missing engine pod marking her path of travel. Soon though, the Y-Wings did their jobs and dropped some ordiance on the Imperial forces below, focusing on armored units and clearing the beach. As they neared, MacArthur could feel the landing craft's anti-ground weapons open up. Soon, the red light turned to green as they landed and the landing doors flopped open onto the wet sand. MacArthur lead the charge from the landing craft as the shuttle's anti-ground weapons pounded overhead, covering the troops' advance. The shuttles had landed in a jagged pattern along the beech---much of the Imperial sea fleet access already a smoking ruining at the beach with pre landing runs from the Y-Wings. As MacArthur lead the charge up the sandy beach, his visor kept updating friendly and enemy target acquisitions. Overhead, two friendly Y-Wings shot past and what were two AT-STs walking down the beech towards them turned into smoking ruin as they fell to the ground.

"MOVE UP THE BEECH! MOVE UP THE BEECH!" MacArthur ordered through his helmet comlink; what Imperial sentries were on the beech were already dead, retreating, or captured. They had clearly not expected an attack from the beech. But MacArthur knew that that also meant resistance would also be tighter and harder deeper inside the town itself, where building to building fighting would take up time, resources, and lives. All around his soldiers, other shuttles were dropping their promised armor support, that almost immediately rolled into action after being dropped. With the soldiers spreading out accordingly to cover the new armor, the Jod rushed forward. For now, air superiority was their's, and Imperial armor deeper inside the town contuined to take a beating from the Y-Wings. But sooner or later, the 5 Y-Wings and 5 remaining RecCon 170's would be challenged by Imperial air support.

Rushing up the beech, the Major got his forces to all lay down along a small ridge before the beech ended and the town started. The Jod armor support pounded Imperial positions from the rear as soldiers---including MacArthur---took prone shots of opportunity and watched Imperial Army Troopers fall under the skilled marksmanship. Intel had it that a small Stormtrooper unit with AT-ST support was in the town; they would be the hard ones to defeat this day.

Watching his second Imperial Army Trooper fall dead---this one not retreating like the last, but kneeling against the onslaught and holding his ground---MacArtuur ordered over the comm, "Teams One and Two Advance! Teams Three and Four, cover flank and move up to support! All armor forward!"

MacArthur got up, his armor's chest and pants covered in sand, and he ran ahead; part of Team One, Teams One and Two advanced like swords into the town center. while Teams Three and Four delayed slightly and then advanced to the sides and flanks of the town. The armor covered each advance accordingly and with good balance of firepower.

If anything, this would keep the bulk of Imperial forces pinned down in Port Haven long enough for Jason Lasso to be rescued and prevent the Imperials from sending reinforcements where needed. More Jod forces were landing behind MacArthur's troops on the beech now, starting to double their numbers. Smaller units started coming ashore at different parts along the surrounding land around Port Haven to take out different Imperial armor or listening posts as well.



TAG Sith-I-5



OOG: Stormtrooper identification numbers researched at SW1Ki.

 

GAME MASTER OOG: Please ignore the above post on September 15th, 2013, involving "Major Maxims MacArthur". It has been voided from the storyline.

 

IC: Captain Maximus MacArthur
Troop Bay, Kraken, Sentinel-class Landing Craft






The sweat from reentry into atmo dripped from Maximus' MacArthur's face as he looked down at the wrinkled flimsiplast. It was of his family---his son, sister, mother, and father. He smiled at the photo, now several years old; his sister had held his son in a loving embrace in the photo. His smile quickly disappeared and turned into a determined scowl as the pilot's "two minutes" rang out from the cockpit. Unlike most officers of his rank, MacArthur had done away with the field sword and had replaced it with a more functional A280 blaster rifle. It might of been his upbringing in the Jod Military Force that had encouraged such rebellion in the 35 year old Captain's heart. He had started out in the King's Army as any young man with a love for weapons would after high school. He had served for four years through the blood and horror that was the front lines of the Jod's war against the Beasts. The horrors of the rank and file regimental firing in the heat of a Beast charge, the hand-to-hand combat, the trenches...

It all, to this day, sent a cold shiver up his body. He had been changed in the regular army, as his family would tell him. He reenlisted into the Kingdom's Navy, after finding nothing of value or joy in the civilian life after a year out of the army, and joined the Naval Guard, quickly being accepted into the Naval Reconnaissance Trooper program for his prior army training. Maybe that year in civilian life had made him realize that the army had changed him; it didn't matter anymore, not now, anyways. He had done everything the NRTs asked of him; he soon found himself in with Royal Command special ops missions, where he found his calling. His army training and battle experience had harden him to war, to bloodshed, to killing. The NRTs had simply took what the army had crafted and made it better. He had heard it once said: "I was never more at home than I was in battle. Killing came easily to me." [1] And that, to MacArthur, could sum up his life maybe. However pitiful his life had been. Only his son had ever brought his restless soul to peace, his wandering eyes to rest, and his thirst satisfied. His son had given him a focus that nothing else, other then battle, could give him.

Finishing checking his A280 blaster rifle, MacArthur looked up and around the trooper bay. Two Sentinel-class Landing Craft---the Kraken and Cherub---transported his company of 100 Strategic Command Army Troopers...


TBC

 

IC: Jensen Visak
Location: Hanger

"That's fine, I'll show you where the turret is in a minute." The commander asked Kilo the same question and he decided to stick with the fighter. Jensen listened to the exchange between the engineer, commander, the captain, and the other pilot-then responded when wolf asked "Before we do that, we should refuel your fighter and check for repairs, I believe that is the reason you landed in the first place, was it not?"

Jerking his finger to his fighter, Jensen said, "My fighter could sure use a fill up though. I did a cursory check of the ship and it looks okay, but it could use a professionals eye to be sure there is nothing wrong that I missed. I tinker with it every now and then but I don't have the tools with me to do a full diagnostic." Speaking of my ship... He turned towards the ship and beckoned for Rex to come over to where he was. The droid tweetled a happy response and unlocked himself and the lifted himself out of the socket with his micro-repulsors and floated down to the floor. Many R2 units had the option of adding rocket boosters, but when you came from a rich family like Jensens, they rarely settled for anything other than the best. His father had decided to splurge of the more expensive micro-repulsors. They had the benefit of being quieter, and quite a bit safer that their rocket based counterparts.

As Rex rolled up to him he heard a clunk that reverberated through the hanger as a panel recessed and a rack holding some concussion missiles raised out of the ground near where the engineer had moved off to, prompting him to curse into his comlink. Jensen hid the smile that wanted to come to his face. Better not show myself laughing at him, he is going to be the one fixing my ship.

