Log:First Order: Battle for Mon Calamari

First Order: Battle for Mon Calamari

OOC Date: March 18, 2018
Location: Mon Calamari
Participants: First Order: Kylo Ren, Dreman Bryce, Evie Leven, Grayson Oakfell; The Resistance: Ektor, Dosk, Karas Darkwing, Gren Delede, Kirit Xiptil, David Ironside, Leia Skywalker, Ambrosia Greystorm, Devii, and Rey; Knights of Ren: Asiir Cuul and Ravelyn; with Guest Stars Boba Fett, Jax Greystorm, Sesti Greystorm, and Zhu Yan

The skies above Mon Calamari now bear the dark spectres of multiple Resurgent-class star destroyers, their wedge-like silhouettes stark harbingers of the fury about to descend on the planet. Among them is a massive Dreadnought, more than twice the size of the destroyers and evidently being escorted by them as it lowers towards the planet's atmosphere. From beneath the Dreadnought, a truly enormous hatch has opened and a small fleet of Xi-class shuttles are lowering an unidentified device, a gigantic disc of durasteel topped by a cylinder of some armored machinery, towards the waves below.

TIEs scream through into the lower atmosphere, and JAS assault landers filled with Stormtroopers flood from their bellies like wasps from a hive. The Mon Calamari have deployed their orbital defense fleet, a jumble of MC30s, MC80s, and MC75 cruisers that are dwarfed by the larger First Order craft, and skiffs already shoot across the waves toward where that device is being lowered.

The First Order has come to Mon Calamari.

The Resistance capital ships are nowhere to be seen as the battle for the aquatic world begins, but the tip of the Renegade's spear has arrived: the fighters on standby had launched toward the fight immediately. A tense hyperspace flight later, and Ektor gives a crooked grimace at the report of his sensors. <<Arright, my brothers, let's get stuck in this thing. Blue Leader, what you think? Try and cut through the fighter screen to screw up whatever drek they're trying to drop, or focus on the TIEs?>>

The Resistance is coming but it looks like in waves, leading Blue Flight. Starfighters scream in from hyperspace, "Spark tactical analysis please." he calls to his droid. He blinks at what the sensor data comes up with, <<Well....there is a lot, but lets do what we can to help thin the herd a bit.>> he calls into his comm systems as he speaks to the fighter attack wing. Thinking of a few things, <<Let's clear as many fighters as we can and draw in towards the lead Star Destroyer, I don't think we have anything heavy enough to hurt that Dreadnaught so lets focus on that for now.>> he calls into his comms.

Dosk flies along with Ektor, the pilot of Gold 2 looking with a bit of awe as the FO begins deploying its mass array of vehicles and troops. The Codru'ji eventually snapping out of it as Ektor makes his call to Karas, his multiple arms flipping switches and verifying all his settings are where he likes them. "Gold 2 copies, lets give em hell" he radios while throttling up to move with the rest of the fighters.

Among the TIEs screaming through the Mon Calamari atmosphere above the waters far below is a... more unique craft. A TIE Silencer slices through the air, though as the other TIEs scramble to join in the aerial combat, the Silencer heads for the beach. As it flies over the beach, angry red blasts of cannon fire shoot forth from the ship, arcing toward the Mon Calamari ground forces making their way across the sand. The Silencer continues across until it reaches those First Order soldiers beginning the land battle, and quickly lands. The hatch opens with a foreboding hiss, and Asiir Cuul leaps out of the craft, pulling his hood up and over his head as he goes.

When the Resistance fighters begin to materialize, shooting in from hyperspeed, the battle in the air has already begun to rage and the First Order vessels appear to take little notice of the trio of small fighters that have just arrived. Turbolasers blast away, massive cannons lobbing blobs of plasma across the space between the Destroyers and Mon Cal cruisers, and all around them the blue bloom of shield arrays trying to hold back the onslaught.

On the beach, Mon Calamari warriors rain fire on the incoming assault landers, turret emplacements chugging bursts of energy towards them. The Mon Cal are prepared for this fight even if they are outnumbered and outgunned. On the horizon, that mysterious device continues to lower, creeping closer to the water below.

Ektor answers Karas, << I hear you, Blue Leader. With you for the first run through the fighter screen, but we gotta cut them up for a run on that... whatever it is the Destroyer's putting down, yeah? Keep with me, Gold Two,>> Ektor adds, as the aerial joust commences. Ektor lands a hit on one enemy TIE, abruptly juking and rolling to avoid a hit in turn. The dogfight is on.

Just a few moments behind the initial flight of Resistance starfighters, a blue and white E-wing starfighter flickers into real space. It's hauled out of hyperspace close by Calamari's gravity well, rather than a timed jump. The pilot was going for a close approach. <<Renegade Leader, in-system. We need intel before committing the fleet.>> The nimble, but heavily armed fighter is quick to dive into the developing furball. Gren's ship knifes through a formation of TIEs, picking out a likely target and his triple heavy cannons spit red fire into it's hull, leaving it spinning but still technically alive. He might have time to finish the job before he's got to break off his run on it.

Karas sensors update with information and with one of the Star Destroyers lowering something into the water, <<Alright guys, update to this Op. Clear out the Ties to get to that Star Destroyer and yes Destroy whatever the hell that thing is. Keep close to your wingman and lets do this!! We can't let the Mon Calamari fall!>> he calls and quickly pushes the throttles to MAX as his A-Wing rockets through space and the second A-Wing from Blue Squadron follows along with him. Karas lines up a shot on one of the incoming Ties. He quickly fires off a shot at one of the Ties. Grinning at the speed of this fighter.

"Copy Gold 4, im with you" Dosk radios as the fighters race into the TIE formation, watching as the A wing roars ahead and begins outpacing the naboo fighters. The 4 limbed man breaking up slightly to get a line on one of the FO fighters, squeezing the trigger to let the two cannons fire into his target.

Asiir's black leather boots stomp into the sand, the Cathar easing himself into a crouch to absorb some of the shock. Standing back upright, Asiir glances toward the troop transports touching down and the columns of Stormtroopers charging down the ramp. Amber eyes flick across the stretch of beach to where one of the current emplacements attempt to blast the transports from being able to deploy their cargo, and reaching out a hand toward it, the Cathar draws on the surge of anger within him. Fingers curl into a claw-like orientation and all at once flames burst into existence on one of the turrets and dance along the metal surface.

The sudden onslaught from new fighters draws the First Order's attention, and on a bridge somewhere, a scanner tech is reporting their arrival and engagement, followed quickly by an order for the Resistance pilots to be engaged with extreme prejudice. TIEs scream and dart through the air, coming on to meet the new vessels.

The fighting on the beach has been joined, as the assault landers slam to earth in the shallows, dropping their landing ramps open and allowing the troopers inside to storm the beach, boots pounding into the water and the sand while blaster fire rages around them. The bottleneck of the assault craft is somewhat protected but still provides a tight, packed area for fire and many are shot before they can even disembark, but there are always more coming behind them. The hooded figure draws attention, and a Mon Cal sergeant directs his fireteam to take him down, sending a volley Asiir's way.

Ektor's lip twists in a wincing sneer, as the fresh wave of TIEs swarms into the fight. "How come they always got more friends than me, Tenner?" he wonders, being answered with a rude squawk from the droid. <<Gold Four, I'm hit but shields holding.>> Juking hard to the side, with an irregular climb and dive thrown into the maneuver as the Tionese pilot tries to line up another shot.

He's old. But Gren's reflexes are still sound. Renegade Leader's pilot squeezes the trigger, and pumps another burst of laser cannon fire into his crippled target, shredding the First Order starfighter just in time to blow through the expanding cloud of detonating ion engines and solar panel wreckage. A shudder passes through his ship, but a quick toot from behind him indicates that they came through without damage. "Aye, droid. I'm going to get you killed, today." The victorious snubfighter's searching for a new target, but his flight path is clearly headed for whatever strange device is being lowered toward the planet. <<Scratch one. If you need a hand, say the word, Four.>>

The space is pandamonium, TIES all over the place, more than he's ever fought, but still he wasn't going to let down the Resistance. <<Alright copy that Renegade Leader.>> he says into his comm. He sees sparks and smoke coming from he TIE he fired on previously, but he wasn't able to destroy it and through some fancy maneuvers that catches even Karas by surprise is able to get behind him and fire. Karas quickly dive and rolls and barely escapes from getting hit. The shots are very close and his fighter shudders. <<Let's start moving towards that device and Star Destroyer, get close as you can to minimize the Star Destroyers effectiveness against us and keep taking out TIEs.>>

As the fighters all begin engaging, and the TIEs focus more on them, Dosk breaks off slightly as a barrage of incoming fire flies by them, one of them managing to hit Gold four. He quickly arcs up and over as Ektor dives down in his evasive maneuver, looping his fighter to get a line up on the TIE that managed to get a shot on his fellow gold mate. The cannons lighting up again to score a solid hit. "Still with you Gold 4, lets head for that device."

Asiir can sense the blaster fire coming his way, but cannot react quickly enough to get out of the way. The red blast of energy catches him at the right side of his abdomen and tears a hole through robes, fur, and flesh alike. A gloved hand slaps to the wound as the Cathar staggers back in the sand, feet shuffling and sending a spray of substrate to either side. His top lip lifts into an angry snarl as his eyes fix hatefully on the Mon Calamari that shot him, the Cathar looking toward the disembarking First Order soldiers and stabbing a hand forward, signaling the charge. His right hand drifts beneath his robes, pulling free the silver handle of his double bladed lightsaber, angry red and emerald green blades springing into life simultaneously as the Cathar charges directly for the doomed Mon Calamari Sergeant. Leaping high into the air, the Cathar comes down with the full weight of his body, a hot flash of the lead blade before it connects with the Mon Cal's right shoulder and digs a fatal line to his left hip, cleaving him in half diagonally.

As the First Order's TIEs shift strategy to counter the new arrivals, things start to change in the sky. The TIE pilots begin catching onto the new threat, able to get around behind the Resistance crafts and open fire on a few of them, angry green plasma hitting hard into the ragtag array of fighter shields. Below the Dreadnought, that massive device, looking almost like a stadium in shape, but made of durasteel and sitting on a plate even larger than the cylinder itself, hits down into the ocean, sending out a swell of a wave towards the shoreline.

On the beach, troopers continue to run out of the landing crafts onto the beach, returning fire on the Mon Cal defenders, turrets exchanging blasts of energy while one in particular has gone up in flames. Hasty trenches and breastwork line the beach, with fishy heads sticking out of them to fight for their planet.

Ektor answers Gren lightly, <<Nah, boss; I got these dreks right where I want 'em. Take your shot at the big ugly, yeah?>> His wingman is answered with a grin, <<Cutting hard to mark three-seven in two seconds.>> He rolls the nimble N-1, leading it in front of his wingman, while landing a hit of his own on an enemy fighter.

"Droid. See if you can figure out what the piss that thing dangling off of the Star Destroyer is." Gren is in the process of lining up a divw on a pair of TIE fighters, only to end up having to abort the run, green laser fire scything from his six-o'clock and punching into the E-wing's shields. "Stop whining and tell me what they just dropped in the bloody ocean!" An annoyed shout at the astromech, and he works on trying to draw a bead on that TIE on his six.

