Log:Delaya: Cavalry Skirmish
The Royal Dragoons ride to protect an Ulgo ally.
OOC Date: June 4, 2022
Location: Cortess Lands, Delaya
Participants: Ban Iskender, Bors Thul, Nora Frayus, Ulani Kalgaav. Aryn Cortess
The contested ground near the borders of House Ulgo's domain are among the most fraught in the unfolding war on Delaya. The strongest ground power among Delayan nobility, the infirm Count Ulgo supports the Pretender, Lana, but faces enough dissent within his family and court that the mighty Ulgo army has yet to directly join the battles.
It is on one such border near contested territory where Panteer light cavalry have crossed into Cortess lands, supported by erratic artillery fire. It quickly becomes clear that the Pretender's cavalry were in pursuit of an unidentified VIP, and it was judged of high priority to facilitate their escape. Thus, the finest of the fastest of Aryn's armies and allies were deployed: elite speeder bikes and jump troopers with orders to drive off the Pretender's soldiers, without harming the designated VIP.
The terrain was rough. As ground grew high and rocky in the foothills of the Ulgo borderlands, copses of whisperpine trees grew more scarce, both for unfavorable ground and for having been shattered by recent artillery fire. Holo displays tracked the notable parties: three speeder bikes in blue (two clearly escorting the third), pursued by 18 speeders marked in.. also blue. The hostile speeders were carrying beacons marking them as cavaliers of House Thul. All the swift vehicles are weaving erratically, trying to open or block lanes of fire, while the path ahead is pocked by long range bombardment. Streaks of ruby energy stab out periodically, as the pursuing speeders fire on the unknown trio ahead.
The riders are fleeing and pursuing from east to west, still several kilometers from the Ulgo border, while our heroes are on an intercept course from the south-west.
House Thul being used as a means to allow Lana's forces a charade to get close to a potential target. An outrage. That they would use only blue without the noble gold and crimson a TRAVESTY! And for that to be believed A POX UPON THUL'S GOOD NAME! In full armor, helmet on and behind the controls of the geonosian designed bike, Bors is kipping along at a brisk top speed. Over five hundred kilometers per hour.
Leaned over the control bars, visor of his Katarn class armor glowing argent hued cerulean, Lord Thul keeps twisting the throttle for more speed, and inside his helmet there is vast disappointment for the lack of the speeder adhering to his demands.
Another outrage.
<<"I think they should be coming up on sensors, the blithering knaves... Still aboard, Ula dear?">>
Upon the back of one mechanical 'steed' sits a hooded Princess wrapped flush with an armored rider as the traverse the terrain on intercept. Trees whisk by like brief blurs, definitive only by the sound of their passing as whispered huffs. Apart from the noise of passing terrain, the motors of the Dragoon steeds roar as the cavalry ride, and ride hard, for their objective.
Nearby, a rider dressed in black armor stands up on their bike just before it takes a brief jump. The rider bends their knees, accepting the subsequent impact and urges the vehicle onward with a louder roar of engines.
<<"Have we longer to go?">> Aryn asks through the comms, the background noise in the mic picking up the motor and passing Delayan vegetation.
The last time Ulani found herself in this situation, it was a high-speed escape from Kuat with a likely-not-completely-sober pirate at the bars. Instead, she is nestled in front of Bors, tucked between his outstretched arms gripping the controls; the speed of their bike keeps her back pressed against the nobleman. The helmet on her head and her smaller stature keeps her hair from whipping him in the face as she is stooped over a datapad.
<<"Targets in pursuit are disguising themselves as supporter of Thul. The cads. Marking their signatures.">> Used to Bors' piloting by now, his driving is must the same except he can't do those barrel rolls he loves to do. <<"Still here,">> she does confirm from below his eyeline. <<"They seem to wish our attention.">>
Rough terrain and erratically-weaving speeder bikes aren't really Nora Frayus' speed. She's more of a yacht in still waters sort of girl, and even still, her father won't let her steer the thing. It is some manner of mercy, then, that she is not the one steering the speeder-bike. Instead, she is using her left hand to clutch beneath one of the armor plates of the Black Rider as he steers the pair on the intercept course to their quarry.
