Gromas

[Sgt. Slaughter]

The Crusader had taken a heavy blow on its steel chin, that was left to no doubt. However, there were cities that were smaller than that beast of a warship--the loss of a single room, even the command center, left only a negligible dent on the technological terror's fighting capability. The moment the bridge had been breached, emergency automatons sealed off the rest of the ship from the clawing fingers of the vacuum of space.

 

The bridge crew was lost, but the casualties to the rest of the ship's crew consisted of a few twisted ankles and bruised arms as a number of the ship's personnel were swept off their feet before the blast doors diligently barricaded the rest of the ship from the leak.

 

Relief officers were immediately called to the auxiliary bridge of the Crusader, a smaller, more strongly defended room in the body of the giant vessel. It lacked the glamor and visibility of the main bridge on the spine of the warship, and the smaller crew complement made it more difficult to coordinate the firepower of the huge ship, but it served its purpose as a holdout to keep the ship operational in the case of catastrophe.

 

Besides, as far as defenders went, it certainly didn't lack for skill and numbers. In the brief moment of confusion when the bridge had been literally broken away from the rest of the Crusader, Capt. Slaughter had taken it upon himself to rally the ship's many ground personnel to prepare for the boarding actions that the Arach'tar had preferred in the past to mop up apparently weakened targets. Essentially, anything that attempted to get between his men--well, those that had suddenly come under his command, despite his relatively junior rank--and the auxiliary bridge was going to die. Painfully.

[Anilara Kadav]

((I will take one IRL day to set a charge))

 

Serena and friends sprinted down the hall at full speed. Shots from random droids along the way deflected off of Serena's armor right back in their faces and if that didn't happen Serena did a momentarily flip in the air while still moving and shot right into the droid cores with her laser pistols...

 

They were rounding the corner when Serena saw it.. a checkpoint!! They had reached the edge of the ship which was one of the areas in which Serena was told that she had to place a charge...

 

There was enough cover for Ajax and the rest of the crew to hide behind while he found an area to install the charge. The charges were impossible to disengage once they were put in place and the one with the detonator was Serena...

 

Speaking of which, she was dispatching anything that came their way hoping to impose upon their process. So were the rest of the crew... They were an inevitable bunker hunkered down and dealing out damage...

 

Lukan the ballistics specialist pulled out his rather large gun and started barreling through any big droids that made it their way. Krekk the stealth specialist was hiding amongst them with a long rifle shooting with pinpoint accuracy at the hearts of the droids. Serena was just shooting to kill at anything that moved that wasn't her crew (or a stormtrooper) and serving as a proverbial shield to the rest of her team...

 

All of their personal shield generators were on, and Serena only hoped that it was enough to save her head if it accidentally got shot at... Most of the time she could avoid it, but laser fire was really fast and it was very hard to dodge it...

Edited May 23, 2008 by Guest

[Lord MacLeod]

Luke scanned the battlefield quickly with his ship, the fleets were beginning to fall apart. He slammed his fist against the side of the console. He glanced at the screen once more then suddenly pulled up out of the attack that the squadron was about to proceed with. When the various queries came over the secure comm, Luke answered them with a single command, "Follow Me." The men of the squadron fell silent, they knew their commander's moods well and knew when he was in a mood like he was now that arguing with him was pointless.

 

Touching the control for the afterburner, Luke's Tie Defender sped through the battlefield towards the Eclispe class SSD. As he grew close, he broadcast his idenity codes with his rank. Immediately the admiral's hanger was cleared for him and his squadron. The docked this ships and sprang from the cockpits in unison. The deck commander was almost shaking as he saluted the now angry grand admiral. "Move from my way and have our ships seen to."

 

The squadron closed rank around the admiral and quick marched out of the hanger. They marched past the squads of stormtroopers and crew of the ship and headed to the command elevator. Several low ranking officers were boarding the command elevator as Luke came around the corner. He gestured and six of his squadron stepped forward and hauled the junior officers from the elevator.

 

Once the elevator was emptied, Luke boarded the command elevator and waited the few seconds that it took to arrive on the command deck, by this time he had removed his flight suit andwas in his admiral's uniform. The Lt. Commander of the Onyx Squadron having had the best parade voice bellowed out "Admiral on Deck." Heads snapped around quickly and command officers quickly stood at attention as they saluted, this time Luke returned the salute as he squadron took their places behind him.

 

Luke looked at the command officers for a moment. "Open a comm to the entire Imperial fleet." The captain nodded then a moment later indicated that the comm was open.

 

"Attention Imperial Fleet, this is Grand Admiral Luke MacLeod. As of this moment, Command Deton is no longer in command. I have resumed command. All ships of the line will begin a stratigic retreat, I want all flanks covered. Begin to move in two stages. As two sectors of the fleet pulls back, the remaining sector will provide cover fire. Once the two sectors have pulled back, then they will in turn provide cover fire for the remaining sector to pull back. Bombers and cruisers, your tasks are to begin precision fire and pinpoint bombing raids. Target the engines, kill their momentum."

 

Luke cut the comm and motioned to Commander Deton. "Commander Deton, get the Alliance on comm and get a status report and do it quickly. I need to know what their commander is doing. Dismissed."

[Guest]

((Haph, Ikera is not machine. He is a living metal avatar of the Machine God. What he said in his last post did sound as if he was comparing one droid to another, but was instead meant to misdirect Haphaestus.))

 

Such insolence coming from a droid was nothing short of humorous. With his speed and strength he would have been an adversary to any lesser being, but therein lay the conundrum. What did such a powerful blow hope to do against his liquid form? Drop a stone in a lake, large or small, and the water will part, and come together again untouched. The force enveloped him at his beckoning, flowing through him, apart of him. Ikera stood motionless as time stood still, taking the time to let his senses to ascend to the next level of awareness. Brief seconds before Haphaestus made his move, Ikera was in perfect tandem with his actions.