Slowly. That's how Y-wings enter a firefight. Rather than swooping in from the skies to anger the swarm of Ties, Green squadron opted to cruise just over the ocean surface. Their chosen paint color is acting like a visual camouflage as they keep com silence on approach. It's only when the device hits water and the wave comes in their direction that Green Leader breaks silence. <<Green flight, target those shuttles with prejudice.>> As the Y-wings bank upward to avoid the swell, the lead fighter is buffeted by the wave spoiling its shot. <<So much for the surprise element.>>

Karas Blue A-Wing dances in the air, when the Ties getting behind the Resistance fighters, he's able to evade the green laser bolts diving and rolling. With his he is able to lose the TIE that was following him, Karas checks his sensor display and finds the TIE he was engaging and finds that it's trying to reacquire another target, at the same time he runs a sensor sweep on the device that just plunged into the water. He frowns and transmit what he finds as he pulling up hard and rolling as he fires on the TIE destroying it. <<Everyone, here is the targeting data I was able to get from that device, it's heavily shielded and plated with armor, that's all I was able to get. What kind of ordnance it has I don't know but we have to take it out soon.>> with that the Resistance Fighters will get the computer information Karas just sent. He peels away, <<Blue 2 on me, we will work on taking out fighters you guys figure out how to take that damn weapon out.>> he calls and both A-Wings decends into the Maelstrom of TIEs.

With his success in hitting two TIEs, Dosk moves to stay alongside Gold 4 in lieu of separating to go for the large thing now in the water. As he attempts to line up a third shot, his ship is rocked hard as a TIE scores a damaging hit to his fighter by surprise. "Gold 2, shields down and got some hull damage" Radioing as he moves into a slight dive and jukes his ship back and forth in an attempt to lose whatever managed to knock his ship so hard.

Asiir's previous target still stands, the expression reading almost confused before the body slowly slides in half and tumbles to the sand. The Cathar's eyes glance to mark the fallen body and then bolt upright as another Mon Cal sends another round of fire his way, the Cathar narrowly dancing away from the beams of fatal energy. His lightsaber comes up high, red and green blades twirling into a dizzying mix of colors before the Cathar whips his saber into a feint with the lead blade, only to reverse and whip back across with a deadly backhand of the green blade that carves a deep furrow across the Mon Calamari's throat. The wound isn't a complete severing, a small bit of muscle and tissue left that ensures that as the Mon Calamari falls to its knees, the head swings weirdly from the skin as it tumbles free.

As the battle rages on, the TIEs continue to engage the Resistance fighters while the capital ships duke it out above the planet's atmosphere, massive cannons swapping blows against each other's shields. The First Order has fewer ships of the line, but each easily dwarfs the Mon Calamari defenders in size and firepower. An MC30 Frigate's shields go down under a blast from the Dreadnought's orbital guns, and in a wreath of flame, it falls towards the waves below, sending up a cloud of steam and smoke as it crashes down.

On the beach, more and more assault landers continue to make their way down as the troopers, led by a lightsaber-wielding figure in black, attempt to establish a beachhead. The tide is awash with white-armored bodies, trampled over by the next wave, while Mon Cal skiffs weave around the landers, trying to blow them apart before their cargo of troops can be off-loaded. Everywhere, chaos reigns, and in the distance, the First Order's mysterious payload is sinking slowly into the waters.

Ektor answers Karas with a drawled, <<Great, I'll get right on that, yeah?>>. This, in the midst of a spiralling game of cat-and-also-cat with the swarming First Order fighters. Then Dosk takes a hard hit, and Ektor curses. <<Coming back around to pick up your tail, Gold Two, stay evasive->> Gritting his teeth with the force of the tight turn, he lets loose a blast of his cannons, scoring a telling hit on Dosk's immediate tormentor. <<Only a couple hundred more to go, yeah? We're stuck in pretty deep up here, Green Leader: let the big drek have it.>>

<<Renegade Leader is RTB. I've seen enough. Green Leader is in command, keep up the fight.>> Gren hauls back on the stick of his E-wing starfighter, and punches the throttles. The snubfighter's cannons tickle a TIE as he passes, and then the blue and white craft is burning hard for the gravity well. <<We'll be back in force, pilots.>> A glance over his shoulder at the droid. "Transmit a coded message to the fleet. We're coming in hot, and I'm expecting them to be ready to go." In a matter of moments, Renegade Leader will flicker into hyperspace.

From out of the clouds in the sky above a rumbling engine propels the oblong shape of a Firespray-pursuit Special starcraft. It rockets down toward the ocean's waters with the ambient light glinting off of its newly restored hull and paintjob.

Inside the heavy assault fighter a man looks over to the person seated beside him. "Looks like we've missed the start of the party." He says, showing a faint smirk before looking ahead again out of the main glass viewport. "Lets see if we can't make an entrance." The person beside him says nothing, stares to him, then back out the front viewport as well.

The Slave I soars down over the beach where a large number of Mon Calamari forces are gearing up, resupplying and preparing to reinforce their allies. Many of them DUCK as the Firespray rumbles over their heads...

From behind the craft, a compartment is seen opening and a single glowing piece of ordinance is dropped... right onto their heads. It slams into the beach, sending sand and water up in all directions as it rolls end over end and then comes to a stop right in the center of the Mon Cal forces, all their eyes upon it while the Firespray shoots off over the ocean's waters.

The Seismic Charge is beeping, counting down.

It would seem that the gig is up. Tie fighters spot Green Leader and her attempt to take out the Xi-class fighters and swarm en masse. << I copy Renegade. I'm trying to get a shot lined up on those shuttles but it's as thick as Endor down here. I think I've got.. one.. no three on my tail right now.>> Kirit tilts her head to speak over her shoulder at her gunner, "Kavin, see if you can't clear those out would you? I'd like a clean line of fire.

"Copy, gonna give some space and see if my R2 can get my shields back online" Dosk radios from Gold 2, continuing to do evasive maneuvers as he begins working with the R2 unit to assess his situation more in detail.

Asiir presses the attack onward, the Stormtroopers closest to him following the black clad figure forward as they press through the Mon Calamari forces in a tight formation, Asiir himself at the peak of the wedge as they advance across the beach. The red and green lit lightsaber is a flurry of multi colored lights, swirling quickly enough as the figure brandishes and twirls the blade into an almost dizzying array of whipping blades. As the Slave I flies close overtop to drop it's payload out on the beach further away, Asiir takes advantage of the momentary distraction as the Mon Cal before him glances away from him for a moment too long. Asiir's saber comes across in a vicious swipe that opens it's belly through its armor, and then a twirling stab that stabs the emerald blade directly through the Mon Cal's heart to sprout from the back of its chest.

Pandemonium on the beach. A bomb has been dropped from a passing Firespray, a rare sight even when they aren't spitting bombs from the sky, and a black-clad Cathar with a lightsaber is in the trenches cutting Mon Cal soldiers to pieces. The stormtroopers' inexorable advance gradually begins to take hold of the beach, forcing the defenders to retreat from the forward trenches, abandoning the smoking wrecks of the nearest turrets to fall back, giving ground before the assault.

In the air, fighters clash in desparate earnestness, the Mon Cal ships joined by a handful of Resistance fighters. TIEs wail and whirl, their sheer numbers their deadliest asset, hundreds of them filling the sky with a persistent whine and staccato of repeating turbolasers as the iconic H-shaped crafts hurtle around behind their quarries, always trying to gain a lock from behind while tailing a target.

<< I hear you, Gold Two, get clear,>> Ektor answers Dosk, his expression twisted with focus on his mark as Gold 4 finds himself isolated from his Squadron in a little corner of sky full of nothing but TIEs. "Lets see how much of your time I can waste, yeah?" Dodge dodge dodge, blast.... didn't dodge fast enough. The N-1 rocks with a hard hit, shields collapsing, and a spray of sparks from a damaged subsystem. "Ah, drek. Tenner, try to get my shields back up, and throw auxiliary power to thrusters.. NOW," he instructs the R2, while trying to lose the TIE on his tail.

Chaos in the skies, chaos on the ground. If she were truthful about it, the pilot of Ziro One might admit that her years behind the controls of Sienar crafts as one of the company's pilots hadn't quite prepared her for something like this. Pilots were allowed to stretch those kinds of truths, though. It was a tradition as ancient as any, and Evie wasn't about to break it. Besides. She was /born/ for the big stage. << Ziro One joining the fray. >> announces the Kuat native to her comrades, fingers going over her controls like a woman possessed. The carefree girl one might see on the ground? That's not the one that sits in the TIE's cockpit, and this hunter is seeking out a target.

Across the battlefield the sound and echoes of war are suddenly silenced, for a handful of seconds no one on the beach or within a pending radius of around a kilometer will be able to hear anything...

And then the Seismic Charge detonates.

A rush of noise SLAMS back into the ears of all those involved on the beachfront battle and the explosion of lightning-bright energy fans out in a spherical shape that tears into the beach itself, creating a tidal wave of ocean water, sand, dirt, rock, debris and what remains of the Mon Calamari forces in that part of the beach!

The destruction is devestating and the wave of sizzling blue energy from the Seismic Charge rolls up into the sky shredding anything that comes into contact with it.

While the Slave I rockets safely out of the blast radius, its path leading it toward Mon Calamari and Resistance fighters in the sky.

Inside the craft, the man at the controls flips a pair of switches at the same time, places his hand onto the steering yoke and then squeezes the firing triggers, sending out a stream of relentless laser fire onto the tail of a Mon Calamari starship!

Keeping low to control the numbers aiming at her, Kirit hugs the waves, creating a plume of ocean behind her craft to shake her pursuers. With Kavin spraying Ion fire randomly into the sky, she finds a break in the cloud of Ties and takes it. Pulling hard on the yoke, she noses around and lines up on one of the stationary Xi-class shuttles guiding the.. doom weapon?.. into the ocean. The combined fire of her cannon and ions soon has the ship breaking apart and falling into the sea. <<That's one shuttle down. Not sure what that's going to do for us but it counts for something, right? Give me a sound off. Who's still up here with me?>>

Asiir's lightsaber hums in the air angrily, both blades of the weapon vocal in their thirst for more blood, but the rock of the explosion from the thermal detonated on the beach a ways down has all of the attention in his immediate battlefield turning to look at it in awe and horror. Asiir watches as the water and sand are send out by the force of the explosion, the sheer energy of the destructive ball reaching high into the sky, and then he turns his attention back to the enemies before him. An older Mon Cal has similarly come back to reality and is even then yelling at his troops, trying to rally their dismayed hearts and push them back into combat. It is him that Asiir reaches out with a black gloves hand, fingers once more curling insidiously in as the Mon Calamari bursts into flames before his allies, screams tearing through the air as he looks toward Asiir with overlarge terror stricken eyes, peering at his killer beneath that deep hood, and the eyes that glare hatefully back at him.