Jensen turned back towards the group, waiting for Wolf to show him the way to the turrets.

Tag: Falcon Sith-I-5 tyratoku

 

IC: Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Captain Jim Palso, hangar of the Delicate Delinquent
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


Williams felt no apology for the stream of invectives he was sending through the comlink to the Jod officer on the bridge. It was nothing personal though, just annoyance and resignation that they were all facing their demises sooner rather than later.

“I didn't even fire a shot out there, Commander. No need to re-arm, and I've barely used any fuel. Top me off, sure, but I don't think it'll take much." Kilo looked at Wolf and spread his hands wide. "So where am I off to, sir?”

“My fighter could sure use a fill up though. I did a cursory check of the ship and it looks okay, but it could use a professionals eye to be sure there is nothing wrong that I missed. I tinker with it every now and then but I don't have the tools with me to do a full diagnostic.” Jensen Visak advised.

Williams sighed into the comlink. “Alright Lieutenant, do it. Have non-essential and off-duty personnel gather in the main Hangar for evacuation, and get your shuttles and freighters from the rescue convoy back in here to pick them up. Williams out.” He put the comlink away and looked at Palso, Wolf, Kilo and Jensen. “Gentlebeings, we have an emergency.”

Palso looked back at him. “You mean apart from the all-out mission heading to rescue my brother?”

"Delicate Delinquent, The Eleventh Hour and two squadrons of Jod starfighters, X-Wings and ARC-170s are here to act as the backstop to that rescue mission. H.R.I. advise that there are three Imperial Star Destroyers waiting outside the system on alert status."

Jim looked down and around in curiousity as the floor thrummed with a subtle surge of power. “Hello. Something around here has been activated.”

"Three somethings." Williams clarified. "The ‘Delinquent is an interdictor. The only way we can effectively act as a backstop is to turn on the gravity well generators, and use them to pull those Imps out of hyperspace before they can reach the Port Haven blockade."

“Hold on wait.” The Corellian put up a palm, “You are saying three ImpStars are about to drop out of lightspeed on top of us?”

Behind him, Bugger emitted a long electronic farty sound.

Tag: Kilo, Jensen, Wolf

---

IC: General Perez, Captain Yavscout, the King-II battleship, Allegiance, and an ARC-170 fighter
Location: Port Haven space


The General, after navigating past several echelons of saluting staff and officers, and bouncing off the occasional wall as the ship rocked to the impacts from Imperial fire, he had managed to track the flame-haired female officer, Volkov.

She looked him up and down, clearly comparing her new-style dark grey tunic and trousers ensemble, with the reflective grey vertical band down the front right of her tunic, to the red top and black boot-tucked trousers of Royal Command Engineering that he rocked.

“Who dressed you?” She enquired at length, her tone dripping with sarcasm now that she wasn’t with the captain.

“Shaadd-up,” Perez drawled good-naturedly. “I’m with Royal Command. General Perez.”

The blood visibly drained from her face, and she immediately straightened, saluting him back. “General! My apologies. Lieutenant Commander Volkov.”

“At ease, Commander.” Both officers dropped their hands together. “You commed me about a special assignment?”

Gen- boomed over the tannoy.

Perez raised a finger, and looked up. This was either going to be for him, or someone called Jenny.

-eral Perez, is there any way we could use the reverse the DD's gravity well projectors to drag one or both of those ImpStars into Port Haven's oceans? Communicate with the DD directly, Stakes out.

Perez looked sharply down at the slightly shorter Volkov. “I’ve been in the hangar since boarding. What ImpStars?”

She told him.

“Even if that could work, there is no way that ship could live long enough to make it happen. Not against an ImpStar, let alone three.” Perez went silent, lifting his modified PAC20 visual wrist comlink, and after some button presses, yellow holograph of Immobiliser 418 plans sprang up, illuminating his face while he studied the details.

Volkov had drifted away to oversee the nearest gunner crew, before the holo changed to that of a Light-class destroyer.

After a few moments, Perez extinguished the second image too, and called Stakes back. “Captain, good idea. Wrong ship. The Light-class destroyers, with their tractor projectors, and ability to enter the planets’ atmosphere, are what we need for the plan to work. The Allegiance would need to disable the SD first though, and we might only be able to do one at a time.” He waited for the captain to respond.

* * * *
Space, nearer the House of Vimal

Yav’s starfighter was coming into range of the two missiles crossing the black skies towards the Jod destroyer, but even so, he was more than pleased when another friendly turned up in front of him and hit one of the fast-moving projectiles with several shots, but not so much when the pilot broke off.

“Safety, Cochise. Took some pot shots at one of the missiles. Good luck.”

“Safety, copy.” The elf sent back. Has he never heard of riding the kill? he wondered.

In that moment, as his own targeting sensors whistled a lock, and his own lasers struck the shielded missile, did he remember that with his Naboo Security Force training, he had more in common with his Kingdom of Jod wingmen, than much of the lowlife scum seeking a Merc' paycheque.

The missile bucked and exploded, glowing debris scattering in their path, bouncing of his forward shields as he steered after the second slim white rocket.

The House of Vimal’s flanks filled his vision as they and the torpedo rapidly closed on the cruiser.

Beyond her, the larger form of the Allegiance could be seen coming round the curvature of the planet, closing rapidly on the duel between the Imperial heavy cruiser and the Jod destroyer.

Long lances of heavy fire flashed far overhead and to the left as the new capital ship engaged at range, exchanging fire with the midget SD. Abruptly, the Jod guns fell silent, the battleship enduring Imperial hits while steering to the far left.

Yav ignored all this, depressing his trigger to walk bright scarlet bolts into the shielded target.

“Lead from Two.”

“Lead, copy.”

“Allegiance preparing to Alpha Strike the Imperial cruiser. Strongly recommend we break off and clear ether to avoid blast damage and debris.”

Yav had visions of the Authority's fiery sacrifice against three SDs at the Greater Javin. “What in Oseon is an Alpha Strike? Is she gonna ram her?”

“No no no no.”

“No?”

“No. She’s gonna hit it with everything she’s got, all in one go.”

Yav frowned. That did not sound pleasant. Ahead of them, the final torp pulled ahead and slammed hard into the House of Vimal's flanks, visually impacting the hull, for a golden inverted 'L' suddenly appeared in the blue-grey armour, venting atmospheric vapour!