 

As the droid ran forward, Ikera equally rushed at sickening speed, face to face with Haphaestus as his lunge was fully extended. Before the dull end of the staff touched his silvery form, Ikera parted a hole in his stomach, allowing the staff to pass through unopposed. As soon as the hole opened, the second after it resealed itself, locking the droid's right elbow and left wrist in place as they held tightly onto the staff. No matter how he would struggle, there was no fighting it. Once the command was given, the fluid would not yield. In the same movement as rushing forward, Ikera had thrown his hands up to grasp onto the droid's temples. With as much strength and hate as his body and force would allow he pushed his hands together, creating insurmountable pressure on the droid's skull. Ikera's thumbs found their way to the droid's photoreceptors, the one unprotected place on the body. Inward they ran, violently pushing against Haphaestus' eyes. His liquid form spread in the eye sockets, filling them up with his own silvery benevolence in mere seconds.

 

As Ikera began to revel at the thought of taking sight from the droid, pain shot through him as Haphaestus summond lightning to his cause. For a moment Ikera's senses left him as agony took their place, a mechanical growl resounding through the ship. Again he shifted his form, his feet twisting to spikes to rip through the metal floor. Now he was grounded, making himself one large conduit. Instead of spreading through the floor, the lightning coursed through Ikera and out through his arms, expending it's charge on the droid's head and more specifically his eyes. Ikera ampliphied Haphaestus' own lightning as it passed through his liquid form, wreaking much more havoc on the droid than it's original intent.

 

An unexpected wave washed over Ikera, filled with malice and angst. The unforeseen blow caused Ikera to waiver for a brief second, making his liquid form tense up. Instead of jerking back as would be the normal reaction to such an attack, the hold he had on his opponent caused him to just push forward harder. He stopped amplifying the lightning to bolster his own defenses, all the while maintaining his deadly lock on his opponent.

 

I am of the Machine God, whelp. Your entire existence dwells in MY DOMAIN!

 

((1))

[Haphaestus]

((No need to explain. Just fight.))

 

Machines were almost always vulnerable to electricity. This fact came full circle and, though Haphaestus felt the Arach'tar's agony, it was soon coupled with a problem. Electricity was now flooding Haphaestus' very systems, and it was quickly reaching the point where he would sustain damage that would compromise his very existence. For he was forged by hardship, a dangerous mix of the systems required to remain a machine and yet still function as an organic.

 

If he lost his mechanical systems, he would lose the battle. And his photoreceptors were the only place on his body where his chassis was not covered in Nurgle's thick, electricity-immune skin. Cunning, Haphaestus thought as his sight flickered out. He immediately starting shutting down and rerouting power systems, feeling power surges and taking a command over his circuitry that no other droid had--could have.

 

Excess power levels detected. Circuits overheating. Time left to overheat: .01 seconds. For Haphaestus, that was plenty of time. Drawing deep into the Force, the Sith Master tapped into that energy and channeled it outward. It reversed flow, blasting out of circuitry using the same route through which it had entered. Haphaestus' photoreceptors exploded, but in a very confined method, sparing their surrounding systems but discharging in a very potent attack straight at the Arach'tar before him.

 

But he knew this would be folly, so in the very small fraction of a second he had until his attack came to fruition, Haphaestus called another blast of Force energy rising from the ground to lift both figures off the ground. The electric discharge was channeled in its entirity into the Arach'tar commander's form, which was no longer grounded. His arm came free from the Sith's temple.

 

This was only part of the problem. Haphaestus' arm was still lodged in the great metal form, and excess electrical energy danced over his armor before being quickly absorbed by his rubbery skin. With another thought about five milliseconds in the forming, the Sith Master fired something he hadn't used in a long time--a molten metal launcher on his trapped forearm. It was an old HK-series secondary weapon, and the flame blew through that arm's skin and through the nozzle he had built on his armor. The Arach'tar commander's grip quickly ceased, though Haphaestus knew not whether it was due to pain or an attempt to evade the extremely hot liquid.

 

As the two beings hit the ground, seperated again, Haphaestus did a diagnostic, yet another lightning-fast process. Photoreceptors disabled. Language files corrupted. History files corrupted..... Minor damage to CPU. Error x1der4520. Extreme levels of toxins 1 and 2 detected.

 

Toxins 1 and 2 were what Haphaestus' mechanical being called anger and frustration, emotions that Haphaestus' organic self still felt but that he could look upon as simple assets and imbalances. Too much of either could fray the link between organic and mechanical function, so he usually looked immediately for an outlet. In this case, one was immediately before him.

 

Though he could not see in the conventional sense, the Sith Master knew exactly where his target was and now was all the wiser on how to proceed. Conventional attacks with staff and limb were useless. His biological half was starting to scream due to extensive use of the dark side, but Haphaestus had always been able to use his mechanical discipline to overcome it, and this was no exception.

 

Early on in his training, Haphaestus had taken a liking to the elements. More recently, he had forged lightsaber crystals in a furnace of his own design. He had studied cold and, most extensively, lightning, which had worked with varying degrees of success so far.

 

Attacking the Arach'tar with the very end of his staff to maximize his reach and limit the consequence of failure, the Sith Master used a combination of remaining sensors and Force acuity to make his assault on the being he faced. His memory corruption was making him a little confused, but he focused entirely on the moment, on defeating the enemy before him. He would work out the semantic limitations of the weaknesses in his near-perfect design later. As he attacked with his staff, he summoned the elements to his aide, calling extensively on the dark side and on the power of the battle raging around them. A gout of flame here to counter one dodge, a burst of extreme cold behind it. Metal was heated to melting point then flash-frozen in place a second later, causing intense stresses.

 

He was fighting an opponent he could not grapple and could not attack physically, but his extreme knowledge of the dark side and his superior design would win the day. And, in the back of his mind, he was stretching out with his feelings, reaching for the minds of gunners in capital ships dozens of clicks away, preparing another assault of a different nature....

 

((2. Sorry this one was so long.))

[Deton]

There were times when things didn't go well and there were times things went from bad to worse. It took ever fiber of his being to keep the order he felt like shouting out from actually escaping his lips.

 

He was an Imperial at heart and under normal ordinary circumstances would have allowed himself to be dismissed with out a thought. However, he was still operating under the capacity as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet which meant he had no one left to answer to but, the emperor himself.

 

Given that it was a wonder, he didn't have the man shot where he stood. Instead, he whirled around to face the man about to dismiss him.

 

"Ah Admiral that was mighty presumptuous of you. As well as quite foolish if I do say so myself."