As the battle rages, both on the ground, the air, and partially in the sea, the massive device that came forth from the belly of that Dreadnought continues to submerge itself in the water, whether by necessity or simply by virtue of its enormous size. The platter the stadium-resembling cylinder is sat on is completely underwater, and the shuttles above it have their tractor beams pushing it deeper, even as an intrepid Y-Wing blows one of the many to pieces.

On the beach, the defenders rally, as a particularly charismatic Mon Calamari pushes to the front, toting a rifle the size of his torso and taking aim at the Cathar setting things on fire and chopping soldiers in half. "We will never yield to these oppressors!" he roars, raspy voice carrying hope to his comrades as he unleashes a particularly mean blast of energy.

<<Gold Four, still flying, Green Leader. Gold Two and Blue Squadron broke off, and I'm taking fire.>> The Tionese pilot guides his N-1 through a deranged series of maneuvers, trying to avoid the green lances that split the space around his battered fighter. Timing the moves of an enemy fighter, his cannons rip the sinister craft apart. <<Good news, only a hundred ninety-nine left,>> he notes, dryly.

<<This is Gold Leader, reporting in.>> a new voice comes over the Resistance comms. <<How are we doing down here, Green?>> A blinding flash comes from the sky as David Ironside maneuvers his N-1 starfighter through the battle, dodging laser fire left and right, rolling the craft and spinning it, because it's historically a good trick. Pulling the stick back, the droid behind him informs the pilot of a target lock, via the dashboard display. The Naboo-native pilot takes aim, scoring a solid hit on one of the enemy TIE fighters, causing it to trail smoke and sparks behind it.

As with any good dogfight, it takes time to zero-in on your target and get those laser blasts landed in JUST THE RIGHT spots, and as such, the Slave I's unyielding laser fire is sizzling past a panicked Mon Calamarian pilot's vessel while the pilot himself is looking side to side and shouting for backup from his wingmen.

A turret on the rear of the Mon Calamari vessel comes online, just in time to get shredded by the laser cannons on the Slave I and the gunner inside the turret comes flying out like a limp ragdog. His flightsuited body lifelessly tumbles through the air and SLAMS into the metal hull of the Slave I only to be sent around the perimeter of the ship's body and then tumble off down toward the sea!

Meanwhile, the vessel the turret gunner was just ejected from is now being hammered by the Firesprays guns, blast after blast tearing the top hull apart until the ship's engine exhaust shift from a standard blue-glow into a sputtering mess of smoke and flames! The Mon Cal craft shudders, pivots and then starts to spin out of control toward the waves below!

The Slave I banks to starboard and goes to find a new target, its own engines rumbling heavily, almost happily along.

Settling on a target, Evie tries to get into position behind one of the Mon Calamari fighters, relying on her more acrobatic talents in the air to carry her through -- but it doesn't work out for her as the fighter gets the drop on her, instead, and rocks her craft violently with a well-placed shot. Talk about learning under fire! << Ziro One still flying, shields are down but I've got this! >> she calls confidently, determined to make that her foe's first -- and last -- shot against her.

<<Copy that Four. Hang in as long as you can and give me some cover fire.>> Kirit continues to dance along the waves in Green 1, oceanic plumes rising in a twin rooster tail behind the craft to keep Ties from tucking directly behind her. Of course, this means they resort to strafing runs and so green bolts are splashing into the ocean all around her creating sudden explosions of water vapor and fried fish. Slipping back and forth between incoming attacks, she lines up on another of the tractoring shuttles and blasts it from the sky. <<That's two down. Two to go. I can only hope this is screwing with their plans... somehow.>>

The cloaked Cathar on the beach is consumed by the anger that fuels the fires burning their away through the Mon Calamari's armor and to blackening the flesh into a charred husk. Consumed so much that as the young Mon Calamari pushes his way to the front and makes his declaration to him, then shoots him in the chest on his upper left, Asiir is just too slow to have any hope of dodging. The blow is enough to knock Asiir back, the Cathar stumbling down to a knee in the sand. Stormtroopers move quickly around to stand before the fallen Knight, but they do not stop Asiir from being heard as he yells back to the young upstart, "Then you will die! All of you! FIRE!" The Troopers that had moved up to block Asiir open fire, six men targeting the one Mon Calamari, while Asiir himself stands and begins to retreat, falling back to the ships.

The device settling into the ocean continues its descent mostly undeterred by Kirit's harassment of the shuttles, although the rate has slowed slightly as a result while buoyancy chambers fill with water one by one. TIE fighters, almost unnumbered in their swarm, continue to do battle with the smaller craft as the capital ships go toe to toe. One of the Resurgent class destroyers is sporting a few smoking chambers as the Mon Cal ships focus fire on just one, trying to make a dent in those shields.

On the beach, a cheer sweeps through the defenders as the black-clad Cathar retreats from the field, the Mon Cal hero who stopped him inflating his wattle with a triumphant warble to the sky, and their efforts against the stormtroopers who've moved into the trenches themselves redoubles.

<<Would you believe me if I said it was under control? Glad to see you, Goldie,>> Ektor cracks as David Ironside swoops into this corner of the battlefield, cannons blazing. In the next breath, to Kirit, << I hear you, Green Leader; will keep 'em off you long as I can. >> His ship wheels and climbs, dodging a dozen shots, but taking one, squarely. <<Hey, Gold Leader? You know I was joking about having this under control, yeah? Hull damage, shields down again. I can take a few more.>>

With one craft out of the way, the Slave I is moving on and zipping between two more going in the opposite direction! The Firespray whirls around in a drawn-out barrel roll that ends with it curving slowly around the hull of the massive Structure that has been set down into the ocean's waters.

The Firespray-pursuit Special's cannon's come to live again as another pair of Mon Calamari patrol craft come into sight. The port side patrol fighter is ripped to pieces by the twin laser cannons, while the starboard fighter banks hard to get away from the veteran Bounty Hunter's menacing starship.

Which, by its class name's sake, is now in pursuit of it!

The shiny chrome nose of David Ironside's N-1 starfighter reflects the brightly sunlit skies of Mon Calamari as it zips through TIEs and assorted non-TIEs alike, the forces fighting in defense of the system flying all sorts of fighters, some would call it a junk fleet but those N-1s are just so sleek and good looking it doesn't apply at all to them. Gold Leader dips behind one of the only non-TIEs, taking advantage of the enemy craft's broad backside to lay some expertly placed blaster fire into it. At one point during the volley, the shields short out and the remainder of the emerald bolts smash directly into the hull. Unsatisfied, David doesn't break pursuit, following the Firespray around the furball.

Kirit should know better than to get cocky when the field is that thick. <<Alright everyone, shooting those shuttles is doing nothing. If you have torpedoes, shoot that device. Whatever it does, it can't do it any worse if we blast it to kingdom come. We can't let it settle on the bottom in one piece.>> She starts to bank towards the floating monstrosity when a pair of strafing Ties light up her shields and she jerks out of their line of fire

Now she's mad. This was supposed to be her grand entrance onto the galactic stage, her opportunity to show off for all the important eyes to see. Determined to make up for her initial failure, Evie furrows her brows and tries to get around into position on the Mon Calamari ship that got her the first time... only to prove that fortune isn't favoring the dark haired girl today as her TIE is clipped once again by the enemy craft. "Really?!" she growls away from her comms. "C'mon, Evie. you're better than this!"

A ways down the beach in the background, medical tents set up for the FO are a flurry of activity, the cries of men and women injured the sound that crashes within the ears of the staff manning those tents, waves hitting the beach hardly a sight to be taken in. Instead blood, open fractures, whimpering cries, all greet the senses and become the soundtrack to work by. Grayson is amongst those serving downed service members and officers, clad in black, a red cross on her forearms to indicate her status a medical member, which may or may not exclude her from being a target of a snipers shot in the distance, or provide relief to her as a target. Exhaustion is written on the faces all around her, Grayson currently running out to meet a gurney being ran in by two troopers towards a transport, "Commander Oakfell, a Knight of Ren is also retreating, you've orders to go directly to him."

"This woman needs immediate assistance, are there none closer to that Knight." Grayson counters immediately as she runs along side the man, her gaze searching the wounded woman, Grayson's purple nitrile covered hands peeling back the plates with practiced pinches of latches to reveal a deep wound, "Madame, our orders are to have you -" "This woman will DIE-" "Madame." "Run her with me to the transport, I will treat her on the way, do NOT argue with me or I will make a memory to be very stingy on relief for pain with you in the future and my memory is so very long." Her heavily accented voice rings out as she does a small hop up to straddle the injured female, "Keep me steady, if you wish not to have a Knight of Ren die." The troopers give the doctor acknowledgement as she reaches around into her medical kit on her hip, drawing out tools of her trade with the memory of someone who has done this a while, first job to pinch off severed arteries, blood spurting to splatter Grayson along her neck and jaw, cheeks splattered with a fine spray as the wounded woman coughs, "Hold on for me, Camella." Murmured softly, Grayson bent over, clamping this, spraying that, to the transport via a sort of ride. Wheee. Don't drop her, men!

"Gold Leader, Gold 2 back in the fight" Dosk radios as he races his N1 back into the fray, roaring up as he gains altitude and begins searching for David's ship, eventually catching sight of it in the distance and angling to intercept.

Amidst the cheers on the beach, a solitary hooded figure immerges from one of the coves with hands folded slightly in front of her. As she nears, her hand slips up across one of the Mon Cal's shoulders, adjusting them as she makes her way slowly ahead. This same hand extends out with her fingers slightly curled, head bent forward, eyes closed, the air around her visibly shifts her robes in a flapping motion and sand starts to levitate around her feet. Her palm traces one of the TIE Fighters zipping past, but it doesn't flinch before her might.

The Mon Cal around her stare, clearly having expected something... but Leia Organa Skywalker has made her appearance on the beach. Whether she's accomplishing whatever it is she was doing, her presence is still invigorating to the soldiers simply by proximity.

With no lightsabers in sight, things seem to be on a more even playing field on the beach for the time being, with the stormtroopers forced to disembark from landing craft into the shallows under heavy fire. It's not the sort of situation anyone would choose for themselves to be in, and even with TIEs making strafing runs on the beach, they're sustaining heavy losses.

Out over the water, the fight in the air continues around that massive round device starting to pick up speed as more and more of its internal chambers fill with water and the balance of buoyancy begins to reverse, the enormous mass of durasteel and hidden internal weaponry sinking more rapidly. The shuttles pushing it under are less in number, now, but it's becoming increasingly irrelevant, even as another Mon Cal cruiser crashes down into the waves, blown in two pieces.

Asiir had been making his retreat, his stride slower than had been his charge as he makes it back toward the transport and the medical tents that wait. Only once he has reached the relative safety of the area does he lift his hands to pull the hood from his head and then pull open his robe to reveal the terrible looking blaster wound to his upper left chest, and the similar looking wound that scorches and soaks the right side of his abdomen.