“Sorry Vimal, we could not get that last missile!” The elf transmitted with the forlorn regret of a failed rescue. He sighed softly, toggling the comm back to his squadron channel. “Break, break break. We’ll join the planetside mission. Into that atmosphere, Boys!”

His ARC led the other two in banking away from the listing 'Vimal, diving hard for the cloud cover.

Tag: Stakes, Volkov, Cochise

 

IC: Salmakk Neot
Crashed Shuttle, Port Haven

Salmakk watched Mary dart off across the ‘runway’, her borrowed flightsuit flapping as she kept her balance on a particularly long log. He could hear repulsor tanks coming from the snapping of the trees. He didn’t know how many there were or how much time he had. He was about to run across the same log Mary did when a thought ran through his head.

He pulled off a couple proton grenades from his belt and one from his backpack and set the timer on them for fourteen seconds. The Mon Cal turned, armed, and then tossed the grenades back into the shuttle. One grenade was lobbed into the armory, the other into cockpit, and the last one into what he thought was the engineering access on the shuttle, not that he stayed to see where they landed. As soon as the last one left his hands he pivoted and ran toward the shuttle. About 90 meters, or so he estimated. He’d need all that fourteen seconds.

One, Two, Three...

Stride for stride the Mon Cal raced across the same log Mary had, doing his best to keep his balance. He saw troopers coming to the edge of the woods.

Four, Five, Six...

Out of the corner of Salmakk’s eye he saw one of the tanks working its way through the jungle to the ‘runway’ from his right. Lasers from the incoming troopers bracketed him but he still kept sprinting undaunted.

Seven, Eight, Nine...

He was almost across the log. He raced as fast as his old muscles would go. He could feel the contents of his backpack sloshing around and his commandeered E-11 was dangling from its sling and flopping around. Must keep running. Must make it to that shuttle.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen...

Salmakk pumped his legs up and down, one foot in front of the other. He worked his arms as hard as he could and he made it to the shuttle opening and dove into it.

BOOOOM

A hole punched through one of the outer wall of the crashed shuttle that was then overshadowed by the much bigger explosion that came from the engines at the back of the ship. The grenade, as he had hoped, that he threw into the engineering access part of the ship had caused the fuel cells to ignite and also explode taking pretty much all of the ship with it. The new shuttle was mostly out of the blast radius, but it showered the 90 or so meters between the Nu-class shuttle and the crashed one that was now up in flames with fiery debris. Salmakk had hoped that this would create enough confusion on the battlefield for the shuttle to escape clean from the ground forces.

“Time to go,” he told the soldiers in the shuttle as he stood up and then sat down next to Mary on the bench, noting she had stripped the flightsuit off. He worked the backpack off from between him and the bulkhead and put it down at his feet.

“You okay?” He would have added a ‘dear’ to the end of that sentence but he was out of breath. He leaned back and relaxed his shoulders trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible. “I’m too old for this sithspit."

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Wolf
Delicate Delinquent, Whendyll System outskirts.

"Three somethings." Williams clarified. "The ‘Delinquent is an interdictor. The only way we can effectively act as a backstop is to turn on the gravity well generators, and use them to pull those Imps out of hyperspace before they can reach the Port Haven blockade."

“Hold on wait.” The Corellian put up a palm, “You are saying three ImpStars are about to drop out of lightspeed on top of us?”

Wolf raised an eyebrow in Williams direction as he felt his heat drop. "They're walking into a trap. Better to learn to work the gravity wells and fast. If the Destroyers get the drop on our forces near Port Haven, not many will be walking away," he said with a frown as he silently cursed the House of Vimal for jumping in blindly. "Too bad we don't have any one on those destroyers. I remember one time, Skywalker rescued Amidala on Grievous's flagship and manually handwired the hyperspace coordinates to crash into the moon. The commando droids never knew what hit them. That was quite the show."

Wolf stood next to Rex we they watched the shuttle Skywalker flew away as Fress told everyone to belay the order to fire. He was confused at first until the large battleship attempted to make the hyperspace jump. It turned towards the moon. He raised an eyebrow as Skywalker told everyone he had this under control and he could just imagine the what did you do this time expression on Obi-Wan's face. "Get the feeling the general handwired the coordinates in?"

"We don't have to worry about this ship anymore," Rex commented with a small grin. "Skywalker has taken care of this night mare for us."

Wolf watched as the ships engines flared and jumped right into the moon.

Wolf turned towards Jensen and gestured him to follow him to the turrets. "Let's get you set up," he walked towards the turbo lift that would take them to the turrets.

SWBob, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Fress Colias
Whendyll outskirts onboard the Allegiance

"Scorch acknowledges. Ready to rock."

Fress nodded as she heard Siera and Atin acknowledge at the same time. She planned to take at least two others down there with her and Atin was definitely one individual she had in mind. The Crusader would be more adapt to handling the atmosphere better then the fighters would. "Stand by Scorch."

“I’m strapped in and ready to go when you are Cap.”

Fress smiled as she felt her cheeks heat up when she heard his voice. And the kiss she shared with Mac. It was nothing she never experienced before and made the kisses with Darin seem not as exciting. Josch was definitely the one she was meant to be with. She listened to the orders as she felt vibrations underneath her seat. Stakes was making a run for it she thought as she tuned into the Jod's military channel. She listened to the orders and knew it was dangerous for her and Josch to disembark at the moment. They ran the risk of getting caught up in the lasers. She hit her comlink and punched in Josch's personal comlink. "We should stay here at the moment, Stakes has everything firing everything at the blockade. If we left now we run a high risk of getting caught up in their attack run. We should wait until they send in their fighters for a defense screen."

Bardan_Jusik, CPL_Macja, Bravo, Sith-I-5, kommando104, SWBob, tyratoku

 

IC: Captain Maximus MacArthur
Troop Bay, Kraken, Sentinel-class Landing Craft


Maximus MacArthur's relaxed back into his seat as the Sentinel started shaking with incoming enemy fire. He listened to the comm chatter from the cockpit as the pilots flew them down to the combat zone below.
Radio Chatter

As he listened to the radio traffic, he looked around the troop bay. These were clones---the best Clone templates in the known galaxy and someone could argue even better then the Jango Fett clone templates from the Clone Wars---but they were still raw, fresh troops. Straight from training; the best training the galaxy had to offer, the best twelve Queen's Guardsmen in the galaxy with genetic "enhancements" to further effectiveness. But everything in the galaxy couldn't prepare these troops for the "real thing".