"Goodness, we are going fast. Are you quite sure you will be able to get close enough for me to give them the pointy bit of this?" Nora asks. The pointy bit and 'this' that the young noble is referencing is, of course, the rapier in her right hand. Rather than being tucked into a sheath at her side, it's currently pointed tip-down in front of the speeder's footholes. She doesn't make a point to lift it up and wave it towards him, even if she wants to.
<<"I certainly hope not.">> she replies to Aryn, and pulls herself a little closer to the Black Rider and tucks her face against between their shoulder blades.
Riding on a military grade Mobquet Overracer, as are the dozen dragoons with him, Ban Iskender voices evenly over the comms, <<"The trio in front are under fire. All dragoons: arm lances and break the pursuing formation. After the first pass, you may engage at will. For Alderaan and Her Highness: charge.">>
The Black Rider has amusement in his voice when Nora asks whether he can get close enough: "Closer than milady will ever again wish to draw. Don't stiffen your wrist as we ride by: if the blade lodges it will snap or be pulled from your hand unless you roll the wrist and recover as we pass.">> he advises as the line of a dozen dragoons arm force pikes in a crackling skirmish line of raised lances. For his part, rather than a lance, Ban draws and alights his saber. "We are upon them, Highness," he answers Aryn as the mob of Panteer (Thul!) cavalry blade into view at an angled approach.
He could slew around some of the short rises, brake at dips... But then he'd had to give up the glorious rush of pure unadulterated speed and the sheer joy that comes with it. Hands remaining at his controls to keep the bike steady at ludicrous speeds, Bors's expression a glorious rictus behind his helmet.
A-Wing pilots are insane.
A fireball and pinwheeling shape turning to twisted scrap and hurled, broken doll form, drawing Lord Thul's eye, <<"Ere we come upon them therein, Your Grace.">>
As they ride up, closing the distance, Aryn is witness to the destruction of one of their allies and frowns. The Dragoons are closing the distance quick, and Ban has given marching orders on the attack. She watches as the cavalry prepare to joust, and she has her lightsaber in hand but has not activated it yet. Several people have answered her question, and Aryn responds with a hopeful, <<"Be careful everyone. Mother willing, I will see you on the other side of this conflict.">>
Ban's driving is superb and Aryn leans out a bit, pointing at one of the drivers gaining ground on the two remaining allies. "I DARE SAY IT MAY BE HARD TO GAIN GROUND WITHOUT A DRIVER!" Yelled over the noise of Ban's engine. Aryn's hand makes a gesture, /pulling/ from left to right. Those sensitive to the power of the Force felt its ripples stir around Aryn as she used her influence to snatch a rider from his ride and plant him on the ground. He was not dead, but now he was stranded in the middle of a field of warring cavalry.
His bike, absent its operator, veers off course and collides with a tree, transforming to flames in an instant.
Ulani looks up from her screen now getting a visual on the knaves that have chosen the wrong damn house to imitate. A frown pressing on her lips, her helmeted head turns tlightly towards Bors as she speaks over her shoulder and in a raised voice: "Bors, dear. I'm afraid I must apply some destructive knowledge gained." Ulani's hand disappears into her bag and seconds later pulls out the familiar cylinder of an ion grenade.
Waiting for Bors to get them into throwing range, a gloved thumb pressed on the button to activate it. A heave later, the ordiance hits the ground right in front of an enemy speeder, bursting in a shockwave of electricity. A flare of sparks and the speeder shuts down completely, its nose diving into the ground at full speed and exploding on impact.
Nora grasps onto the Black Rider a little tighter, leaning her head to hear their words reverberate through their armor. A small smile spreads across her face and she perks her chin up to answer a moment or two later. "You just mind the speederbike, hmmmmh?" Nora says. Their approach is rapid, and Nora shifts the grip of her sword in her palm as they get nearer and nearer still. Her first swing is a hard slash forward that she misjudges the range of. The arcing swing misses wide, but when she draws that blade backwards towards herself, the Black Rider's trajectory and the subtle motion of her arm sees that blade catch the side of the opposing rider's arm. A rip of fabric, and then a yelp.