<< I hear you, Green,>> Ektor responds though bared teeth. "Tenner, lemme know when we're in torpedo range of that thing, yeah? The big bad floating thing, whattya think I meant?" he snaps at the squawking R2-T10. "Getting a lock through this swarm is gonna be the Hutt-sucking worst," he mutters, threading the balance of avoiding incoming fire and establishing a lock. "Got it, I got it dead-" Smiling fiercely as he looses a torpedo that looks destined to strike the sinking monstrosity in something vital. ...But it doesn't. The torpedo seems to do nothing. "Aww, you gotta be kriffing-" <<Gold Four, I dunno why but my torpedo did nothing!>>

The Slave I's shields are knocked out by the Naboo Starfighter's lasers and the pilot of the Firespray disengages his attack on the other Mon Calamari ship. The hull of the vessel is struck by some remainder splashes of the N-1's cannons, leaving scorch marks across the aft of the ship.

But its not long there after that the vessel is using the Arena Sized Thing sinking into the Ocean to fly through its outer bits and get an angle on the Naboo Starfighter. The pilot of the N-1 is zipping by and suddenly finds himself the target of those unrelenting laser cannons blasting down onto his ship and scoring a couple of decent hits against his shields!

There were better things to be done than worry about which of the Mon Calamari were putting up a fight. Though, that isn't to say Bryce wasn't impressed by their willfulness. He supposed killing their war hero added a bit of Leia to all of them. It was inevitable.

Bryce had been absent for the battle, or so it seemed. It wasn't until one of the many shuttles' lowered it's ramp midflight that he became visible. An idle hand grips one of the hydraulic struts as the half-masked Knight examines the DEVICE personally. The struggle would be over soon. "Once the device is below the water, get me to that beach to end this," he says to himself, as a cerulean eye lifts to eye the Slave I streaking by and the maneuver that leads to the N-1's colorful degradation.

The N-1 rocks with the loud and characteristic laser fire of the Firespray David had been dogfighting. A slight smirk appears on the pilot's face, in spite of everything. Why? Who knows. The ship rolls to the side, away from the giant sinking... thing. <<Gold Leader. Anyone got any idea what's sinking into the ocean? Any discernible weaknesses? Less apparent ones?>> he calls into his comm system as he dips into the furball, trying to shake the Firespray and if possible get back behind it.

Finally, the admission she didn't want to make. << This is Ziro One, I can't shake this guy! >> Evie calls over comms as she tries to focus on flying a bit more defensively, instead. Trying to make herself one with the skies, to regulate her breathing and make /some/ effort to calm her emotions. "Just pretend you're back home, Evie." she tells herself, biting into her lip. "Pretend that's Ciel back there trying to chase you down. /He/ couldn't hit you, why can this bastard?" ...maybe something clicks inside her brain this time, as while she still can't get into position on her opponent, at least the incoming fire goes wide and misses her craft this time around. Under the black helmet, she smiles. /This/ is where the battle turns for her.

<<Green Leader to Gold, hard targets usually have heavy shielding. Just keep them coming people!>> Finally, Kirit finds a respite in the fight as some of the Ties take interest in the dogfight between Slave 1 and Gold Leader. She smirks a little in her helmet as she achieves a quick target lot and sends two torpedoes at the sinking device. Ion fire from the Y-wing's turret paints the device as well though its hard to say with what effect. <<It's shields are down, people, I have positive armor scoring. Hammer it hard!>>

Grayson Oakfell is not a hero. She can not do everything and help everyone. No matter the years she has put in, no matter the time spent perfecting methods, she is fallible. And people die.

Crimson trails in the sand behind the gurney group, a steady stream of red pouring down from Camella as she bleeds out steadily from wounds that went through and through via shrapnel of an exploded vehicle the woman was in. Soon cornflower blue eyes are staring up at skies fill with streaking space craft and bursts of fire which rains destruction down to the beaches, the vision growing whiter, brighter, as Camella slips away. Everything becomes a hollow echo, the faintness of her own heartbeat skipping in her ears as things seem to slow down to near nothingness. Home. She was going home.

A pain. She could feel it. Behind her ears. A tenseness. A prickly sensation. Jaw clenched tightly, the hot swell of tears finally dancing to the surface, a long exhausting day seemingly capped off by this moment. With a stung look Grayson is sitting up on her knees, hands to her thighs, staring down at her friend who is now dead as the beach and the background bounce around her as the gurney is brought to the transport. Blood, still wet, clutched to her flesh, the acrid scent of death and life teasing and mocking.

Barely biting down a screaming cry she instead swallows down a hard lump, both hands coming up to wipe at her eyes with the back of her medical gloves, smearing the blood and sand in streaks, before she's lifting up off the gurney that has been set down. One boot to the sand, the next, heavy steps taking her to the transport where Asiir waits, Camilla left behind, face darkened with her anguish, "Knight." The word barely gotten out mid-choke, Grayson striding past the Cathar onto the transport, snapping off one pair of gloves for another from a pocket in her medical kit, "Come. Lay down." Bury the emotions. Push away the pain. The day is not done. The blood will still flow.

Today wasn't Dosk's day, as he finally re-enters the fray after having his shields knocked out, he moves to try and get a shot with proton torpedo's at the massive piece of equipment and once again gets racked by fire from an incoming TIE that knocks out his shields once again. "Well, see what you can do about it!" he shouts to the R2 unit after it shouts at him. Pulling the stick back hard the Codru'Ji attempts an immelman to get the TIE off him and buy some time for the shields to potentially kick back into action.

Leia lets her hand drop when the ends don't justify the means and turns towards the Mon Cal soldiers with fingers brushing her hood off her head. Dark hair cascades down her back as she slip the cloak from her shoulders so it pools on the sand, "Keep pushing them. Don't let them on the beach." She turns back towards the lines of white armored troopers trying to fight their way out of the shallows, hand held out towards them as she moves, a illumenous blue glow surrounding her as she advances. In her other hand, a blaster pistol is slipped out of a holster and a shot is sent wildly across the surf, grossly missing whatever she was trying to hit.

Finally, the shuttles using the reversed tractor beams to push the monstrous thing deeper into the water deactivate their beams, turning one by one to jet upwards back towards the Dreadnought above, its mighty orbital guns lobbing hot death at at the Mon Calamari's cruisers. The device itself seems to have stabilized in the water, it sends off slowly building siren that starts at a thin moan and builds to a shriek. At the height of the noise, the ring of water around its girth begins to fizzle and cloud with an inky green issuance that begins to spread and dissipate while more and more seeps out from inside its armored chambers.

In the air, dogfighting rages on, and for every TIE the defenders shoot down, it seems there are two more to take its place. A particularly intrepid Mon Cal fighter, manned by a wonderkid with big googly eyes and infectious grin, stays on Evie's tail, although the siren below distracts him long enough to look down out of his viewport at the device in the water, and seeing the issuance bubbling forth, he yells over his comms, << It's a trap! >>

<<All I know is they want it underwater, Gold Leader,>> Ektor mutters. Then Kirit reports shields down on the prime target, and he snaps off, << I hear you, Green Leader, another volley of torpedoes going live.>> Linking torpedo tubes to fire on a simultaneous lock, he guides the N-1 on another attack run, deftly dodging the TIE cannons. << I gotta lock, torpedoes away,>> he reports. The armor playing of the monstrosity bears both torpedo hits without worse than a scorch mark.

The Slave I comes around on the Naboo Fighter, which is easily more manueverable than it is, but the pilot's experience gives him a moment of opportunity that he takes and with the ringing of computer systems inside of his ship, a compartment opens up on the side of the vessel's hull and a warhead tipped Conccussion Missile shoots out of the Firespray!

"The show is starting." Fett says now, taking note of the liquid seeping into the ocean water's below. "We better find ourselves a better vantage point to watch."

While the Missile soars after the N-1 the Slave I breaks to startboard and its engines fire, propelling it upward away from the surface of the planet and away from the waters that are being tainted by the wonders of First Order science!

David's cockpit is ringing with alarms as his droid spins its domed head around and beeps a message onto the dashboard. His eyes flicker to the incoming message and then roll. "Thanks, Ones. Didn't know that." he references the missile headed their way sarcastically. Zooming over the battlefield, the missile glued to the N-1's tail, David shakes his head. The craft flies low over the water, before arcing up. The maneuver, which he'd hoped would stop the missile at any point fails, however, it staying tight behind him. An unexpected screaming TIE causes Dave to have to slam back on the throttle, causing the missile to finally strike target. Dismayed, the young pilot watches the blue hue of his shields vanish. He doesn't give it much of a thought, accelerating right back to attack speed to find the Firespray again. "Ones. Where is he?" David demands of his droid through clenched jaws.

Bryce seems unmoved by the siren and the sudden interactions from the DEVICE with the waters. The deed was done. A glance over his shoulder is offered back into the shuttle's cabin. "Get me to the beach," Bryce says coldly, "It's time to show them that their cause is lost." Bryce's masked face then turns towards the beachhard to regard the individuals there. Could it be? Someone draws his attention almost immediately.

Seizing on her sunnier optimism than before, Evie decides to try an old trick - rather than trying to race /around/ her fish-faced foe, she cuts power to her engines for a second. Only for a second, but the 'hiccup' in the craft's operation is enough to slow her TIE rather suddenly and cause the Mon Calamari fighter to jet past her. "I've got you now!" she declares triumphantly, pulling the trigger to fire and...

...nothing. Nothing. The power's still being rerouted back into place after her fancy flying, so rather than getting off prime shots against her foe? She's only able to manage a little cheapshot before her attack window is closed again. Still. /She hit him./

Horrified. That is Kirit's state of being. For a moment, she's flying dead stick with her eyes looking out of the cockpit at the sputtering water. She can only imagine what is being spewed into the water. "What's happening?" Kavin asks from the gunner's chair. "You... you don't want to know." Kirit doesn't know what to do. For all that she is an engineer, a metallurgist, a machinist, a ship designer, physicist with knowledge of Imperial tricks of the trade.. none of this avails her. <<When in doubt, vaporize it. Come on people. We need to burn out the water. Fast! Chemicals are only functional at their optimal temperature and if it's a biological agent we might kill it before it disperses too badly!>> She pushes the stick forward and goes into a dive, angry red cannons are angry and the water begins to steam. "Kavin, keep plastering that device. We can only hope you'll disable.. something."

The fury of the Cathar is met with the anguish of the Human female who treats him board the transport. As Asiir lays down Grayson is moving with her scanner, checking out the extent of his injuries, the fact that the Cathar was able to get himself there already putting him in the higher echelons of surviving his injuries over others. Given that Asiir already peeled away his robes to expose his wounds to her Grayson is easily able to settle in to not having to cut him out of his, instead focusing on beginning to treat him almost immediately, "You will fight again shortly." Managed tightly, Grayson setting to his most grevious wound first, a hyponeedle prepped before it's stabbed into one wound, chromastring helping get it nice and deep, the second wound getting a second shot of that hypo which is tucked away with a reach around her own back to settle it into it's place on her belt, the woman working quickly, tears fought, brown eyes hazed by a thin film of the things, but the sting of them feels good.

Beyond Asiir her gaze will draw quickly, seeing the carnage still occurring, hearing those screams as more people are mowed down, her gaze dropping once more, a length of hair dropping from her haphazardly re-set bun to cling to a bloodied cheek. The biggest wound is set upon then, Grayson bent over Asiir, "But not too shortly, these are too deep." Murmured, a twitch beginning in the tip of her nose. Push it down. Focus. Inhale slowly. Exhale slowly. Just focus. Twitch. Twitch. Cut that there. Pinch that off there. Suture here. She should have shaved his fur, the stench of burnt fur and flesh is crowding into her mind. The sight of those cornblue eyes staring at nothing. Too much is burnt, "Keep working." Softly to herself, jaw set.