 

He raised an eyebrow at the admiral's uniform.

 

"I was unaware that tie pilots now wore admiral uniforms while on duty."

 

He kept his voice under control as he looked at his communications officer.

 

"Do as the Good admiral says and find out what has happened with in the Alliance fleet."

 

As the man quickly went to work, Deton continued with this rather strange confrontation.

 

"I am actually going to have to dismiss you from my bridge, order you back into your tie fighter and tell you to get back to blasting apart our enemies. We shall not be tucking our tails between our legs and running just yet."

 

He paused clasping his hands behind his back. Under any normal circumstance, what he was doing would be suicide. However, he would be damned if he let some blasted tie pilot from the out rim show up and ruin everything. There was far too much at stake for a man unaware of the situation to come in and start barking orders at anyone. He walked up closer to the Grand Admiral until they were less than a nose bridge apart. In a low whisper, he spoke rather forcibly.

 

"I am operating as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. This means I currently out rank you. If you continue this any further I shall have you tried for treason!" He hissed at Grand admiral with enough gall to storm a bridge and take over.

"You are dismissed Grand admiral!" He practically roared after his whisper.

 

A small hand motion and two Imperial stormtroopers came to 'escort' the good Grand Admiral out. If he was smart he would obey his orders instead of trying this unnecessary coup. If he was foolish. Well the Eclipse class could hold the entirety of the Onyx Squadron in the brig for the duration of the battle. He actually abhorred against his own actions. The dualities of his feelings on the matter were almost transparent on his face. However, he knew his duty, had received his orders directly from the emperor himself and would carry them out regardless of what any Grand admiral thought.

 

Turning away from the admiral he resumed his duties of command. "Belay the Admiral's orders. We are not retreating. We are going to finish what they started."

 

Imperial Admirals across the fleet felt that they were safe following the Supreme commander who had been there since the start of the fight. Instead of a Grand Admiral who had spent all of his time on the outer rim and had just arrived. A man who hadn't even been in battle long enough to asses the situation either way. Instead, he had flown in gun blazing and then like some sort of yellow-bellied coward ordered a retreat as fast as possible. Perhaps only out of mere etiquette that he was trying to main did he keep from simply cursing the man out on the bridge. Had he been in the field he had little doubt his tongue would have been a lot less restrained.

 

This is why stormtroopers exist. Not to protect cowards like these who wish to run only moments into the battle. No, we stormtroopers exist to serve the Emperor's will and to watch over such men, incase treason lies in their hearts. We only have to obey him and each other.

 

He began to push the matter out of his mind. If the man had wanted control of a Star Destroyer, he would have been more than welcome to take it. However, such a blatant and obvious attempt at a coup was intolerable. On Deton's current mood of mercy kept him from ordering a killing shot to be placed in the man's eyes.

 

I have wasted to much time with a pointless confrontation. To think he came on to my bridge and tried to take over in the middle of the battle. If the Empire didn't currently need every man available...

 

He once again began command of his fleet. With the enemy focusing on his ships alone he felt he could buy the Rebels, enough time to regroup themselves. This was made easier with the Enemy's attention focusing on his.

 

"Power up that axial laser, lets clear a space."

 

As the beam began powering up, Ghost batch two began a new idea of sorts. Unable to keep up with the retreating flag ship, they allowed the fighters and a combination of ion, turbolasers, MCPS and tractor beams to try and break the enemy limes as the tried to form and protect the flag ship.

 

The solo models had a different problem on their hands. While they had kept their initial attackers at bay by launching Asteroids at them and had been quite successful at it. It didn't take them long to realize they were in a whole new pan of hot water as the other part of the enemy's stealth fleet materialized underneath them. With all of the enemy's cloaked ships engaging them and having cleared the asteroid field. They felt no choice but to release all of their fighters. The warships assigned to them came to their aid, as the solos began taking damage from the surprise attack.

 

Meanwhile with the blue ships pretty much out of the way in front of them, Deton ordered his Imperial ships to put the alliance ship's in-between them and the incoming enemy fleet that had dropped in from behind. With the alliance fleet currently formless, he found they served the perfect cover while allowing the imperial fleet to begin a second front on the lines forming around the flagship.

[RC-7417/0477]

77 came in from an opening and strided into the bridge. He signaled Moi, to stand behind...what was his name? Detain-no Deton, thats right. And he motioned Steele to roam freely. In front of him, he saw an Admiral, in a TIE-Fighter suit. He hasn't seen something like this in...ages Or atleast something close to that. He turned on his kit's comm, and chatted to Moi and Steele, and watched the two high-ranked officers chat.

[Gren Sairdonga]

Gren watched in amazement as his opponent turned tail and began attacking his pilots as they chased the rest of the enemy squadron. Fool. Though Gren as the three squadrons that he'd left to protect the transports leapt forward and smashed into the enemy pilots. Killing several. A fierce dogfight breaking out with the rest.

 

Slipping neatly onto the enemies tail Gren kept pace with ease. Though no easy shots presented themselves Gren didn't have too much trouble staying on his tail. Switching to torpedoes he paired them up and centered the crosshairs. Immediately Clinga began giving him a tone. But then Gren swore as the unknown pilot pulled in neatly onto Sentinel Fives tail. Too close for him to shoot without risking hitting his own man.

 

"I'm on him I'm on him. Sentinel Five. Break Starboard on my mark."

 

Pulling back a little Gren checked his sensors quickly looking for a way around the problem. That close to Five he couldn't shoot. But neither could machine-man. Suddenly the enemy broke hard port. Snapping to action instantly Gren yelled into his comm.

 

"Justiciar. Priority fire redirect. On my telemetry transmitting now. Twenty seconds of fire as soon as telemetry is received."

 

Cutting his engines and hitting the rudder he spun the nose of the fighter around onto the same heading and the enemy. Getting his target lock back almost instantly Gren transmitted it. His thrusters still cut he fired a pair of torpedoes on the fighters tail. Just as space turned red with the Justiciar's blanket fire. Firing another pair of torpedoes Gren pulled around. Not entering the kill zone.

 

"Sentinel's reform on me. Report in by the numbers."

 

(3)

[Anilara Kadav]

as the charge latched to its position and started up immune to any deactivation, Serena nodded with confirmation and they all moved on with great speed...