Nora attempts to finish the rider by plunging the sword into their ribs, but a sudden bump in terrain sees it thrust between the rider and their steering apparatus. Thanks to some quick wrist-work, however, Nora is able to wrench it free and sit her butt back down, face tucked up against the Black Rider's back as they veer off to, ostensibly, engage once again shortly.
The choice of energy lances on the charge dictated a dangerous and chaotic skirmish. Formal jousting with rails was an elegant sport, but in the open field, without rails, collision is a deadly chance in a headlong charge. The Black Rider knocks a cavalier off their speeder with a stunning hit, another dragoon collides with a Thul rider, and while the others do little to strike their foes, but even in missing, the pursuers are scattered in an instant of panic. Four of the pursuers are felled by force, by blade, or by lance, ten are forced out of formation in a wild tangle of blaster pistols, swords, and mechanical steeds, leaving only four remaining in close pursuit, one of whom fires their cannon and damages the re aiming escort rider. Over comms, the Cortess forces are hailed by a solemn, feminine voice, <<"Cortess cavalry: your assistance is accepted, but you must not cross the Ulgo border. Repeat: do not cross the Ulgo border.">> Said border is growing rapidly closer.
Ducking and leaning to keep the bike stable while ordinance is hurled by Ulani and powers beyond the ken of mere mortals such as himself are used.
<<"Comms, my dear. It means thee needn't shout!">> banking away from the ion detonation to keep similar fates from his own and Ulani's person - noting laser, and conventional, swords being swung among the flurry of force pikes being used to wring despair and grant woe to the foemen that are unlucky enough to be both on the wrong side of the conflict, struck by laser swords, sorcery, ion detonations and metal through vital anatomy parts. And this on top of having the gal to wear HIS House Colours.
Outrage.
Even more when there are -laser- blasts coming in his, and therefore ULA's position. <<"Bounders.">> Language Bors.
<<"Absolute rotters and cads!">> BORS. What would your -mother- think!?
With Ula in front it's easier for him to swing the bike over, putting them at a 45 degree angle and swerving to keep he, she and he bike from being struck - blaster fire hailing all around them and the pilot keeping them as clear as he can.
<<"Being chased by murderers and they're worried about borders? Blasted foolish that is!">>
Aryn activates her lightsaber, batting away the incoming blasts as riders do their damnedest to bring her down, or blast her off her ride with Ban. However, Aryn is aware that the conflict has grown far more complicated, tying up forces with contending with each other rather than the objective. So she points her sapphire blade ahead, signaling to Ban they should help their companions by disabling their pursuers.
When they arrive close, Aryn strikes out, cutting away a stabilizer, then a speed motivator on another. The effort is tremendous, and while her third attack yields no definitive damage, sparks fly off its exterior. Two bikes are forced to draw back leaving two.
<<"Tis not a border dispute, but likely something more.">> Aryn answers back, hazarding a guess. <<"We wish you safe journey to the border!">> Aryn calls out, her lightsaber held low for now and trailing a sapphire blue behind them.
A click in their ears precedes Ulani's voice, much quieter, talking to Bors directly. <"Forgiveness. These situations; I sometimes forget."> The scenery whipping past them at break-neck speed, Ulani keeps herself safely in that arched nook of Bors' frame as he navigates the rugged terrain and keeps their pursuing foes at a tactical distance. Her weight shifts this way and that as the bike does the same, momentum acting as the best means for her remaining seated where she is.
Another ion grenade appears from within the depths of her satchel: a pocket specifically rubber-lined because she cannot suffer more charges getting soaked in an inconvenient downpour. <<"Launching another blast!">> A Kuati-accented warning to all of their cavalry to make a path for the /true/ Thul speeder bike among them. The grenade flies towards the nearest foeman who, witnessing the fate of their fallen bretheran, employs the cunning maneuver of quickly steering out of the way; nary missing the burst of electric deadzone. Cunning.