As Dosk comes out of his maneuver, his shields kick back online, although still far from being fully charged, his positioning setting him up to find the large device just before him, he figures 'what the hell' and fires off a proton volley which manages to hit, causing a shallow, pockmark hole in the armor. << I got slight penetration on the device>> he radios as he yanks back on the stick, juking through the swarms of TIE fighters.

Just as things are getting real nasty with environmental disaster-to-be fizzing green stuff into the delicate marine ecosystem, a wave of ground support arrives...in favor of the natives. Some nondescript transport comes in hot to bank hard, which sends a wave of sand and dune plants blasting high under the final thrust. When the belly opens up, Resistance troopers come spilling out. Plop, plop, plop boots into the soft landing. The final pair to land belong to some old rebel broad who's done this thing a time or two. There's a second General in this beach party now, and she surveys the line of First Order advancement with a deep, grim squint of crow's feet from behind her lowering visor. "FORM UP!" she barks at their backsides, forgoing any fancy speech or inspiring pep talk because that's just not in 'grumpy' Greystorm's repertoire. She needn't have even snipped out those two syllables, anyway. The troops are already hoofing it forward. Ambrosia trots along on their heels until they've found a decent enough spot to dig in and prepare to fire, then keys up her comm to announce "Greystorm, checking in. Don't suppose they're servin up any Starshine Special at this party?"

It took a little more time than he'd hoped, and the ship itself isn't speedy...but Renegade is ready for battle. The two-story bridge is buzzing as the Rebel Assault Frigate prepares to exit hyperspace, and enter the fight. Gren Delede, Admiral of this rag-tag fleet, is standing next to the command chair. He's found time to change into a proper uniform, though he's still somewhat sweaty, a keepsake of having just landed post dogfight, and he wears the uniform jacket open around the collar. The officer lifts a hand mic from the arm of his chair, and holds it to his lips. "All hands. Prepare to engage the enemy. I repeat. All hands. Battlestations." A deep breath is taken, and he tosses the mic down to hand from it's twisted cord. Klaxons begin to sound across the ship, and the former Imperial officer looks toward the XO, Commander Looper. "Begin the countdown, Commander." T-minus 5 seconds.

Moments before the arrival of the Resistance Fleet, such as it is, Red Squadron arrives in system. <<Red One to Red Squadron. Begin the attack run on that damaged Star Destroyer.>> Captain Snap Wexley, returned to the fold so recently gives the order, and the mixed squadron of ARC-170s and Z95 Headhunters move to comply with that order, zipping through the furball, and launching warhead salvos at damaged portions of shielding, hoping to clear a path for Renegade's turbolaser batteries.

The Assault Frigate Renegade enters the Mon Calamari system, as close to the First Order fleet as the astrogater could plot. It's defensive laser cannons begin to light up the vicinty, gunners excited to finally fire their weapons in anger. They aim to pepper any TIE that strays too close. To Starboard, a much smaller capital ship exits hyperspace, and also opens up with defensive fire. Delede slides into his command chair, satisified that they didn't end up inside of the planet, and swings over his command console. "Firing solutions headed your way in a moment, Guns." Time to start plotting firing solutions for the crucial first pass, when they are in range.

Zhu Yan was packed into his X-Wing like a space-SARDINE. He'd received the call from Gren Delede and promptly ignored it. Then metaphorical fat wad of cash was figuratively waved under his hypothetical nose and when Yan proverbially sniffs money, it's like a magnet. He had wasted no time (actually a lot of time because he was super lazy) dusting off the Heartbreak 1, loading Reddie the R3 Astromech into it, ignoring her complaints about running off into danger and getting them all killed and how she'd never forgive him for being a bad son and why doesn't he ever call or write and threatening to kill herself for raising him poorly, and jetting off to the Resistance rendezvous. Or were they the Rebellion now? Yan wasn't paying attention.

As the Renegade reverted to realspace, so too did the Heartbreak 1. His Astrogate skills were pretty dank and as such he'd appeared tucked in right under the big Assault Frigate, shielded from enemy fire. Phew! That could have gone real badly. Keeping his comm silent, he hit the thrusters and started barreling towards the planet at top speed. Above him was a lever. Yan pulled that lever, and a smile appeared on his face as the distinctive low whine of S-foils opening filled the cockpit. Satisfying.

Leia's shield deflects far more blaster fire than she actually manages to dodge herself, urging the Mon Cal to hold the trenches from the front. Wind kicks her hair around, damp now from the surf spray, she's scanning the incoming shuttles and... there in one of the hatches.

Leia spies Bryce spying her and hoists her blaster pistol up to point directly at him. It's telegraphed, whether she intends to hit him or not, and the shot hits the shuttles shields rather than coming anywhere near the Knight.

"Prepare for enemy Force User. Powerful. Stay away from him... he has something of mine and I'm getting it back." To the Mon Cal and approaching Resistance troopers. "General." To Amber. "Keep the line secure."

Leia leaps over the trench line and starts walking out across the beach with her eyes up on Bryce.

Bryce's shuttle comes to hover near the beach, twisting in the air to bring him about to eye the battle going on beneath them. How pointless. Just as he's able to settle on Leia, he steps to the side quickly, sensing the incoming attack. It dissipates in the shielding in front of him, and he lets out an exhale.

"Rude," he mutters, before he turns to wave the shuttle pilot closer. Bryce had no interest in jumping into the presumably toxic waters beneath them, and the shuttle glides a short distance away before Bryce jumps from the ramp. As he does, his crimson lightsaber comes to life. Asiir had weakened them. Now it was his turn.

Chaos was not a strong enough word to describe everything going on here and now, and it had been a day to remember so far, but one that was clearly far from over at the same time.

On a Mon Calamari speeder, piloted by Finn, Rey suddenly stands up while the speeder comes soaring down the sandy dunes of the beach. "There she is!" She shouts to Finn.

"I see her!" Finn responds to her. Together the two of them had been flying about, with Rey using her telekinetic powers to pull First Order soldiers back, or shove them across the battlefield and now she was standing up on the edge of the speeder.

"Pull up alongside her!" Rey says to her friend who angles the speeder in that direction. "I'll not let that cretin take her or harm her again!"

And when the speeder comes zipping by, Rey leaps off of it to land between Leia and Bryce, she knew that Leia had lost her saber to these dark creatures, so she felt even more protective of the last Skywalker now.

Rey lands in the space between Leia and Dreman, she pulls the army helmet off of her head and tosses it aside while her hand reaches for her belt and draws her lightsaber.

Her ocean-blue lightsaber ignites and she lifts it up to bare while staring at him. Now it was Rey's turn...

On the First Order capital ship bridges, proximity sensors go berserk as a bundle of Resistance capital-grade ships come shooting in from hyperspace, technicians hurriedly striding across polished walkways to commanding officers with news of incoming enemy ships. The Star Destroyers hurriedly begin to pivot in space, trying to reangle themselves to these newcomers for full-on broadsides exchanges of fire.

TIE fighters howl and scream as they dart through the air, still going head-on against the Mon Calamari's dwindling planetary defense force. That wonderkid Mon Cal going tit for tat with Evie looks up towards the new arrivals with those big, googley eyes. << It was OUR trap! >> he decides over the comms, and a new fan of the Resistance is born.

On the beach, Stormtroopers have taken over the first trench in the sand, bringing up E-Web turrets and emplacing them in the pillboxes amidst the corpses of fallen defenders. TIEs continue to hammer the ground troops, friend and foe, with aerial strafe runs. All is chaos and confusion, smoke and death, and out in the sea, that massive device squats low in the waves, barely harmed by the bombardments thus far, a ring of toxic green diffusing out from its massive shape. As it continues to spread, roiling in the water, a few badly burned fish begin to bob in the tide.

Asiir grunts as that hypo needle is stabbed into his wound by Grayson. A soft hiss allowed to slide past clenched teeth as he looks up at the doctor working over him. The growl begins to roll from his chest and throat as she works inside the deep wound of charred and burned flesh. "Hey," he growls up to Grayson, amber eyes looking toward hers. "Focus. Just breath and work. Don't worry about what's going on out there. One patient at a time. Just get me patched up to where I can command the troops and it will be okay...." he says, trying to reassure the doctor until his voice trails away.

His visage becomes somewhat far away, his eyes distant for a brief moment before he says, "I have to go, now. Something has changed." With that, the Cathar begins trying to sit up, wounds be damned and then unless Grayson should somehow stop him, he will run down the ramp back onto the beach while tugging the hood back up and over his head, his lightsaber flaring back to life as he scans the field.

Ektor gets the signal from Tenner that his erstwhile wingman is back in the fight, and has reported a hit. "Drek," he curses, seeing the limited effect of his torpedoes and the rest of Gold Squadron in the deep dogfight above him, and makes the snap decision to veer away from the planet, back toward the deadly swarm of TIEs. Spotting one TIE on the tail of a poor defenseless Mon Cal wonderkid, he sets an attack course, and roars toward the offending TIE, just in time to see the Renegade emerge from hyperspace. He manages a short-lived grin, as he sweeps between the Mon Cal ship and it's pursuer. His blaster cannons find no purchase in the pass, and he takes a hit that collapses his weak shields, and starts one engine trailing smoke, sparks, and bad decisions.

"He's gone, isn't he?" David Ironside asks his droid of the missing Firespray. The droid beeps and whistles some, translating on the dashboard display as "Eeeeyup." but in Aurebesh. "That son of a.. I almost had him. Next time." The pilot flies low over the water, watching the green contaminant approaching in the distance. The craft turns towards a beach, one of the engines lightly skimming the water, not enough for resistance to take effect. As the Renegade appears overhead along with Red Squadron, there's at least one Resistance taking effect. <<Welcome back, Admiral.>> Dave calls out over the comms as he lines up a volley with the beachhead. The green bolts blow sand and water into the air, and hopefully some Stormtroopers as well. The craft is too fast for Dave to check back, and honestly it was just him venting out his frustration at losing the Firespray amidst nothing but TIEs.

Bryce eyes Rey a moment quietly. He would smirk, if the mask didn't cover it up, anyway. Rather, his one visible eye settles on the girl. It was the first time he'd gotten a chance to see her, truly. The digital voice rings clear, distinctly different from his master's. "A noble effort, but, the world is lost. Don't let your pride prevent you from protecting your people," Bryce offers, looking over Rey's shoulders quickly to eye Leia. He wondered if the words would ring true in either of them. A beat, and then, "Or is it anger?" Bryce straightens into a centering stance. His free hand rises to midchest and settles into a practiced position to center his balance. His lightsaber, meanwhile, rests low and away from himself, towards his right.