Taking out his face paint, Maximus painted black diagonal lines down his face. Soon, the co-pilot looked back and raised two fingers, "TWO MINUTES!"

Maximus gave a thumbs up to the pilot and said out-loud to his troops, "Ready on the Two gentlemen!" He yelled out, a thunderous "Hurrah" respond from the troopers as they strapped on their helmets, did final checks on weapons and equipments, and gave words of encouragement or did final "mission detail" checks with their comrades.

Before putting on his helmet, the good Captain drew out a flask of rum and took a long sip, before putting it back into his pouch. He put on his helmet, the sensors and communications activating; he strapped on his helmet and could see the sensor read-out, his company status and immediate squad status, his heart and other urgent health status, and his communications network. A simple push of the tong up against the comm mike in front of his mouth could toggle which function he needed active, instead of passive, access to.

MUSIC: Bad to the Bone

Two minutes always went by too quick. Soon the red light went green and the safety harnesses flew up; freed from their entrapment, the Captain lined up behind four other troopers as the landing craft landed with a thud and the ramp crashed down. The enemy blaster fire flew at them with angry intent; several bolts hit the ramp around them as the Sentinel returned fire with it's ground supression weaponry to cover the troops. But even that impressive display of firepower wasn't enough as a trooper just in front and to the Captain's right went down like a weathered leaf to the ground with a head-shot. His body rolled down the ramp and to the side as his comrades stepped off the ramp and into the firestorm.

The Captain moved up the beach under the thunderous THUD-THUD-THUD-POP-POP-POP-POP-POP-THUD-THUD-THUD of the Sentinel's covering fire. The sand up ahead and the cliff side blew apart with violent beauty; blood and other debris were mixed in with the explosions, but that didn't seem to halt a determined---and certanlty surpirsed---Imperial force. It was clear the Imperials had determined the beach to be their rear and any danger from the jungles the primary threat. A correct assumption, considering Port Haven's jungle predators and a lack of an invasion force from space.

Until now. It was clear, however, the Imperials had hastily moved two Imperial Army Trooper platoons and at least two S-1 FireHawke Heavy Repulsortanks with, what appeared to be, two AT-STs and a Stormtrooper platoon rushing up from the rear on the double quick. What cover the Imperial Army Troopers had were the already dug defensive sentry fox holes and several other natural objects. But other then that, it was an a slight uphill charge over open sand beach for both the Imperials and the Jod. The Imperials had quickly set up the E-Webs in somewhat of a good position with one E-Web each covering the extreme flanks / ends of their thin fire line along the crown of the beach The tanks set up in the middle of the line roughly, with a few squads of infantry separating the two tanks; the infantry all along the line, in general, either keeled or lie prone as they fired, to reduce their profile. A few troopers stood full length and fired from the shoulder. Along the cliffs the Imperials had two already stationed E-Web nests covering a wide stretch of the beach. The handful of sentries that were on the beach already either hunkered down in their fox holes for the fight or tried in vain to run for the hastily assembled firing line at the crest of the beach.

A loud explosion reported above and the flaming hulk of a Jod Y-Wing flew above the battle zone with smoke trailing and crashed in the jungle behind Port Haven with a thunderous explosions and flame. Soon, however, one of the Imperial tanks exploded, debris flying in all directions; a ARC 170 shooting above across the beach.

For his part, Maximus witnessed all this happen in a matter of seconds. He knew the E-Webs in the cliff would lay down a suppressing fire that would dismantle his rank and file to his right and the E-Webs up ahead on the beach crest would slow his advance and together, the fire would box his company in. Out-numbered, maybe, but not out-gunned.

Throwing himself into the sand, the well-armored Sentinels continuing to lay down a thunderous fire that would make any good general pea his pants, the Captain fired off a few quick shots from his blaster rifle, kicking up some sand as he did, to his forward. While two shots missed, the third caught a Imperial trooper in the shoulder and spun him around to the ground. Troopers all around him were taking prone or kneeling positions as they took up concreting their fire to counter that of the Imperials.

Maxims keyed his command channel, "Leviathan Company landedon Port Haven Beach; encountering heavy enemy resistance along beach head with enemy E-Webs and tanks. Copy, command?"

The comm reply came over quickly, "Command to Leviathan. Command copies. Armor support landing immediately."

As their only saving grace started to depart the beach head---the Sentinels---armor support was flown in almost immediately behind them, dropping 3 TX-130T fighter tanks and 3 HAPs on the beach. Their firepower immediately impacted the battle, if only for shock and awe and not aim at first. The 3 Hammer Strike-class Landing Craft dropped several vollies of firepower on the enemy fire line, before flying off. The last Imperial tank exploded in brilliant display, leaving the E-Webs. The Imperial fire seemed to slacken a bit---as Imperial officers seemed to hesitate on what to do---but then the Imperial fire picked up again. The Imperials were going to hold.

Behind the Imperials, the Stormtroopers and their AT-STs were in firing range---the AT-STs had been firing for a while now as they sped across the sand---and they started to join the fight. What their goal was, Maximus did not know. Their addition---even Stormtroopers---seemed to be a last ditch suicidal effort against superior firepower, especially as one of the E-Web nests on the crest blew apart as one of the Fighter Tanks zeroed in and a single shot blew the entrenchment apart. Or were the Stormtroopers to help organize a withdraw to a better defensive ground deeper inland and towards town? Whatever their reason, as the armor showed up and advanced---the three Fighter tanks taking up a line spread apart behind the infantry and 2 HAPs maintaining flanking positions to each side of their advance with the last HAP taking up a rear vanguard supporting position---the SCA Troopers advanced with their superior firepower, pushing a staggering Imperial Army firing line backwards. The Stormtroopers seemed to hold against impossible odds---their AT-STs being a menace beyond a nightmare---as the Imperial Troopers started to break discipline here and there, leaving gaps in their fire.

Getting up, Maximus put his rifle butt to his shoulder, aimed down the sights, and fired steady, aimed shots into the breaking Imperial line, as he advanced one step at a time. A rocket fired from one of his troopers flew out of the line and took a chunk of Imperial Army Troopers with it's explosion as it hit the beach crest. The tanks combined their fire and focused on the AT-STs, while much of the Imperial Army Troopers were either too few in numbers and isolated from further support or had broke rank and file and retreated. A handful of Imperial Army Troopers in isolated pockets of the once thick firing line remained, with only one of the E-Webs returning on the far flank of the line; the last E-Web on the cliff side gave way to a mortar from the rear vanguard HAP and was silenced.