 

Ajax was growing a little weary because he thought this ship was going down any way so he was concerned for their safety...

 

"what do you mean Ajax?"Serena said noticing the growing concern in his eyes as they moved down the hallway...

"well, think about it, theres already another team on here and they weren't sent for charges. There is a huge battle going on outside and what is the chance that one of those blasts won't hit this thing..."Ajax finished while Serena's expression was growing even more bewildered..

 

"True, ... well then we still have to gather intel on this thing. Let's get to the ship's mainframe"Serena said changing the mission on a spur of the moment because she realized Ajax was right. The mainframe was the most important part of this mission though so she figured...

 

"but it might be a suicide mission staying on this ship" Ajax said solemnly

 

Serena turned to him red in the face...

"It was a suicide mission even coming to this ship and we KNEW IT!! you think I want Rainer to have died in vain? I don't know if your coming with me, but right now I don't care... I was sent onto this ship to gather intel on these stupid machines... AND BY GOD I AM GOING TO DO IT!"Serena stopped and raised her voice only for a second then resumed her pace after shooting five crusaders in the hearts...

 

Just then though Serena realized something. Even though she might have some chance at finishing the mission to the mainframe her friends would not be so lucky...

"you know what? It might be good if you guys do go.. I think I could get myself outta here pretty well. I did have a few flight lessons myself, and it would be better to get some of the team out then none of them"

 

"but,.."they echoed looking at her concerned...

 

"no buts, you guys go I'll stay...take the path that we've come because its clear... don't take any breaks and push on to the hangar and then Ajax fly them out"

 

"yes ma'am!"The team sprinted down the hall in the opposite way and ran right out of her concerns. Now Serena was alone...

 

Serena knew it was rather foolish, but she gathered the data pad up and sprinted full force down the hall. She was really the only one that stood any chance against these droids blaster fire... Serena was blasting things left and right leaving a scrap pile as she went...

 

Rage in her eyes, so much so that she seemed to be glowing. There was fire in her heart as she accelerated down the hall. Underneath her armor her tattoo glowed a brilliant green and gold accompanied by a roar... On the top of her head, her Zabrak horns poked through her skin and emerged revealing themselves for what they were... Serena's eyes glowed as well with a vigor akin to a roaring fire...

 

Serena was too involved though to notice what was happening with her own body, and she sped right through to the mainframe hallway. She had no idea where it was but bet on it being near the center of the ship. Good thing there was a definitive aspect to this particular hallway. It was covered with security droids...

 

Serena had come to the toughest trial in her life and was prepared to face it whether she died or not...

[Damon]

Long before the mental battle had finished between Starlisk and the invaders Damon left the bridge to continue his battle efforts. Not to long after his departre from the bridge did the ship suffer massive damage and Starlisk lost his battle.

 

Shaken and disturbed by the damage delt by the battle Damon did not notice the hole that errupted from the hull. With a quick reaction and a lucid mind a force barrier was raised. It held. The atmostphere stableized and Damon headed his way to the secondary comand center. After leaving that section he released his barrier and the ship sealed that area.

 

Arriving at the secondary command center the presence of officers were fewer and the quaters tighter. The force told him who was here and who was in charge.

 

"Slaughter. I am here to aid you in any way you deem needed. While you are preparing for the boarding parties in the mean time I suggest you focus on regrouping the remaining fleet then pushing a counter attack. A counter attack when we are persumed weak would be unexpected. Those are my thoughts. Use them as you wish"

 

Damon not waiting to recive orders in the mean time took place at communication terminal. Activating the assisted viewing mechinsism the jedi now once again alliance officer took posisition for the fight ahead.

[RC-7417/0477]

((>.> Sorreh for the random short-post above, XD I sorta rushed it))

 

77 Walked beside the Admiral casually. Too casual for comfort; they gave him a little chore to escort the Grand Admiral to his TIE-Fighter.

 

"So, I thought the highest ranked officers that actually saw some action were Captains...I can't blame you though, Admiral, its better than being stuck behind a desk."

What the hell did I just say?...

 

77 became blank for a second or two, until reality kicked in. They were reaching the hangar, were several TIE's hung. He motioned to all three,

"Your carriage, Admiral."

 

77 commed Steele and Moi, who were both with Deton.

All done here...

[Lhinneill]

The E-Wing rolled through a swirling mass of enemy fighters, jolting from the shock of multiple near-misses and close calls. The astromech droid was fairly frantic now, squealing out damage reports with alarming frequency. Adam crushed his own looming panic and steeled himself for another round.

 

The Arach'tar were tough and it took a lot to bring down one of their ships. But the more crafts Adam and his team took down, the better chance the other Alliance--and Imperial--troops had of getting to the flagship. They had to end this battle--now. They had already lost far too many.

 

Adam calmly pulled the E-Wing around in a tight loop, sticking to the enemy fighter ahead of him. Twin shots from his lasers disabled the craft and a second attack blasted it to pieces. Adam rolled out of the path of the destroyed ship, shooting high and coming back around to rejoin the group of pilots.

 

His comm crackled. "Sentinel's reform on me. Report in by the numbers."

 

Adam and Lia'silik came about, breaking from the other pilots. "Sentinel Seven here, sir," he said over the comm. "Ready for your orders."

[Cadio Sikaot]

Sikaot sat in the command chair of the Starlight which was floating through space around the fringes of the battle. He was watching his diagram and began to notice how much the alliance had really lost in this battle. More than half the ships they had brought had been destroyed, and more were scrapping by. He nodded to his comm officer who sent out the order.

 

Ships began moving back towards the fringes of the battle and began to regroup in new battlegroups to give them more organization. Groups of five ships moved out and engaged a single enemy ship, covering each others weaknesses and playing to their strenghts. Now all they could do is wait and see if their strategy would work.

[Haphaestus]

((I was, as requested, going to back out of this duel. However, this battle has completely stalled and I've attempted without avail to contact Ikera. In short, I invoke the 3-day rule. Sorry to anyone else who wanted a shot at him.))

 

Haphaestus' elemental and physical attacks in combo and his mastery of the dark side were earning him a victory. He fought with more skill than he had summoned ever before, the sheer intensity of the battle beyond the craft his greatest source of power--a source greater than he had found before.