Evie was going to get him. She was! It was just a matter of time until that Mon Calamari that had ruined her grand debut would be nothing but a memory. At least, until a new challenger approaches. "Huh?" the Kuati pilot asks before noticing another ship seeming to come to the aid of her primary target. "Hey, back off, he's mine!" she yells in the cockpit as if her voice would carry across the void rather than echoing through the metal craft, fingers flying even as she seethes to adjust and dodge out of the way of her newest foe's fire... and to launch off a beautifully aimed volley of her own. Oh yes, the tides have changed and the void is with Evie today. That helmet's likely feeling a little tighter now that her ego's returning.

Quit. Kirit does not know the meaning of the word. This thing is the size of a freighter. There's no reason in all the metals in all the world that this thing should still be intact. Even as she arcs around gaining altitude, she watches two more torpedoes strike the thing and rock it. "Kref it, Kavin. I'm coming around hard. You're strapped in right? You just keep that water steaming. I'm sending in another two." She works the yaw and rolls the Y-wing inverted and is glad she's in a grav-chair as she now looks up at water flashing by at speed.. well.. keep your eyes on target. She vaguely notes the rocking of the ship as blaster fire zings passed and the ion turret continues to fire. Her characteristic erratic stick keeps her nose on target until she gets a target lock again and sends two more torpedoes on target. Flashing over the giant buoy, she looks to see the results. <<By the Force, I think we might be denting that thing after all!>> She exhales heavily in relief and pushes forward on the stick to angle for open air.

Grayson Oakfell keeps her gaze fixed on Asiir's wounds, not meeting his eyes or searching his out. The medical officer is on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and it takes every bit of her focus on that wound to keep her together. The words of the Cathar are not helping her keep that focus, the mans' words continuously breaking through the silent mantra that plays through in her mind, the growl of the words not calming. So when he attempts to break away from her she doesn't fight him, the sonic scalpel tossed down on the bed as the Cathar flies away, her attempt to begin working on the second wound countered, which is good because her hands began to shake as the transport shook with impact of shots fired at it, so she may have done more damage than good had the Cathar stuck behind.

As soon as he is out she's turning and sinking down, knees drawn to her chest, body rocking back into the cot Asiir was on moments before, elbows on her knees, hands curling fingers and palm in against her mouth, nose and eyes, a heavy sob escaping her as she sunk into the pose. "Commander Oakfell, you've been requested to th-" Called as a Trooper steps up onto the ramp of the transport, holding to the framed entryway, Grayson sucking in a deep breath before yelling, "TWO MINUTES, I am in need of /two/, let me - let me b-breathe." One hand had fallen away from her face to shake at the Trooper who takes a half-step back, reporting instead that the Commander was just finishing up, she would be on her way immediately.

Gray, for her part, is not, but she would be. She couldn't breathe. Sucking in air her head tilts back, hands smoothing over her face, up into her hair, back through her bun, yanking it further out from it's once perfect countenance. Continued shocks from missiles dropped from above shudder through the transport, nails digging down into her scalp. A hard swallow, then a scramble to lift up her hips to reach back into her kit, drawing out a small purse filled with pills around to rest in against her knees.

A look down as it's unsnapped, an array of medications there. Dark brown eyes would scan, fingers shakily pulling out one packet shakily, the pills emptied into a palm and vaulted between parted lips. She chews, the medicinal sting melting into her tongue, bitterness sweet, the needed initial shock before all would be right. She only needs one minute more. She promised two. Just one. A cloying calm eases first in through the nape of her neck then outwards. Okay. "Okay. Okay .." The packet of meds are re-secured, Gray lifting her hips again, heels dug into the plating of the transport, returned to where it is needed. Okay. Unsteadily she would rise. Hands once more wiping at her face, hair left in disarray, hands falling to tug at the bottom of her uniform coat. Okay. And back out into the din she would go. The doctor guided by that trooper with a hand to her back, ducking to avoid flashes of sand and shrapnel. The world afire around her, a numbness growing to push it all away.

It's a moment Pash Danigo always knew would come, being caught in the middle of this damned war, TIEs howling overhead and blaster fire whizzing past him. And, like he expected, it sucks. "Take a day off, they told me." The man is caught on the beach, muttering to himself. "Just relax." When it started, he had just finished a job and chose to extend his stay by a few days. Now, he's struggling to make his way back to his freighter after being caught in the firefight along the coast. "This is why I never do that!" He takes a few shots at the enemy (that's what he's considering stormtroopers to be, because they keep shooting at him) and moves, boots kicking up sand with each frantic step.

Dosk begins moving to make another pass with his proton torpedos just as another of the TIE swarm move in from his port side and light his Naboo fighter up, the shields popping easilly and the hull getting pegged hard. "Gold Leader this is Gold 2, im gonna have to try and pull out, the hull shredded, Gonna try to make it back to the Renegade." He says as smoke emits from one of his engines.

"Here's hoping," Amber answers back with a gloved thumbs-up to the petite princess as the latter goes marching on out into no-man's land. A mutter of 'good luck', is mostly muffled by a sigh of static while she hunkers down to get comfy. Isn't long before her pistol is also taking aim over the trench and joining her brethren in laying down suppressive fire, keen eye reserved for any bucketheads looking antsy to chance a hop over their trench. Couple of her men are setting up their own heavy artillery. As red and charred as the sand may be, it's doomed only to get worse. A pair of red bolts fired from her hand find their marks and two boys/girls in white crumple back into their hole, lifeless as the fish washing up in the surf behind them.

Under the sand, scuttling crustaceans and tunneling worms suffer in silence, many of them among the scores of uncounted casualties that those the heavy footfalls, plasma bursts, scalding chemicals, and sonic blasts happening topside have doomed to anihilation. To the left of Ambrosia's propped elbow, the dirtied grains begin to tremor then fall away. A tiny, green crab pops up scurry away from this madness into a neighboring burrow some meters behind!

<<Mon Calamari ships. Renegade transmitting. Resistance is here for you. I'm asking you to join our formation, and engage our target. I'm receiving intel that these monsters are trying to poison your world. We're outgunned...you've been stalwart defenders. We need ferocious attackers.>> Gren's voice crackles over what Comms have isolated as friendly frequencies, his fingers still working his command console. "Weps, firing solution coming your way. I like it better than yours. Fire at will." Sheets of turbolaser fire bark from the Assault Frigate as it moves at flank speed toward the targeted Star Destroyer.

The Renegade shudders, and shields begin to glow as fire is returned. The lights flicker, but the ship holds strong for the moment. Sacrifice remains in close formation, adding it's own turbolasers to the barrage, much fewer in number, though they may be. <<Heartbreaker. Good to see you. Red Squadron could use some help. A few less turbolasers on that bastard wouldn't go amiss.>> Just a suggestion from Gren. <<All Squadrons, sitrep.>>

Red Squadron's volleys are well coordinated by Captains Wexley, and certain Death Star killing Sullustan. The ARC-170s are unwieldy, though. Their gunners have their work cut out for them, trying to defend against incoming TIE fighters. Still, they seem to be clearing a path for Renegade and Co's gunners.

Dogfighting was like boxing. Bob and weave. Stick and move, or you'll get laid out. Yan was a good pilot. He'd even call himself the greatest pilot in the galaxy. He was, of course, wrong. His singleminded determination towards chasing down a random TIE Fighter opened him up to another one. It was only when green bolts started flying past his canopy that he realized he was in distress! "Sithspit! Reddie!" he exclaimed, shoving the stick left, down, and corkscrewing towards the ground. "Why didn't you tell me I was in trouble?!" He levelled the fighter out and hit the thrusters again, heading full-tilt towards this big ugly motherfracker in the water. There was beeping from behind him, and Zhu Yan didn't even need to read the translation screen to know that Reddie was saying 'Why? You never listen to me anyway! Oy, is it too much to ask for my owner to pay attention to his dear astromech once in a while?!'

"Disappointment." Leia corrects Bryce with a frown, herself watching as Rey leaps into action beside her with lightsaber burning bright. Her dark eyes return to the masked figure with her own hands out, palms facing towards the Knight. "Disappointed that you'll have weak excuse why this is acceptable... Disappointed that you will, no doubt, blame Kylo for this action and yet, here you stand supporting it regardless of what you will profess is not the way you would handle it."

She keeps her eyes locked on him, that one eye visible off the side of his mask, "Disappointed that so many people have to die for him to prove how badly he wants for stability... Disappointed in both of you that you have so thoroughly fallen to the Darkside that you cannot tell right from insideously wrong."

She raises a hand to rest on Rey's shoulder, "Disappointed in your weak attempt to play word games with me, like it's the first time I've someone has ever tried to paint my actions as anything, short of defiance of just how disappointing you..." Her hand raises from Rey's shoulder to point out towards the giant machine, "...and that, are."

Rey's dark hair is strewn about her face in strands waving in the winds off of the waters. She stares at Dreman as he speaks out to her about pride, and anger. She has no comment for those things and she has no reason to speak on the condition of the world as a whole, she knows the First Order cares nothing for the people of this planet, or the rest in the galaxy.

"You were one of his, weren't you?" She says to Bryce with a gut feeling pulling the words from inside her, her voice carrying past the grwoling of her readied lightsaber and the chaos of the battle. "One of Luke's?" She adds before softly shaking her head side to side. "How can you... so _completely_ fail someone?"

With a shift of her feet she takes a step to her left but keeps her gaze on him, blocking him from looking past her toward Leia, protective of her like a child might be of a parent. "He believed in you! That you would uphold justice and save lives, not BURN them away without remorse!" And that last part was shouted more aggressively at the man in black suggesting that the girl with the shimmer blue saber was prepared to strike.

But Leia's hand coming down on her shoulder stilled her nerves and calmed her presence in the Force. Her eyes flicker from Leia's hand, then return to Bryce and after Leia speaks, Rey just gently nods her head in Leia's direction to her side and adds.

"And all of that too."

Sesti is lagging behind the rest of those vacating the first trench for the second, and the answer for that is a Resistance Trooper hanging onto her arm with one hand as they move. The trooper's other arm is wrapped tightly across their chest, and they stumble forward. The slower moving target draws the attention of an advancing FO that is one of the first to step up and try to close towards the second trench. Catching sight from the corner of her eye, Sesti disengages from the Resistence fighter and gives them a gentle shove to keep them moving as her vibroblade comes out of its sheath and slashes towards the FO before they can bring their blaster to bear.

Jax was wearing his jedi robes and armor and oddly enough he wasn't that far from the other Force Senstive folks as they debate their disappointments in the Supreme Leader and Bryce. Though at the moment he was helping his wife and the wounded Resistance Soldier escape. He does take time to call out, "I agree with them. " He then turns back to attack a Stormtrooper moving in on his wife's positon. "Worry about the wounded, I'll cover your escape."

The already chaotic beach becomes just a little more crowded as another black clad figure steps off a shuttle and onto the sand. Flashes of colorful light are reflected off the metal bits of the otherwise black mask, a long stride carrying Ravelyn at a quick clip in Bryce's direction. The approach stops with some distance between them yet, standing off to one side, appearing to simply listen as much as one can through the cacophony of battle to the exchange taking place between Bryce, Leia, and Rey.

One Resurgent class is taking a beating, shields struggling to cope with the concentration of fire from the remaining Mon Calamari cruisers and the newly-arrived Resistance ships, among them a number of crack pilots hammering the ship's already depleted defenses. Smoke and flame go up from a number of strategic softpoints, announcing the relative success of the simple but effective tactics being employed.