All around them, Jod air support and the two circling Sentinels kept other Imperial forces around Port Haven hunkered down and unable to send help in force. Other Jod landing craft were deploying troops or armored units in other areas around Port Haven to keep Imperial forces preoccupied and unable to reinforce the beach advance and unable to reinforce the search for Jason Lasso. A course, the plan was to never hold Port Haven, rather deploy several companies of SCA Troopers and armor support to hold Imperial forces in check and then, under heavy air support and planetary bombardment (once the Jod capital ships were in position), withdraw back to Landing Craft and retreat.


TAG Sith-I-5
OOG: Sith, I'm not looking to drag this out. Much of the Imperial force would be facing East, North, and South into the jungle (including armor), while the West is primarily left unguarded as the rear to the ocean. I figure Jod air power and other Jod landing forces would be distracting those Imperial forces from reinforcing the beach landing to the West.

A quick in and out op, so we can continue the storyline and get everybody back together at Actualize Station. Also, please, most of Captain Maximus MacArthur's company has to survive. I want to tag with you for a few posts on this, to flush out the company and troops, so just FYI.

 

OOG: I am happy for you to do both sides of this beach engagement, although we should have some of those boat things able to come up behind the Maximus' beach team. I can RP personnel in town.

 

IC: Captain Maximus MacArthur
Troop Bay, Kraken, Sentinel-class Landing Craft


You couldn't stay on the beach; if you did, you'd die. You couldn't retreat or you'd die. The only way was forward. And for a few brief, terrifying moments, that seemed like death too. The two AT-STs were clearly manned by a skilled crew and the Stormtroopers had clearly worked with the AT-STs before. They put up a brilliant counter attack, the AT-STs unloading a unnerving barrage of firepower at the Jod infantry, ignoring the heavy armor for as long as they could. Any commanding officer's dream for such a counter attack, but one that was ultimately doomed to a lack of supporting units.

The only thing to do was to push the advance against all logic. Running and firing, kneeling or stopping briefly to get aim when they could, the SCA Troopers advanced, using their raw expert marksmen skills against expert marksmen skills. It was, for the briefest of moments, a battle of elite veterans against elite rookies. And then, all too soon, it was over. First one AT-ST, then the other. Even hardened Stormtroopers, and the few remaining Imperial Army Troopers, could see the death ling in wait f any more fighting. They withdrew, best they could under harsh conditions and heavy enemy armor. Their wounded and dead lay in their retreat. The Stormtroopers were shot dead from a distance, for no stormtrooper would dare surrender. The Imperial Army Troopers gave up more easily, death for the Emperor not being a priority in life.

Waving his troops forward, MacArthur made it up to the crest of the beach where he could finally see Port Haven itself. However brief it may be, Jod air superiority was pounding the holy heavens out of Imperial positions. It seemed that the defense of Port Haven had become a secondary mission objective for the Imperials, the majority of fighting---even for the Jod---seeming to be off in the distance skies as Jod and Imperial starfighters tangled in the planet's blue skies. The few TIEs on station at Port Haven were not having an effective defense.

However tempting it would be to rush the town, MacArthur knew such a order had not be given. Instead, they were to "hold" Imperial forces at Port Haven. Ordering his troops and armor to better defensive and long range attack positions, he ordered the heavy armor and any trooper with rockets to unloaded on identified Imperial targets in the town from their position. Moving closer to the settlement itself, the Jod forces unloaded a holy fire on Imperial positions. From behind, however, Imperial fighter boats had different goals in mind as they started a rear counter offensive. Seeing this, Maximus had one of the tanks and two HAPs with a handful of infantry to defend the rear. The range of the heavy armor and the infantry support provided a secure security blanket as Imperial boats couldn't move past the firepower.

Checking his chrono, Maximus eyed the town. They had, maybe, ten minutes. But ten minutes was enough.

"Command, Leviathan Company."

"Command, go Leviathan."

"Beach head secure. Encountering light Imperial resistance to rear by water front. Engaging. Heavy armor and rockets engaging town from distance on confirmed Imperial targets."

"Solid copy..."


TBC

 

IC: Analysts Mike Tozzi, and Gibbons (Imperial Intelligence - Malastare), Mekuun Hoverscout
Location: Port Haven, western coastline


The Imperial Intelligence analyst put as much effort as he could in getting the hovercraft back to the beach, so that the Emperors Hand could get back in touch with her ground forces in the town, as soon as possible.

He peered up through the water-splashed ceraglass windscreen at two formations of rapidly descending or lifting Sentinel-class landing craft, and figured it must be more Imperial Army.

His older partner, Gibbons, looked through the right-hand port, and tapped Tozzi on the arm. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Tozzi looked that way, to see an Amphibion boat painted in mottled yellow-and-green camouflage, the anti-personnel laser tower sitting incongruously at the rear, angling in to come alongside them, it’s side wake swaying the speeding hovercraft.

The comm board crackled. “Ahoy there, EH1. There is trouble at the beach. Those Sentinels are not Imperial.”

“EH1, copy.” Tozzi cut power to the accelerator fans, slowing the craft. “Ma’am,” he called back to Mara Jade, “There are enemy units arriving in strength at the beach. Probably not the best idea to charge in with you aboard. How do you want to play this?”

The boat commander was in a talkative mood. “ Strange. There was no warning from Cimmerian.”

“Well, they did say an enemy destroyer had jumped in, and was launching craft.” Tozzi pointed out, speaking into his voice pickup.

“Going after Lasso.” Gibbons chimed in. His eyes widened. “Holy Sith, this is to keep us from throwing everything into finding him!”

Tag: Maximus' beach forces

---

IC: Corporal Johnny Morris (SCA), Mary Formal
Location: Port Haven, shuttle crash site


Standing on the Trixie Belle's boarding ramp, the SCA trooper watched the Mon Cal standing opposite dither so much that he wondered if he was going to have to go over and get him himself!

Trees were now being pushed over onto the runway, and he could see flashes of the grey tank's flanks among the flailing leaves and branches.

An Imperial trooper, but not a stormtrooper, stepped into sight, close to the side of the Mon Cal, who seemed not to have noticed, instead rolling something into the crashed craft.

Johnny brought his A280 blaster rifle up, and fired at the Imp', catching him in the midriff and ripping him almost in half, splashing the broad leaves behind him with dark steaming liquid.

The alien was running across the trunk now, less ungainly than the woman had, but still.

More troops slipped into view, and immediately opened up in the only person they could see moving, green bolts from their E-11s flashing around the Mon Cal, while Morris dropped to one knee to provide covering fire, another scarlet bolt taking down a trooper.