<<"Ah yes. We will be quite sure to avoid the large line in the earth that says 'Ulgo border'. Thank the Mother it is clearly marked.">> Nora chides with a roll of her eyes over comms. When the Black Rider banks towards the rider she'd wounded before, Nora grips her steel and leans her body sharply to the side. The throw of her body helps tip the speederbike at its hard bank, and also conveniently sees a burst of blasterfire rush up and over her head. When they are within striking range again, Nora doesn't hesitate. The first thrust of her blade pushes through the soft spot in the driver's armor just above his shoulders and clear out the other side. Nearly dead, they seem intent on taking that priceless rapier with them. Nora attempts to rip it forward through the front of their neck, but the shared momentum and lack of a good angle sees it lodged squarely in place.
It is then that the Black Rider signals with their foot and Nora gives a nod of acknowledgement. A burst of brakes and a rip of that sword backwards sees that edge cut through the central nervous column and spray the back of the speeder with a red mist. Nora cackles and tucks herself back up against the rider. Their enemy's speeder nosedives into the ground, but Nora and the Black Rider are already thousands of feet away.
Nora turns her head over her shoulder and watches Ulani and Bors narrowly miss the ion blast. She doesn't know, of course, that it was their -own- ion blast. Nobody has to tell her, either.
Aryn's speculation and Nora's snark are equally given no answer by the rider out in front, no doubt occupied by the destruction of her last escort. Of the 'Thul' 18, 10 remain after another pass of sword, lance, and pistol with the Iskender dragoons.
Ban follows Aryn's blue beacon, steering the Overracer with his right hand and shifting weight, while the left holds his own green sword out to the left. Once Aryn's blade has struck twice, Ban claims the forward steering vane of a 'Thul' speeder bike, dooming the rider to a loss of control, and crash into the splinters of a whisperpine copse.
The skirmish is a bloody one, tilting in favor of Cortess, though numbers are near even.
There is still one Thul cavalier in firing range of the unknown VIP, with nine of his fellows barely a second of full speed behind, intermixed with dragoons and a True Thul.
<"Unfortunate."> Bors notes as the enemy weave around Ulani's second detonator, ducked low more to assure Ulani's back is armored as much as to reduce profile in the madcap dash on repulsors kicking up fantails of dust and dislodged vegetation in their wake, <"Should have come in fighters, I could have precision fired upon the foemen with ease.">
Notes for the future.
<<"Aye, your Grace, we shan't cross at their request - but give hope that the foemen find their match when we must stop or peel off to honor request.">>
Slewing the bike around again for Ula to get a better position.
<<"Trust in the Force, my Lord,">> Aryn replies back, making good the word of the Force when she lifts an empty gloved hand and seizes control of the final rider pursuing the Ulgo driver. The sudden motion battles physics, forcing them backward as if they'd been lanced off the bike but in truth, they were just held motionless in the air until Aryn dropped them harmlessles to the ground in time to witness their bike's destruction.
To the Ulgo ally, Aryn parts with a kind, <<"Your close tail has been disabled, my Lady.">> Aryn wraps her arm about Ban as they break off and prepare for a final attack. In the process of doing so, a series of attacks are warded away with the graceful swing of her lightsaber.
<"That you would have,"> Ulani agrees with a gentle nudge of her elbow into his armour. He might not feel it through all of that, but the gesture is still there. <"I dare say you may still get your chance. I doubt much that Panteer will give up this fight anytime soon."> But with the border fast approaching, it seems their fight today is going to draw to an early, abrupt close.
One more ion grenade. One more Hail Mother in the direction of the chasers. One more explosion of electricity that pops like bright blue fireworks but otherwise hits nothing. <<"I fear they're on to my tactics. And too quick out of range now if we are not able to pursue.">> Instead of taking another grenade out, Ulani hooks her hands under Bors' thighs and holds on, knowing that the sudden end of their chase is fast approaching. <<"Mother and Father be with you,">> she offers to the unknown VIP they have done their best to protect.
Nora's body tips forward when the Black Rider abruptly begins their braking line away from the Ulgo border. Nora turns to look at the rapidly-shrinking form of the speeder they were escorting, as well as the sudden lift-off of the pilot from the final pursuing bike. Her right eye closes and she gives a soft wince when she watches that body ragdoll into the ground, sliding hundreds of feet and likely leaving a nice bit of armor, cloth, skin, muscle, and bone behind.