 

Meanwhile, he was solidifying his mental link with one of the gunners of an errant and doomed Imperial vessel within striking distance. The gunner didn't have much skill, but Haphaestus seized his mind and lined up a perfect shot--one that coincided not only with a shorted shield bank, but very nearly the exact position of the Arach'tar commander Haphaestus was combatting.

 

With a sudden thrust of Force energy, Haphaestus hurled his enemy into that position, then summoned a vast amount of pure cold, a transformation of the energy outside in a very potent, very tangible way. A block of ice instantly formed around the Arach'tar commander. It would only take the being a moment to break out, but the ship shook and a flurry of turbolaser blasts blew apart the wall. A final blast struck the frozen Arach'tar dead-center. Ice evaporated and shattered, and with it went its contents.

 

Haphaestus allowed himself a moment of brief satisfaction as the vacuum sucked him outside the vessel, wishing only that his photoreceptors had captured the event he knew had transpired at his bidding. His biological parts prickled, but he could last indefinately in outer space, and with the dark side to guide him, he could make his way back to an Imperial vessel shortly--or just comm in and have someone retrieve him.

[Dagon]

Haph, we've been waiting for you to stand down as you said you would via PM, your post is nulled.

[Haphaestus]

OOC: My PMs never received a straight answer.

 

I'm not going to edit my post. It also holds how I was going to back Haphaestus out of the fight. Just instead of Ikera being vaporized with everything, he survived.

 

If everyone would communicate with me a little better, this could have been avoided. Don't pretend you answered my PMs either.

 

IC:

Haphaestus continued to float through space, making his way back to a nearby Star Destroyer....

[Dagon]

OOC((First you alias stack, then after agreeing to stand down, you don't, then when agreeing to back out you don't. If you had done what you said you would do we wouldn't be at this point to begin with. We've been more than foregiving of your many errors in this battle, don't compound them and ruin it for everyone else. Edit your post into something passable.))

[Haphaestus]

(( I'll repost things nice and clear so no one has to imagine anything. This is what I meant to say in my last post. I'm not trying to be difficult--honest.))

 

Haphaestus' elemental and physical attacks in combo and his mastery of the dark side were earning him a victory. He fought with more skill than he had summoned ever before, the sheer intensity of the battle beyond the craft his greatest source of power--a source greater than he had found before.

 

Meanwhile, he was solidifying his mental link with one of the gunners of an errant and doomed Imperial vessel within striking distance. The gunner didn't have much skill, but Haphaestus seized his mind and lined up a perfect shot--one that coincided not only with a shorted shield bank, but very nearly the exact position of the Arach'tar commander Haphaestus was combatting.

 

With a sudden thrust of Force energy, Haphaestus hurled his enemy into that position, then summoned a vast amount of pure cold, a transformation of the energy outside in a very potent, very tangible way. A block of ice instantly formed around the Arach'tar commander. It would only take the being a moment to break out, but the ship shook and a flurry of turbolaser blasts blew apart the wall, one of them bound to strike the powerful being.

 

Haphaestus allowed himself a moment of brief satisfaction as the vacuum sucked him outside the vessel, wishing only that his photoreceptors had captured the event he knew he had bidden. Of course, he wasn't entirely sure the Arach'tar had been destroyed, but he calculated the chance of such an event being high. His biological parts prickled, but he could last indefinately in outer space, and with the dark side to guide him, he could make his way back to an Imperial vessel shortly--or just comm in and have someone retrieve him.

[Lhinneill]

Sound doesn't travel in the vacuum of space. Like most men who'd grown up traveling between the stars, Adam of course knew that. But still, he found himself thinking that it had grown altogether far too silent.

 

And though dear Adam had no idea, that thought had also crossed the mind of his beloved writer, who was honestly a little bored (and who missed posting). So as Adam drifted through the void of space above Gromas (a space now cluttered with trillions of little pieces of metal that had once belonged to ships), she was at work trying and failing to think of a humorous situation she could plausibly RP to bump the thread up and remind some people that RPs are FUN.

 

But, failing that, she decided to post a thoughtful Adam in his E-Wing, contemplating his mortality.

 

But oh, that's just so boring.

 

And of course, Adam knew nothing of all that wonderful stuff. He sat at the controls of his E-Wing, teeth mercilessly clenching his bottom lip as his hands and feet worked the controls that kept the starfighter dodging blasts and returning fire on the Arach'tar ships. His wingmate stayed at his six, faithfully protecting him from ships that locked on his tail. She was honestly far more experienced in the fine art of starfighter combat, and Adam knew, understood, and very much appreciated that fact. She'd likely be the one thing that kept him alive in this crazy blender.

 

The twin E-Wings spun about, shooting clear of the exploding masses of several enemy fighters. Adam tapped the side of his helmet, ensuring his headset was still working, and calmly awaited his orders.

[Bad karma]

(Meh, was going to wait for Ikerra but..whatever)

 

The energy of the battle washes over the ship and reverberates within the corridors as it drops into real-space. She opens her mind to the devastation being wrought and soon a map is formed; the areas thick with death, the beacons of light and black holes of wickedness. Extending her senses, she can pinpoint two of the larger taints. One is familiar; the other is the one she has come to put an end to.

 

One of the strangest things about space battles is the complete lack of sound outside of your ship. She stood in the cockpit for a while just watching the flashing lasers and explosions that illuminated this sector. She took her time adorning herself with the proper equipment and pulling the death laced energies of the battlefield to her.

 

There is a faint metallic sound echoing down the corridors as Dominique moves towards the small chamber near the belly of the ship. It is there that she found the others gathered, their own preparations having taken place already. In the blink of an eye the group faded from one location and into another. The oppressive taint of Ikerra was suddenly no more than ten meters away. Dominique looked from within the shadows, towards the powerful figure with a lazy gaze.

 

She did not wish to take the first strike, instead she drew her weapon and prepared herself.

[Exodus]

Vanquish

 

• ”œ”¦Open wide.”

[Guest]

A resounding reverberation shuttered through the ship as Ikera commanded his form free of its frozen prison. In his time trapped, the droid had flown only to be replaced by another four, though these warriors absolutely drenched in dark command. Ikera remained silent as they made themselves apparent, taking careful note of their presence.