The thin tapered tank, that Johnny now recognised as an S-1 Firehawke, nosed almost fuly into view, midway between, and perpendicular to the Trixie' and the crashed craft, her medium blaster cannon starting to track the Mon Cal, while the larger, longer gun was much more pondorous with its movement.

The alien dove past him onto the ramp, his backpack knocking Johnny's gun arm at the elbow, sending a guaranteed head shot astray to punch a shallow dent in the S-1's side.

"Drokk!" Morris rose and turned in after Neot, who was already scrambling up the dark steps into the passenger area.

BOOOOM!

The shockwave from the exploding shuttle slammed him into the steps, which in turn jumped to meet him as the Nu-class shuttle rose underneath him, pressing up under his supine form as the ramp and airlock blast sealed behind him, plunging the cramped atrium into darkness.

Up on the bench, Mary looked anxiously towards the exit as Salmakk's head appeared, and the fish alien almost collapsed next to her.
"Time to go," he said to the visor'd trooper, overheard by the pilot.

"Going. Shields raised." The pilot acknowledged calmly.

She could feel the rescue craft lifting hard under her, and the banking hard to the left, the deck slanting under them.

She saw his eyes register that she had changed out of the horrid flightsuit. Despite the situation, she wondered if he liked what he saw, or if only the female of his species had any interest.

Almost instinctively, Mary tidied her hair with the fingers on one hand, while the other grabbed for one of several olive-dyed rough fabric handholds.

"You okay?" He was clearly out of breath, working the backpack off from between him and the bulkhead and put it down at his feet.

"Been better. You?"

He leaned back and relaxed his shoulders trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible. "I’m too old for this sithspit."

She could not help but smile at that.

Tag: Salmakk Neot

 

IC: Aurora Cradmoon(npc), Delicate Delinquent main hangar.
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


Her pale features made even more pallid by her long black hair, and with Lieutenant Zotoman's furious tones ringing in her ears, Aurora determined not to speak to anyone as she trotted out the doors of the TIE hangar into the Deck Four corridor, trailed by her R2 unit, Silver.

She hesitated to allow Wolf to exit the Main Hangar, and proceed past the incongruous mounted black laser dish of the Atgar 1.4 FD laser cannon that guarded the quiet hallway, then slipped into the Main Hangar behind them, to find herself facing Palso, another newcomer in some serious-looking black-and-orange power armour, a male with long blonde hair,Chief Williams, and a trio of droids.

Behind them were a pair of starfighters, noses facing the magcon field, and a hexagonal metal rack of torpedoes.

Cradmoon stopped dead on seeing them, then, not giving anyone a chance to ask why she was still in her cream-colored animal print jim-jams, she made a beeline for the fuel tank at the nearside rear corner of the bay, and dragged the black fuel hose over to the starfighters.

"Alright, which one needs refuelling?" She looked apologetically at each one.

Tag: Kilo

 

IC: Kilo Typhon
Location: Delicate Delinquent Hangar

Kilo watched the other men around him converse and waited for anybody to address him. From the sound of it, the need for him to go outside and assist in the defense of the ship was growing with every passing moment. Yet, nobody expressly told him where to go or what to do. As the silence towards him stretched on, he looked down and began to inspect his armor.

As far as he knew, his grandfather never actually had to wear it in actual battle, yet somehow there were pieces of paint chipped off, there were scuffs and scratches, and while overall it looked good, it was nowhere near brand-new-condition status. The inconsistency about what he knew and did not know troubled him.

Doors into the hangar bay slid open and a pale skinned and dark-haired female strode inside. She wore a light brown spotted..set of sleeping clothes? No, she must be from somewhere that wears...that...all the time, Kilo thought to himself.

She stopped dead in her tracks the moment she walked through and saw them, but before anybody could speak she rushed by them toward a fuel tank nearby.

"Alright, which one needs refuelling?" she asked as she came back with a long hose in her hand.

Kilo raised his hand. "Uh, I could do with some fuel, Princess sleepy pants," he then turned toward Captain Palso and the others. "And once that's done, I can head out with you and your ship. Let's get this thing going."

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Aurora Cradmoon, Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Samantha Irisa, inside and outside the Delicate Delinquent
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


Aurora blushed furiously and nodded as the armoured one raised a hand, and said, "Uh, I could do with some fuel, Princess sleepy pants."

Chief Williams, a big question in his eyes, directed her to the orange-and-black X-Wing, to which she nodded gratefully, and pulled the hose over to the relevant space craft. She had an X-Wing too, courtesy of the Mercs, so she had no trouble finding the interface to lock it on to.

In hindsight, now that she had focussed on it, she realised that the T-65, and one of the astrodroids, had a clear thematic connection with the hand-raiser's armour.

Looking round, she could see that Silver had rolled over to the fuel tank in the corner, and was watching her.

"Go, Silver."

The armoured fellow turned toward Captain Palso and the others. "And once that's done, I can head out with you and your ship. Let's get this thing going."

Palso nodded. "Right." He turned to his own droids. "Check our own torpedo supply, and if we need more, get these loaded."

The bipedal droid, Walking Library, raised a hand and tapped his own temple in a curiously human gesture. "We have the necessary information up here, Captain. We have capacity for more missiles. Come on, Bugger." Walking Library turned and pushed lightly on the missile rack, which turned out to be wheeled, towards the Hunk of Junk.

Carefully, Cradmoon lifted the hose up of the floor, and raised it for the droids to pass underneath, then cautiously lowered it again, keeping a close eye on the business end attaced to the fighter.

"I had wanted to hold you back, Captain." Williams put in. "Use you as an evacuation transport. We have eighteen gunners and command staff, which will be the last ones to evac, if we could not survive." He looked round, "Strange. I would have thought crew would have started to filter in, by now."

"I think you mis-understand a person's relationship to the ship where he lives," Palso pointed out, shaking his head. "With capital ships, the crew are not likely to evacuate at a moments notice every time danger rears its head. They have had a night, downtime, here. Once they have made the decision to accept it as their home, I expect they will want to go to bat to defend it."

"Done." The pyjama'd girl unlatched the fuel hose, replaced th cap on the hull, and trotted over to the second fighter. "I'll top this one up, too."