She leans with the turn, but keeps her blade drawn in the event that the remaining Panteer pursuers elect (foolishly) to contend with them instead of give chase to the lone speeder.
The separation of mere seconds is vast when moving at such speeds. Once the foremost of the false Thuls is torn from the saddle, the other nine cavaliers must hit afterburners in a desperate effort to catch up to their escaping quarry. At a signal from Ban, the dragoons decelerate, breaking off the running skirmish at the base of a canyon which affords them a fine view of the Ulgo lady pursued by the Panteer nine. Over the comms, they are given a curious and cold farewell: <<"This is Lady Sydney. Unleash hell.">>
There is a distinct and ominous sound that accompanies the firing or large bore blaster cannons, audible only in the instant before impact. Veterans of war afoot know and dread it. That is the sound which now precedes a dozen artillery blasts in rapid and shocking succession in the canyon ahead of them.
Amid the blackened and shattered stone ahead are the unrecognizable remains of the last nine False Thuls, swept away in an instant. They had been slowed just enough.
Hauling back on the 'reigns' such as they are and swinging to a repulsor back-thrust side a handful of meters before the borderline Bors brings the speeder with he and Ulani to a halt with enough inertia to tilt the bike in threat of casting them over and that arrested only by his armored boot hitting ground. Impact sending a hard shake up his body to rattle his teeth and cause the HUD of his helmet to distort and suffer a line of static that warbles up and down before systems stabilize and he instinctively puts an arm around Ulani to shield her from detritus hurled by the voice of the heavy guns with the reinforced plastoid of the now antiquated armor.
Barely three decades older than him even.
<"Mother preserve and Father aegis..."> voice subdued while he bears witness.
Hearing Lady Sydney say the phrase was not enough to prepare Aryn for what followed. Artillery rained in with thunderous applause, and screaming shells impacted the earth with stunning precision, cascading up and out with obstructed explosions that were masked by the dirt. Debris skyrocketed high up like streamers, leaving smokey contrails dotting across the open air to rain down miles away.
"An ambush." Aryn observes aloud, speaking after the explosions and indirect fire have subsided. "The Ulgos prove their dominance on the field. Spectacularly terrifying." Aryn recalls the blue humming blade to return to its hilt, and the weapon is clipped back to her belt. "I believe we may mark this task as complete. Let us round up the wounded.."
Their bike comes to a stop at the cusp of territories, the pull of theid deceleration from such obscene speeds yanking Ulani forward despite her grip on Bors. Her stomach taking a brief trip up into her throat before swallowed back down again, the bike tilts and threatens to tip them over before the driver's armoured leg hits the ground to anchor them. Ulani recoils back against Bors with a soft "Ooomph!" which goes silent inside her helmet.
Then the command comes across the frequencies and the building up an arsenal gathers. Ulani hasn't seen nearly as many battlefields as others here, but she knows that sound. Feels Bors' arm go around her and she turns away from the sight to bury her gaze against him. She doesn't see the decimation of the Thul Pretenders. She doesn't want to. Only when the artilery fades into echoes does she look back to see... nothing. Except deep pock marks where the remaining pursuers once were. <<"By the Gods.">> A solemn breath and a squeeze of Bors' arm. But at least the Lady Ulgo got away the mission a success.
When the Black Rider slows to a stop and the horrible sound of artillery fire begins to rain hell down on those 9 remaining false Thuls, Nora stands up on the back end of the speeder to bear witness. One of her hands lifts to cover her face and she watches the hot plasma fire lay waste. "Ahahahaha, mmmh," she laughs, the breeze from the displaced air pushing her jedi tunic dress against her legs and lifting that pretty pink hair up and over her shoulders. "Ohhhh, Mother... well. That does make sense, does it not?" she asks down to the Rider, propping her elbow atop their black helmet. "We do make quite the good team, I dare say," Nora says, still leaning and applying a dainty sort of pressure with that elbow. Until they move, of course.
<<"All jobs well done should end with fireworks,">> she says over comms, failing to read the room entirely.