 

"No, I have no questions. Your words have proven your ignorance without the need for further inquiry."

 

Such arrogance, was it the only thing that held an organic's morale in tact? Though surely inflated in some regards, assumptions like these were often founded on some form of truth. While this one wore his confidence on his sleeve, the other three remained silent, equally observing him as he had they. Ikera changed his stance, mimicking the martial forms they encountered so often in their struggles. Outnumbered as he was he would not strike first.

------------------------------------------------------

 

Tenari dropped his emergency flares the moment before impact, causing the first set of torpedoes to miss their mark. The second set of torpedoes left their bay and began screaming furiously towards his fighter, again towards his aft. Out of flares, Tenari pushed his ship to full speed and spun around toward the scattered remains of one of the massive ships felled in today's battled. The scene was littered with the red of enemy fire, giving Tenari little option but to run for cover. His body was nearly seventy percent machine, making him one of the more complete units in the arach'tar military. His connection with the mechanical portion of his body gifted him with an affinity for machines around him, including his own fighter. Gifted with such superior control of his craft, Tenari spun and pulled his ship through the ship's carcase. The maneuvers too much for the finite targeting computer aboard the torpedoes, within a few moments and a couple risky twists, the torpedoes eventually managed to nick a piece of debris and explode before they made their mark.

 

Tenari pulled out of the debris just in front of Gren. Slowing down just enough to make sure his enemy recognized him, Tenari banked wide right, pulling whoever was on his tail over the bow of the same crippled ship he was weaving through just a moment ago.

 

"Gear Squadron. Now!"

 

Just as he passed the bow, mass fire from the squadron flew behind him, the squadron hiding in the ship's shadow for their orders.

 

((3. Good duel Gren. Couldn't really think of much else to do in a dogfight.))

-------------------------------------------------------------

 

As a cohesive machine, the fleet amassed, focusing all their fire on the remaining enemy ships, despite their retreat. Blue aura ships and standard turbolaser firing ships alike unleashed their final barrage, the wrath of the Machine God behind every blast.

[Anilara Kadav]

Serena had hoped to complete her mission, heck she was even utterly driven by a secret magic feeding her rage, but as she was about to charge down the mainframe hallway for data retrieval The ship received an internal blow a few swaths away from her position...

 

Serena's face flushed as she saw the blast rip its way through the ship and she had an utter change of attitude as to the situation...

 

Not wanting to be a sitting duck though she struggled to hasten the magic away to have the ability to change her mind... Her rage drove her towards the mainframe but through a large force of will power and an inkling of an image that squeezed into her head she managed to subdue the impulse and instead ran as fast as she could toward the hangar...

 

Deton, I am coming back..

 

Serena had no idea that by the time she saw him she would probably be out cold, but as of now she was still careening down the hallway at an unbelievable speed ripping through crusaders and anything else that happened to get in her way... What had struck her though, as she went, was that maybe she could in fact bring back info...

 

Skillfully aiming at one crusader she managed to deactivate it with only small damage to the droid as a whole and she hefted it onto her back as she ran...

 

it took her only a few minutes to reach the hangar and re activate her mag implants... she managed to grab a helmet type object on her way out that secured to her neck so she wasn't dying... and due to the implants and the crusader carcass she was able to remain stable in the hangar...

 

Panicky and breathing heavily Serena rapidly tried to find a fighter to grab and work herself out of this hell hole before it went down into the deepest reaches of space...

 

She felt extreme sorrow as she coursed through the rather empty hangar until... There it was .. a small little fighter, but a fighter nonetheless...

 

in a flash ... completely ignoring the force of the mag implants to the ground and the carcass on her back she made it to the fighter, lumped in the carcass and strapped herself in...

 

No time to doddle let's get the crap outta here...

 

It was then she realized she had flown many things before, but nothing this complex...

 

Ok, ok... where's the start button... where's the start button..

 

her eyes landed across a red switch in an undefined shape that looked important. She pulled it and thanked her lucky stars as the fighter started up... She felt the blast of the thrusters and the rhythm of the machine rumble through her body as she blasted her way out of the hangar...

 

flipping around quickly and dodging constantly she managed to avoid most ship blasts... She wasn't quite as daring as Ajax so she didn't use ship cover, and she could only hope that she made it back to the eclipse...

Edited May 23, 2008 by Guest

[Deton]

At last, a lucky break fell his way. The retreat of the Alliance ships a theme that seems to run strong had inadvertently caused the enemy ships to switch focus to them. No doubt in an attempt to bag as many kills before their enemy got away. Never the less, it gave him the opening he needed to fully solidify his front.

 

Linking up with ghost batch two he was able to form a semi-circle that allowed him to pound into the enemy. The axial laser he had charged up began clearing the way towards the enemy flag ship to allow for easier boarding instead of the worst gauntlet imaginable. Even in the thick of it all, the Eclipse still limped along a single of strength for the Empire.

 

Around him alarms rang and people spoke feverishly. Through it all, he continued to keep up his vibrant and fiery displays of passion and anger toward the enemy while project a cool calm appearance.

 

He could feel the battle like a pulsing living thing and he came to a single conclusion. It was reaching its climax.

[Anilara Kadav]

Serena panicked dodging blaster fire left and right from the imperials and from the Arach'tar. She pushed herself on and managed to get the Arach'tar fighter to stumble on into the eclipse hangar...

 

Stumbling herself out of the fighter after its rocky but solid landing, Serena panted as she came out of the fighter and was looking up to find Imperial blasters in her face...

 

"Whoa Whoa guys... I'm with you, I'm with you"

 

beads of sweat rolled down her head as she moved toward a corner being backed to her doom when a familiar voice grazed the air behind the crowd.

"Hey, we can vouch for her..."

 

and there they were, Ajax Lukan, and Krekk were standing in the back smiling at the whole ordeal...

 

"yeah they did the same thing to us to before we showed them our identification..." Lukan said visibly happy to see Serena alive...

 

Serena perked up a little but noticed Ajax was now on crutches...

 

"what happened to you Ajax?" Serena said concern lacing her mentality and the strain of her face...