Tag: Kilo, Jensen

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Sub, waters near Port Haven

As the Skipper went through his back and forth with the Jod officer someone cried out "Look!" and pointed up into the sky. It was a star ship, and it was soon followed by several others. With a blink of an eye the rangefinder on the left side of his buy'ce swung down into Taab's field of vision and magnified the image. They were unmistakably vessels from the Kingdom of Jod, though Taab didn't know their designations. He ensured that his bucket's systems were not recording any of this as his agreement with the King's Navy had spelled out. A moment later the Skipper confirmed Taab's preliminary identification of the star ships.

"YEAH!!!!! Kingdom of Jod Light-class Destroyer, baby!"

Taab smiled behind his T-Visor. The Skipper was certainly an emotional man, and not afraid to show it in front of his men. With another eye blink his rangefinder swing back up into it's "travel" position as Taab awaited the next order that would surely come. "Get us under the water! We're a sitting duck here! Someone get the Sentinel on the line, we'll need a pick up."

Taab nodded and then yelled out. "You heard the Captain, clear the deck and take us down! Make your depth 257 meters." That should put them deep enough to evade random detection by both Mark I eyeballs and sensors. Unless of course someone was actively searching for submerged objects. Even then, finding them would be difficult. Glancing about he saw that everyone was below decks, save
the Captain. Well it was his honor to be the last one topside. Taab nodded to him before sliding down the ladder.

Once into the interior of the vessel Taab removed his bucket. Head space inside the submersible was at a premium, and he didn't want his bucket smashing into anything vital that ran along the low "deck" above them. He made his way to the comm station as Lasso made his way down the ladder and closed the hatch behind him. Ghevar gave him a blue furred thumbs up from the comm station. "The Luck's Gamble has been notified, they are awaiting our next signal to link up with us."

Lasso issued more orders as he entered the bridge.

"Take us to the river. We can use the jungle and mountains as coverage for the Sentinel to lift us out. We pop the bay doors, get a line to the tank, and ride the tank up. We'll need to make it quick. Taab, take our new tech and make sure the tank is ready and secure. Load her insides full with ammo and equipment from the sub we could use on the Johnny Boy..." There was more, but it didn't concern Taab at the moment. He gestured to Ghevar with a nod of his head and the two of them headed aft.

Along the way Taab growled quietly. "You gather together anything that could be useful on a Marauder class corvette or as spares for a generic starfighter squadron. I'll concentrate on small arms and ammo." The Pho Ph'eahian voiced his agreement and when the pair arrived at the armored vehicle in the cargo bay they each went to work.

Taab began loading. More ammunition than small arms, though those too certainly made the cut. Looking over the supply of warheads he found a set that were compatible with his jetpack and selected one that he loaded on the spot. The rest he packed away aboard the tank. The lights had gone dim in the cargo bay as power usage throughout the ship was brought to minimal levels. Looking over to Ghevar he saw the four armed being loading on not only spare parts for the fighters, but dehydrated rations as well. "Mercenaries can't fight if they're hungry," he explained. Taab couldn't disagree so he shrugged and let the being be.

The interior of the tank wasn't very big, so it didn't take long for the pair to fill it to the bursting point with small arms, spare parts ammo and yes, the rations. With that task accomplished Taab sent Ghevar back up to the bridge to inform the Skipper that they were finished. "I'll button up the tank," he finished as Ghevar moved back forward. Hopefully the rescue force would break through to them soon.

TAG: Bravo

---

IC: Atin Taab
Crusader, Outskirts of the Whendyll system, Standing by to launch from the Allegiance.

"Stand by Scorch."

Stand by? Stand by! Atin shook his head. Did Fress not realize that this was the Captain down there? Did she not know that his father was with him? They didn't have time to stand by. Now was the time to move, to attack and ride to the rescue of their commanding officer. Atin's hand moved to the center console, and the throttle located there. If she didn't have the gett'se ("courage") to get the squadron under way, well maybe he would have to prod her. He was sure the others would follow if the Crusader launched from the battleship's hanger bay.

But his hand paused there for a moment, calming himself. Buir (father) had always told him that it was important to follow orders when part of a larger unit. Atin didn't like it, but he stood down, dropping his hand back off the throttle. He called back to Jeth in the lower turret. "We're on standby, Firecracker must have something in mind." A loud "harumph" was all that could be heard over the internal comm channel to the Arkanian followed by muttering that Atin couldn't make out. Even Atin could see that there was no love lost between the two officers.

Atin didn't have time to try to figure that out right now. They could launch at any moment. Instead he switched from the internal comm system to an the external one the squadron was on. "Roger that Firecracker, standing by." he was sure the exasperation and eagerness to get under way was evident in his voice, but at the moment he didn't care. That was his buir down there, and if the LT made them wait much longer, well then Atin would go off on his own to rescue him.

TAG: Falcon.

 

IC: Fress Colias
Allegiance whendyll system outskirts.

Fress couldn't help shake the feeling that Atin will attempt to go on his own. He didn't have the same information she did concerning the battle and with the Merc's frequency already being tapped once. That only made it that much more difficult to relay orders. When they make it out of this one, she planned to have to have the frequency re-encoded. Atin was sixteen and she remembered her time at that age, always wondering why her superiors held everyone back when lives depended on them. It was for good reason if nothing else to keep the forces intact.

Due to her recklessness she already lost an entire squadron that way, she was not about to lose another one in a similar situation. "Saber, encode a message to Atin. Mercs frequency has been compromised. Wait for my signal and don't do anything brash. Stakes plans an alpha strike meaning, everything the cruisers have will be firing at the blockade. To go now, we will only get in the way and risk being shot down by friendly fire. We only have one shot at this to get planet side, let's make it count."

Saber acknowledged as soon as he sent the message. "Mac, as soon as Stakes signals his squadrons to move in, that will be our cue to go. we'll use the chaos as cover to get planet side. If we can or at least meet the Luck's gamble to provide an escort away from Port Haven. The rest of the squadron is to dust as many fighters as possible after the Alpha Strike. Get ready to go."

Saber acknowledged as he encoded a transmission to the squadron relaying the orders.

"Guardian squadron, this is Guardian Lead, after the Alpha Strike we move in to help clear the path for Lasso and company to make their get away. I want Scorch and Mac to join me planet side to help with the escort. Wait for my signal."

IC: Thomas Rompkins
Snap Dragon Whendyll system

"Put all batteries on alert, approaching the cruiser, Captain Stakes has ordered an Alpha strike."

"Yes sir, firing range in twenty seconds," the communications officer answered as he counted down the seconds.