On the beach, the exchange of fire between Resistance, Mon Cal, and stormtroopers continues, as the E-Web emplacements set up in that trench there begin to spit repeating fire towards the defenders, providing cover for the next wave to hop out and make a mad dash for the next trench. Many are shot down crossing the distance, but here and there one breaks free and hops down among the defenders, usually not managing to take many out before being shot, but the more times it happens, the less Mon Calamari there are to stop it.

Out at sea, the enormous device the size of a spectator sport stadium, fully three hundred meters or more in diameter, continues to exude its toxic cargo into the ecosystem, and while the Y-Wing and N1 fighters assaulting it have scratched the surface, it's pumping out in a 360 degree ring so large and deep it's nearly impossible to vaporize it all. TIEs continue to swarm furiously around it, doing everything they can to shoot down the harrying defense squadrons.

It doesn't take Asiir long to find Bryce where he stands on the beach, speaking with the two women. He takes off, charging across the sands in their direction, and whether the Mon Calamari remember him from earlier in the battle and don't wish to draw his attention, or perhaps he is just flying beneath the radar, he manages to make it close to the trio without drawing any fire toward him. His breathing is a little ragged from his wounds as he runs, and when he stops there is a definite pained expression hidden beneath the deep hood.

Bryce felt Leia's words, but he wondered if that seed wasn't already reaching into the deep waters of her mind for purchase. He wondered. "I'm free of the wheel," Bryce regards to Leia, before Rey is bringing up the past, and his eye returns to her. "Twice betrayed and unsuited to betray in kind, is that the Jedi way?" Bryce asks of Rey, wondering where the seeds were in her own heart. "No," Bryce says, "Luke chose to kill my friend. I choose freedom," Bryce says, quietly. "Freedom from the wheel that would see us crushed beneath it. Recall your forces and leave this world to defeat. Choose freedom," Bryce says, with a bit of finality, "Break the wheel." Soon, Bryce is flanked by Asiir, and he offers him a sidelong glance.

Ektor reports, <<Gold Four, I'm down one engine, shields, sensors and- drek, landing gear are offline. Torpedoes are spent, but I'm still up.>> Flying evasively, teeth grinding as pilot works with a barely functioning fighter, and Astromech scrambles from bypass to bypass in order to keep the remaining systems online. "Tenner, prioritize engines, then shields, then life support if I take another hit, yeah?" Another honk and warble answer him. "I know, I'm feeling optimistic." <<Just lost power to weapons. Trying to get clear, here.>>

David Ironside in turn reports <<Gold Leader. Backing up Green at the contamination station.>> He turns the fighter in the direction of said station, firing his blaster cannons where necessary, not even to kill but to get some TIEs off the bombers backs. <<Gold 4, are your repulsorlifts still working? See if you can do anything about the landing gear before heading in for repairs.>> He glances out of the cockpit at the green perimeter around the device, scowling. "What's their play here?" he asks of nobody in particular, staying close to Green Squadron on their attack run.

Dosk's N-1 heads up and out at an angle as he faces the ship toward the Renegade primarilly, still using sporratic flying to keep an eye on his tail "Keep me updated" he says to the R2 unit positioned behind the cockpit. The smoke eventually subsiding from the engine, though it is definitely on its last leg. As he gets higher up and can focus a bit more on the heavy hitters above trading blows he finds himself a bit awestruck at the site, the view below of the chemicals pouring into the Mon Calamari at his every higher altitude a bit shocking.

<<Thanks for the cover, Gold.>> Kirit comms as her Y-wing stalls out in her vertical flight. Intentionally, it would seem. The nose arcs back down towards the planet and she guns the throttle. It doesn't leave Kavin much time to shoot but then she also doesn't need much of a firing solution either. What it does is keep Ties off of her crazy Verpine hide. Two more torpedoes discharge and she pulls hard on the yoke to skim the surface of the ocean. <<Green Lead to Renegade. I'm down to two torpedoes and we're only denting this thing. I think I'm the only bomber out here. Please advise where you want them.>>

FWOOM. Pressure unlike she's ever felt before smashes into Grayson, her body hitting the ground heavily as ringing begins to prick in her ears at a sharp decibal. NnnNNnnnnNNNNnnnnnnnnnnn. If asked she wouldn't be able to identify what was hit, nor it's distance from her, just that as her bleary double-vision began to sync together all around her was black smoke and a heavy weight upon her, the skies breaking in brilliant blue with softly shifting clouds above. Gasping out her head would lift, the troopers body partially atop hers, pinning her down, his head tucked in against her shoulder as if we were sleeping. Her hands would push at his body, a throaty cry beginning to rumble in her throat as she put all her upper body strength into pushing the man away and off her, his body rolling limply to the side, freeing her. No pain, the drugs so thick in her body now, but confusion reigns freely in her head, the whole scene before her pure carnage with bodies stumbled over in the sand, her boots sinking down into the bloodied sand as she staggers aimlessly. One bloodied hand is held in against her head to try and still the ringing, a sudden pressure to her left felt as someone takes her arm, forcing her at a run to follow them, the woman faltering and tripping over herself, half-dragged for a transport scheduled to leave.

As he races across the sandy front, Pash casts a sidelong glance out to sea. The technological behemoth out there makes his skin crawl, so he's almost thankful when the trooper he just missed fires back. Reflexively, he goes for a tuck and roll across the floor, but manages to pull more of a dive into the soft sand. Anyway, he doesn't get shot, and that's nice. "Dangit!" the smuggler shouts, pushing himself back to his feet to take a couple more shots at the white-armored jerk, both of which go wide. He curses again and makes a run for it, eyeballing some poor-looking soldiers he assumes are resistance and heading that way. "Sanctuary!?" he shouts, unsure of whether or not that's right term.

Karas has been busy, him and Blue 2, though Blue 2 had to wave off and land due tot eh damage he had taken. Having landed, refueled and re-armed, the A-Wing blazes through space. Karas has the throttle Maxed as he races back to help with the battle, evading heavy blaster fire, Karas quickly attempts to line up a shot on a TIE. <<Can I get Sitrep?>> he asks.

A whiff of ozone blows by over Ambrosia's shoulder and a second shot burns into the sand several inches short of its target - presumably her face. "Almost.." Ambrosia whistles lowly under her breath but doesn't move, save for a glance aside to check her offspring and offspring-in-law's progression over here. Not liking how close one of the brave FO soldiers is getting to overtaking their position, she pops off another couple rounds. One strikes, one's a miss. A grumbling mutter of self-deprecation gets just a few seconds in before a distant shout of 'sanctuary!' audios in through her helmet. Doesn't sound like a local! Ambrosia gophers her head up a little higher to spot the source of the shouting (well, /that/ shouting), pegs Pash as presumably panicking civilian, and waves her arm once through the air for him to jump "IN HERE!"

<<If you're out of warheads, or too damaged to fight...get back to the ship, and find something else that flies.>> Gren's voice sounds impatient as he listens to reports from a number of junior officers, and watches the holo display of the battle with an intent look on his face. The ship is continually shaking now, as it takes fire from the damaged Star Destroyer, and its brethern. "Start the roll, Helm....give them a fresh shield." And...Helm is good, clearly. The fresh shields slowly begin to soak up much of the fires. "Oh." A brief pause..."OH!. Sacrifice, manuever to port, and slip in behind the target. Start working on those engines." He seems to have seen something on the holo-table that he likes. He stands, and walks toward it, barking further orders over his shoulder at a junior officer. "Get those sent to the Mon Cals. We'll capitalize on the damage that we've done!" His mood is different on the Bridge. He's a ball of nervous energy, and intense. Far removed from the man that remains cool as an Iced Wampa in a starfigher's cockpit. He doesn't like it here.

Renegade's turbolasers continue their effective fire. <<You've got eyes on the situation, Green Leader. Maximize your damage.>> Gren's voice snaps across the comms, and then he's switching channels, dealing with other business. Red Squadron continues to fight as effectively as one would expect. They aren't taking much damage, just yet. Their luck is sure to turn.

Zhu Yan was doing a terrible job of ignoring his loudly complaining astromech. "Auth one three three seven mark," said Yan into his own internal comms. Reddie abruptly shut up. When you have a highly personable astromech, sometimes that personality just needed to be shut off. She was in pure computational mode now. Finally, some peace and quiet.

He flew low over the ocean, keeping the number of metres between him and the water in the single digits. He was punching code into the shipboard computer. Scanning code. He needed to get a read on this big ol' green spewin' machine in the ocean. At least one TIE Fighter had spotted him, and was on approach at nearly head on. He twitched the stick back, pulling up slightly, and fired a burst of BLATBLATBLAT at the interloper. He witnessed good hits, smoke, sparks, but didn't bother to confirm the kill. He had a mission. The water behind him nearly exploded as he reapproached that exceptionally low cruising level, and the wake being kicked up behind him was immense. The scan data was more important than a single TIE. Eventually, his console pinged.

"Reddie, tight-beam these scans to the Renegade," he said. 'ACKNOWLEDGED' was the response. Nice and efficient for a change. He followed it up with opening a comm channel. <<"Renegade, Heartbreak One. Transmitting scans.">> The Heartbreak One blasted past the machine o' death, covering it in water from his wake. <<"Gren, torps aren't going to do anything. That armor is going to take turbolasers to crack unless you get a bomb into this underwater weakness I've found. Over.">>

"That's not betraying the wheel, that's betraying ideals." Leia shakes her head at Bryce, "If your goal here is to frighten the people of the Galaxy by destroying the world of a species who wont bend to the will of the First Order..." She glances back over her shoulder at the soldiers holding the trenches, "They don't look scared to me..." Can they stop the poison from spreading across the ocean planet? The General isn't sure, but she can keep the Knights busy while her forces fight the Stormtroopers storming the trenches.

"Freedom... you're chained to one man's response to another man's mistake. Your friend is willing to kill millions, billions even... That's stability? This doesn't prove his ability to protect the galaxy, it only proves that his willingness to destroy it."

More Knights joining Bryce doesn't seem to sway her, either. She meets their gaze equally, fists down and palms out towards them. She's got no weapon in hand, but that doesn't mean she's not capable of defending herself.

"You clearly don't know me very well." Defiant, but calm, the General shakes her head once more and sucks her teeth, "Your freedom has flaws."

Rey's eyes move to the form of Ravelyn as she strides in... thats a new figure, one she's not yet seen up to this point and then that new figure is joined by Asiir. Just how many of them are there? Were these students of Luke's as well?

Her eyes return to Dreman when he responds to she and Leia, her eyelids close into a narrower glare. Jax isn't far, but even with him she knows their numbers don't look great next to the Knights of Ren's.

The young woman continues to stand alongside Leia though, while the elder speaks the words of wisdom that she's come to admire so very much. Her lightsaber is kept up at her side and ignited, she's ready to defend both of them if needs be.

"We both have to escape," Sesti reminds her husband as little groups are starting to dart across the sand. Gauging how far her patient has made it and how fast they're going, she continues walking backwards towards the trench. They leave the bodies of the two that just attacked them on the sand, and keep retreating.