 

"Oh you remember that landing we had on the machines' ship? Well we didn't have such a smooth landing here and I ended up tearing one of my legs clean off... Granted they were going to give me a bionic one, but after that encounter I was in no hurry to make myself part robot..."

 

The all laughed together...

"Meanwhile" Said Ajax, "did you manage to gather any intel before you left?"

 

Serena sighed as she held up the carcass of a crusader and pointed at the ship she came in... "I figure since mine is still in tact they could probably research the construction of the enemy ship... and this crusader might provide vital research into weapons that can pierce through the armor... These are no ordinary droids..."

"what about the mainframe?" Krekk said almost interrupting her...

 

"Well as I got to the mainframe the ship had begun to suffer vital damages and when i had gotten to the mainframe hallway I realized it was a fools errand..." She did seem rather depressed about that, but she was definitely glad she made it out alive...

 

Ajax smiled... "did you detonate the charge yet?"

 

Serena giggled wickedly... "Nope"

"wait, let's get into a position where we can view it from here" said Ajax eagerly...

 

It took them a few minutes to set in their spots, but as soon as they were ready Serena pulled out the detonator and pushed the red button...

 

Immediately a rather large explosion on the east side of Ikera's ship could be seen as it got larger and consumed a good portion of the ship's eastern body...

 

"woo hoo!" the team cheered as a piece of the ship fell off into the void and floated away...

"Now if that isn't an explosion I don't know what is" Lukan the ballistic specialist said with an expression of sheer joy on his face akin to that of a child's in a candy shop...

 

Serena heaved the Crusader carcass onto her back as she made her way to Deton... She knew she had left her team and they would probably figure it out eventually, but they knew she wasn't leaving the ship.

 

Serena was exhausted, the wear of the battle on her face, but no visible battle scars. She slowly made her way to Deton's chamber and really couldn't wait to see him again...

 

<45 minutes>

::heave::

 

She had reached the door and made her way through it in a woozy like fashion and wondered why she was suddenly weak...

 

in her last feet of strength she managed to pop the crusader's carcass onto a large table, but then she fainted...

Deja Vu...

 

((after effect of tattoo magic - check profile for more info...))

[Exodus]

• ”œ”¦Perfect, let us continue.”

[Amon Saulot]

War makes odd bedfellows

 

To think that Amon was fighting next to his sworn enemy, an agent of decay and rot, was unexpected to say the least. But the Arach'tar had brought with them an unexpected development, a false god with powerful servants. In the past, Amon had fought within the confines of the mortal, physical world, relying only on his Jedi training to aid him, but this was different. This was holy war. It was time to put aside his mortal self and put on the mantle of the immortals. In essence it was time to reveal his true self.

 

But who am I?

 

That used to be such a simple answer, when he was younger. He was Amon Saulot, son of Tzeentch, surely destined to become a great mystic like his father. Then came the mortal world. Above Csilla he found a part of himself that had been hidden in the years spent reading books and scrolls. There was more to this man than contemplation and hidden knowledge. There was honor, and courage, and in time there was martial prowess. Since that battle, Amon had become a living dichotomy between the mystic and the warrior. It had taken constant Jedi training to reconcile the two, something that he could not do until he had trained to master rank. In their own way Khorne and Tzeentch had reconciled within him too, and complemented each other in unexpected ways. Tzeentch's hidden knowledge gave Khorne strategy, and Khorne's honor and courage gave Tzeentch newly found power.

 

The sleeper has awakened

 

Amon's body became consumed by fire of every shade and hue, as the physical was replaced by the spiritual. His left side became clad in armor of silver and dark blue, curved and elegant, seeming to bend and twist with impossible architecture, driving any who dwelled on it mad. Bizarre glyphs written with fire and gold wove complex wards and protections on the young prince. A mighty pinion of coruscating fire emitted from his back, bathing the room in the glow of blue fire. His gauntleted hand was consumed by the many fires of Tzeentch, each a weapon in their own right.

 

His right side, the side that represented his devotion to the warrior path, became clad in armor of bronze and blood red. Where the left side was mystical in its application, the right was practical and tangible, heavy well tested steel. The boiling blood of past enemies dripped from the armor, burning any foolish enough to touch it. Over his right shoulder, a murder of burning bronze skulls bellowed and shouted warcries. In Amon's right hand was a sword forged in the fires of Khorne's own forge, a weapon that sought to draw blood and claim the skulls of worthy opponents.

 

Flanking Amon were an angel of change and a demon of war, resplendant in the regalia of their respected gods, the angel as much living flame as a spirit, and the demon a towering houndlike beast with two terrible axes. Being divine meant never having to fight alone, although it was ironically his Jedi training that gave Amon the ability to channel both of the entities at the same time.

 

With a dismissive wave, Amon sent the two entities at Ikerra, preceded by a flight of the burning bronze skulls that would strike with explosive force.

[Darth Furion]

Wreathed in fire made manifest through righteous fury he stood with his arms spread wide, drinking in the assassin's consuming emotion as if it were water straight from the grail, his own dark tide steadily growing as Exodus' own fueled him. The fire didn't hurt, for how could one hurt metal? No series of machines or set of organs drove this creature, but solely the idea of the divine, the perfect machine. His body was nothing more than an alloy. To damage him would be to sunder the elements themselves. The heat ran deeper, to the very core of his mortal form until it completely enveloped him. When the flame died down, he let his arms fall to his side as he raised his head out of its reverent bow to look upon the two combatants. His body glowed a soft orange as he stared at the pair with blinding white eyes.

 

For a moment he stood basking in the euphoric hatred the Dark Lord allowed to escape his composure. Before he moved, something behind Exodus caught Ikera's attention. He didn't notice it at first, Exodus' wrath had managed to cloak the rest of the hallway from his senses, but now you'd be a fool not to see it. Shrouded in a venerable array of flame extending to each and every hue known to this spectrum stood the second warrior in a completely new form, but it was something entirely ancient in origin.

• I know this wretch...

To his side were an unmistakable pair, flying their respective colors with all the boldness pride allowed. Though the power of Rev'Nullem boundless, this form limited him immensely. Fighting creatures of such power in this state was a task to say the least.