IC: Siera Trasks

Siera glanced down and noticed Fress's orders causing her to frown. She was thankful the Snap Dragon allowed her to board and refuel her Z-95 head hunter. Fress held the squadron back but she wasn't sure why until she mentioned the word Alpha Strike. That only meant they planned on firing everything they had at the blockade and to go now would only be considered suicide. Now it made sense.

"Standing by Firecracker," Siera acknowledged with a tight smile.


tag all, Bardan_Jusik, Bravo, CPL_Macja

 

IC: Havoc Neb
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven


Havoc raised the landing craft from the coverage of the forest and flew as unexpectedly as he could. All around in the distance, starfighters of different types blew each other out of the sky for a prize at the pirate base. Ler pointed a hand out towards the river as a sub raised itself from the depths. Havoc nodded as he angled the shuttle back under the cover of the trees as they descended towards the sub.

"Go open the landing ramp," Havoc said to the droid, "We'll use the magnetic clamps to secure the tank to our underside."

As the droid disappeared to accomplish his task, Havoc could see cargo bays open on the topside of the sub as he brought the landing craft into a hover. Lasso emerged from one of the hatches and started waving Havoc down as the good Captain unstrung his A280 Blaster Rifle and started to secure the area around them. Other members of the team started to emerge from the tank and Havoc lowered a strong industrial lift line from the shuttle down to the tank, watching as Taab went about securing it. In the shuttle looking below, Havoc couldn't hear much other then see the movement of hands from the Mercs and Jod Security Force. In this moment, as Havoc hovered in air, he knew he and the Mercs were vulnerable. In the ongoing dogfight around them in the distance, Havoc hoped a lonely looking Imperial shuttle wouldn't attract too much attention by the causal glance, which would give them an edge. Unless an on looker did a specific sensor scan, they should have a few moments until anyone caught onto the fact that they were not part of the Imperial force.

While Havoc couldn't hear the details of the exchange, the handshake between Lasso and the Port Haven founder showed that the parting of ways between Mercs and the several remaining Port Haven Security Force members was peaceful. Leaving their short lived comrades behind, Havoc watched as the Mercs climbed into the tank. As the tank was lifted up, the sub bay's doors closed and the Port Haven allies disappeared under closed hatches on the sub. They would fight for their home and win, Havoc knew. They would win because they would fight like crazed men.

Soon, Havoc heard a cluttering of voices and the familiar CLAMP as the tank was set into place under the shuttle. Soon, he heard Ler yell the ramp was closed and something about getting them the hell out of here. Havoc couldn't---and more importantly---wouldn't disagree with that statement.

Soon, Lasso was up in the cockpit, his coat wet in places from the sub. The young Captain put his A280 blaster rifle into an avilable weapon clamp in the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot seat as Havoc started rotating the craft for outer space departure.

"Good to have you back, Captain," Havoc said, "Orders?"

"Keep us low between the tree line and the ocean on the opposite shore line from Port Haven. Run towards the orbiting ships' position. We'll rocket up as soon as we're roughly under them. I want to put as much space between us the main fight as possible," soon Taab entered and Lasso said as he strapped himself into the co-pilot seat, "Chief, man the guns. Just in case. We'll remain comm silence until we're in a safer position."


TAG Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Mara Jade
Hovercraft


“EH1, copy.” Tozzi cut power to the accelerator fans, slowing the craft. “Ma’am,” he called back to Mara Jade, “There are enemy units arriving in strength at the beach. Probably not the best idea to charge in with you aboard. How do you want to play this?”

Mara was no fool; she knew when it was better to fight another day. "Take us around to the opposite beach," Mara said with a bit of anger in her voice, "With all due haste," Mara said, not adding that she had a pull from the Force that a certain Jason Lasso may be passing that way; Mara jumped on the comm system, "Imperial Starfighter Command, this is the Emperor's Hand. I need a squadron of TIE Fighters immediately available to cover the East coastline. Tell them to look for any shuttle, starfighter, or any other craft not sporting an Imperial transponder code. We need survivors. I will be in the area shortly."


TAG Sith-I-5, Falcon

 

IC: Captain Timothy Stakes
Bridge, King II-class Battleship Allegiance, over Port Haven


"Long range batteries in range Captain!" Yelled the Chief Gunnery Officer.

"Belay first order! Hold fire!" Stakes said.

"Captain," Hilton said, "Are you sure?"

Stakes ignored his trusted 2nd's question as he turned to helm, "Helm, as soon as we fire, I want you to break to starboard away from planet. Gunnery, I want all port and rear guns charged and on the ready hot once we break free!"

"Yes, Captain!" replied both officers.

Now Hilton could see it.

"Starfighter Command, I want all port defense assets to switch to starboard and rear defense immediately. Inform them to fire at will on the Imperial cruiser if they have a clear shot."

"All guns in range!" Yelled the gunnery officer as the Imperial cruiser started to spit out it's death up ahead.

"FIRE!" Ordered Stakes. The Allegiance shook with an unheard powerful shake as all guns fired.

The mighty Battleship banked hard to starboard; multiple warheads from Jod starfighters following her firing order moments later. While the Allegiance took fire, her shields held. The Imperial cruiser's shields seem to hold for a few brief moments, the impacts of the massive energy discharge impacting and expanding out like a rock being thrown in a pond across her shields. Tiny and big impacts started to sound off on her armored hull as the shields failed in places along the bow.

It was mere meters that the two ships passed by each other, their port and starboard sides facing each other. Stakes' men knew what to do and didn't need an order. The Allegiance's port batteries errupted with fire, her mass driver cannons throwing their deadly ammunition in addition, towards the Imperial Heavy Cruiser. The close range impacts ripped through the shields and tore through the hull. As a last measure of order, as the Allegiance's port cleared the Imperial cruiser, the Battleship's rear guns fired off a barrage into the aft of the Imperial cruiser.

"Helm," Stakes order, "Bring us about! Pursuit course! I want that Imperial Cruiser! Alert all squadron leaders in escort of us to launch long range ordinance at that cruiser. Pick her apart!"

"Damage report!" Ordered Hilton.

"Bow shields down to seventy percent, but holding. Port shields down to eighty percent!" reported the damage control officer, adding, "Bow Deck Three reports a hull rupture. Seven injuries, three killed in action. Emergency shields holding."

"I want damage control teams to that area immediately!" Ordered Hilton.

A swarm of Jod starfighters ran after the Imperial heavy cruiser, launching long range missiles at her retreating form as the Allegiance came about, indicting to finish the cruiser off from whatever damage the Allegiance brought to her.


TAG Sith-I-5, Falcon, ALL Merc/Jod starfighters awaiting launch clearance from space