 

With a subtle gesture a wave spread through the hall, beckoning the machine to his will. At once the sound of stressed metal came from the ship's very core. What mechanic remains of his crusaders that survived the inferno in the hall stood. Soon the hall shook as his command was carried out. The sheeted metal comprising the hall's walls began to peel off the wall, plating the fallen crusaders in a thin layer of the strong metal. With a nod just as dismissive as Amon's, the half dozen crusaders rush forward to meet the summoned beings.

 

Flying past the small skirmish of crusaders and Amon's minions soared four bronze skulls. With a quiet growl Ikera sneered at the skulls as his liquid form fell through the grated floor. For a moment he disappeared, removing his divinity from all forms of perception. While the crusaders stood their ground against the manifested pair Ikera flowed through the floor, resurfacing behind Amon and Exodus. His form still glowing hot he struck out, his hands molding to the narrow point of a rapier as his arms extended toward the base of his opponents skulls will all the force he could summon.

[Guest]

Wreathed in fire made manifest through righteous fury he stood with his arms spread wide, drinking in the assassin's consuming emotion as if it were water straight from the grail, his own dark tide steadily growing as Exodus' own fueled him. The fire didn't hurt, for how could one hurt metal? No series of machines or set of organs drove this creature, but solely the idea of the divine, the perfect machine. His body was nothing more than an alloy. To damage him would be to sunder the elements themselves. The heat ran deeper, to the very core of his mortal form until it completely enveloped him. When the flame died down, he let his arms fall to his side as he raised his head out of its reverent bow to look upon the two combatants. His body glowed a soft orange as he stared at the pair with blinding white eyes.

 

For a moment he stood basking in the euphoric hatred the Dark Lord allowed to escape his composure. Before he moved, something behind Exodus caught Ikera's attention. He didn't notice it at first, Exodus' wrath had managed to cloak the rest of the hallway from his senses, but now you'd be a fool not to see it. Shrouded in a venerable array of flame extending to each and every hue known to this spectrum stood the second warrior in a completely new form, but it was something entirely ancient in origin.

• I know this wretch...

To his side were an unmistakable pair, flying their respective colors with all the boldness pride allowed. Though the power of Rev'Nullem boundless, this form limited him immensely. Fighting creatures of such power in this state was a task to say the least.

 

With a subtle gesture a wave spread through the hall, beckoning the machine to his will. At once the sound of stressed metal came from the ship's very core. What mechanic remains of his crusaders that survived the inferno in the hall stood. Soon the hall shook as his command was carried out. The sheeted metal comprising the hall's walls began to peel off the wall, plating the fallen crusaders in a thin layer of the strong metal. With a nod just as dismissive as Amon's, the half dozen crusaders rush forward to meet the summoned beings.

 

Flying past the small skirmish of crusaders and Amon's minions soared four bronze skulls. With a quiet growl Ikera sneered at the skulls as his liquid form fell through the grated floor. For a moment he disappeared, removing his divinity from all forms of perception. While the crusaders stood their ground against the manifested pair Ikera flowed through the floor, resurfacing behind Amon and Exodus. His form still glowing hot he struck out, his hands molding to the narrow point of a rapier as his arms extended toward the base of his opponents skulls will all the force he could summon.

[Exodus]

• Children of Gods

 

Fear is the first step on the road to His hell, and hopelessness is the chain by which He binds his slaves. Sorrow is his nourishment. Horror gives Him form. He preys on those who would submit to bitterness and those who closet themselves in misery, while life moves on around them. He is terror in the face of decay and disease, and He is inaction in the face of all that is perceived as inevitable. He is our impotence to resist the ravages of time, and He is our morbidity. He is revulsion and self-deceit, and He is the acceptance of defeat. He breathes His cynicism into our souls and binds us to His will. He is Grandfather Nurgle, and He is obstinate, self-indulgent, despair.

 

A dark majestic fleece shot out and was born from his blackened armour. It unpeeled from his pauldrons and spilled from his back. The cloak mantle shined with shadows and was veined from top to bottom with a sinister emerald brilliance. It was amorphous, an exoskeleton that stretched out across the floor and stirred with its own mind; alive and absolute. Upon the darkness of his raiment, mesmeric runes whittled their illustration with not fire and gold, but oozed earth and poison.

 

Son of Tzeentch, Herald of Nurgle

Champion of Jedi, God of Sith

Two men at odds, united as one.

 

The powerful flames were devoured without hesitation, as the creature, almost liquid metal in his state stood there enlivened all the more. It provided a blind-spot for the metamorphosed Amon to unleash and break apart the chains of his inheritance. Two creatures not of this realm flew past Exodus as he paved his own connection to the God who had hallowed his soul. Metal shed from the walls and found themselves hosts as a horde of beasts clashed with the two that had passed him. This battle no sooner became a collision between the divine.

 

I'll save the best for Rev' Boy.

 

The creature Ikera disappeared. Exodus spared no mind to unearth his whereabouts as there were few options within these halls. He did not stand still either, the size of his now tyrannical build moved with haste unrivalled. His fluid, formless cloak winded and wrapped around his frame as he pivoted his right foot to the right and leaned his head upon his shoulder to perfect his observance of his front and his rear. Milliseconds spent, his penetrative irises sifted the darkness and watched as the creature pooled from the open floors, his now solar ambiance made it even easier to become aware of. He watched the creatures' hands coalesce and sharpen to an unfavourable measure, and then he made a move. Three ethereal serpents slithered from his amorphous veil, thick and unseen but nastier and more potent than anything that pathetic serpent order could ever muster; servants of the decay.

 

One hand raised and hauled the Jedi into the torn wall, while the other stretched out in front of him to measure the perspective at which the attack would come. It did come, and it moved with commendable speed. Exodus almost over-slept his reaction as the hot liquid metal whizzed passed the left of his mask. His left hand, now free, crackled and hissed as the three familiars bit into his wrist. He clutched the heated metal with a powerful hold and a moss pentacle of fine art drew itself back down the creatures' blade. It shared the same vein-like impressions as the dark cape that flowed beneath Exodus. His metal clad hand burned and charred while smoke spewed from his clasp, he released and took a quick step backwards as the deific venom of rot now spread with merciless speed down the frame of this Avatar. Not even the tremendous heat itself could null such an endowment, the servants of Nurgle knew that best.

 

• ”œRot in hell.”