Jax responds, "Your right and I'll be there soon. I have others to go help try to get out of harms way. Get the injured to safety and keep the General safe please." He smiles at his wife. Then turning he pulls up his hood again. Then he goes making his way across the battlefield to join Leia and Rey. He stands on Leia's other side. His lightsaber at the ready.

"All freedom has flaws when given to flawed beings." Ravelyn's voice is distorted through the mask, giving it an almost sharper sound that cuts through other noise and allows it to carry further than it otherwise would. "Your own brand of freedom is as deeply flawed as any other. Look to your people and you'll see that plainly enough." The masked face turns to face Rey, head tilting to a silght angle as the person behind the mask studies the young woman standing with Leia. Without moving more than one hand, some poor MonCal within Ravelyn's sight is lifted into the air by an invisible force, a sickening crack follows, and then the body drops to the ground near Leia. "How many more are you willing to sacrifice before you stand down?"

There's a lot of talk of 'freedom' on the beach, but the conflict between the stormtroopers trying to expand their beachhead and the dwindling Mon Cal/Resistance coalition continues to rage, both sides throwing shots back and forth across the sand stained red and black with blood and soot and scorchmarks from the fire, craters smoking where strafing runs have blown holes in the beach.

Out at sea, the device continues to pump inky green toxins deep into the waves, its sinister effects beginning to become sickeningly clear as more and more marine life, burned and steaming from some sort of noxious acid, begin to bob and float to the surface.

Higher up above the atmosphere, the Destroyers have turned to face the new threat, the Dreadnought slowly orienting its incredible orbital guns toward the Renegade for a volley. One of them is in trouble, though, a Resurgent class that has taken the brunt of the beating from both the Mon Cal cruisers and the Resistance ships, and it struggles lamely to keep itself oriented where its shields are still relatively strong with limited success against the more maneuverable craft, too many of its TIEs engaged in the dogfight around the device sunk in the water.

Asiir stands still at the side of Bryce and this other Knight, not reacting at all as the Mon Calamari is plucked up into the air and then dropped to the sand unmoving. His attention moves to Rey as well, peering intently at the woman from beneath his hood, his grip on his lightsaber tightening and the weapon turning idly, red and green blades reversing positions as the weapon slowly rotates as if struggling to remain still in his hand.

Ektor manages not to shake his crippled fighter apart with a sharp banking turn that gets him clear of the furious dogfight. Half hearing David through his faltering comm, he echoes, "Repulsors? That what he said? Tenner, see what you can stitch together, yeah?" A bit of scorched hull plating near the cockpit breaks away. "Didn't need that, anyway," he mutters. With sensors dark, his attention is fully on guiding the blasted N-1 back toward the Renegade. He stays off the comm until the fighter is landed.

Devii watches the scarlet bolts from the enemy fly past, a few striking some of her own men. She growl, fire in her orange amber eyes. She rallies her squad. "Oy, you poop deck swabbing chum scrubbers. Ya wanted a fight and were complaining about standing around on the ship for MONTHS. So here you go now get your damn butts into it and SHOOT BACK!" She pops up, noticing a cadre of troopers funneling towards the trench. She aims at the first one and burns a large black smoking hole through the center off their armor. The Stormtrooper flies back, some of his comrades attempting to stop him from knocking them down too, the sheer momentum of her scarlet bolt that much of a hazard.

David Ironside continues flying cover for Green Squadron. <<All wings. Who wants to go underwater for that weak spot?>> Dave says with a grin, but no happiness is found on the rest of his face as he distracts a duo of TIEs from the Y-Wing bomber's tail. Of course, they were itching to shoot -something-, because his ship's rocked heavily as his shields disappear once again. The other TIE's blasts dig into his hull, burning through the pristine yellow to leave scorch marks, but not yet hitting any vital systems. <<Green, listen up. I'm taking a lot of hits for you, tell me you're at least breaking something in this thing.>>

"That I chose a flawed freedom is still freedom, Senator," Bryce says, before something seems to strike his mind. The blade of the lightsaber drops low, biting into sand and burning some away with a hiss and sizzle in a flourished flick of Bryce's wrist. "But you're still just fighting your Father, aren't you? You need us to be scary thugs. You need this to be personal: an emotional response. But it isn't," Bryce says, looking around them, "It's just a battle. I don't seek to inspire fear, I seek to prevent my enemy from securing shipyards to produce weapons of battle. I don't care who you are. I don't care about Rey. And, I've already won," he says. His eyes rise to follow Ravelyn's prey. His thoughts, meanwhile, reach out to Rey. He expected her impulsiveness. He expected a retributive strike, so he waited to counter Rey or Leia.

<<Green Lead to Renegade. I'm back in route to you for rearming.>> Kirit declares as she brings the nose of her Y-wing back to the stars. <<Heartbreak, I copy your intel. I'll be directing our assault on the dreadnaught from here out. Let me know if you come up with a plan B.>> As the Y-wing breaks atmosphere, it sends its last two torpedoes out towards the Dreadnaught. Cannonfire catches them in route by pure dumb luck and the near detonation causes only minimal damage to shields.

Stumbling through the sand Grayson eventually falls to one knee, the Trooper trying to escort her to safety leaning in to yell through her helmet, "MA'AM." Shake, shake, Graysons shoulder shook firmly as the trooper crouches beside her, "I can't keep dragging you, ma'am. Do you hear me, y'need to work wit' me, not against!" Her right arm scoops under Graysons left, nudging in to half-carry Grayson on her shoulder, the doctor managing to find her feet in the sand, staggering with the trooper, "That's my girl, Commander, we're gettin' you outta here, goin' to make sure that you make it back, can't be having you layin' lazy on a beach." The trooper murmurs comfortingly to Gray who has no response, ears still ringing, head still fuzzy, though things begin to come back into focus, the transport only yards away. Home time. Soon.

Having come flown through a fireball of his own making, Karas continues to gun the engines on the A-Wing and the fighter doesn't disappoint. Red energy trails alight behind the fighter as it streaks towards the majorly damaged Star Destroyer, <<Heading to the Star Destroyer, going to make a run on it and help take it down.>> Karas sees a pair of TIEs coming in after him to intercept, Karas quickly rolls his fighter to the right but as he does he stitches a few shots up along the side of the ball cockpit of the TIE, but he doesn't slow down at all as he continues toward the Star Destroyer.

Pash spots Ambrosia's wave and hesitates, but only for a moment, because some nearby blaster fire kicks up a fountain of sand and noise. Frik it, he thinks, and makes a run for it. Unfortunately, on the way, he catches blaster fire from a sharp-eyed trooper. White-hot pain courses through his back and shoulder. "GAH!" he yells, the shot sends him sprawling to the ground, then crawling into the trench. Once in, he looks at the fighters left and right of him, then focuses his gaze on the Resistance general. "Well, this doesn't look safe," he comments, reaching around to check on his war wound. Though his hand comes back with blood, he grits his teeth, readies his blaster, and fires over the lip of the trench. The first shots hits the beach, but the second finds a home in the leg of an unlucky trooper, who drops to the ground in agony.

"You're not denying us shipyards, you're destroying a planet." Leia has remained calm, despite everything, she's like the eye of a dark storm raging all around her. Shifting slightly to face each of the trio of Knights, but falling firm upon Ravelyn when she strikes down a Mon Cal soldier and drops them down at her feet in the sand.

The General looks down upon the, to her mind, hero of freedom as he struggles to breath after the telekinetic assault. There in the sand, Leia kneels down and lays her palm down upon the center of the soldier's chest and closes her eyes. "You are not my father." Leia opens her eyes to look at Bryce, "He was frightening. You're just moody children wearing black armor. My father would be disappointed in you too.."

The Mon cal pops his eyes open and looks up at Leia, who is now helping him stand, ushering him behind her with a hand to his shoulders. "You've turned an entire planet into more Resistance with one deranged attempt at winning a battle?" She sucks her teeth again, "Completely disregarding the war to win a single fight... You sound more like the Old Sith Empire trying to destroy Cathar. It didn't go the way they thought it would either."

Sick driiiiiiiiifts! Yan threw the X-Wing into a tight turn, whipping and churning up the sickly looking water underneath him, before putting nose to sky and firing up into the skies. Once again, his engine flare hit the water and it blew up into the air as though a bomb had gone off, but that was nothing compared to the rain of turbolaser fire that was turning the ocean behind him into a veritable caldera. Weaving his fighter Through The Fire And The Flames, he was probably showing off by now.

Yan hit the nearby dogfight at top speed, spying a TIE that had not accounted for the sudden arrival of the Heartbreak One and stitched it full of laser fire. "Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah?" he sang to himself as he watched the thing fly away trailing smoke. "Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah!"

"AGH" Just nanoseconds after inviting Pash into the RES-reinforced trench, Ambrosia's arm comes back down a bit more violently via assist of that wounded Sgt's returned fire. It's fair, she deserved it, but man, does this smoldering mess look worse than it did when she got the original upgrades after a grenade mishap that lifetime ago! Her beloved lock-picking, throat-shanking index finger is GONE. Also the next precious digit, which is presently flapping a rude gesture to her new guest as it dangles upsidedown, caught within confines of glove. Said sleekly fitting shock glove is sizzling as much as that big hole in her palm, and she scowls through it darkly at Pash.

"Thirty-one, kriffin' years..." she hisses, like that oughta mean something to the younger man, then tugs a pack off her belt and rifles through it while slouching down behind current cover. She pulls out a stretchy band - a tourniquet - and does a quicky loopyloop around her wrist, then tugs it tightly with her teeth. Circulation slowed and if it costs her more than it's meant to gain, well...that's life.

"Welcome to the party," she grumps while fishing something else out of the pack and crunching it between teeth, plenty content to let this new kid lay down some blasterfire on their behalf. "You want one?" She shakes out another pill, drops it in the sand, blows it kinda clean, then sets it down somewhere on his bent leg where it might stay before stuffing her pack away again, left arm hugged up protectively against her belly while she reorients.

Rey's eyes meet those of Asiir's, she feels a pull from the man as he projects something to her and her eyelids flutter while the thoughts and images that he sends to her flood her mind. They distract her, but only for a brief moment before she's flickering her eyelids open again and scowling at him. Whatever he'd just shown her, didn't settle well inside her heart and it just steels her resolve in further.

She's then looking down toward Leia to see her reviving the fallen Mon Calamari soldier. She looks up to Ravelyn, then to Bryce. "Where is he?" She asks him specifically after Leia's words. "Where is your spineless Master?" She puts her eyes on all three of them.

"Has he told you the truth?" She asks them then. "Has he told you that HE is the one who killed your Supreme Leader Snoke?" She squeezes the active hilt of her saber. "Snoke had me on the edge of death... And Kylo couldn't handle it. So he struck your Supreme Leader down. To save me, and to take his place."

She softly sways side to side where she stands. "I have no doubt you won't believe me. But when you see his scarred face again. I want you to ask yourselves... if he's lying to you, to save his own skin."

Sesti watches her husband go, and she seems about ready to go to the trench when a young Mon Cal is casually lifted up and tossed with a crunch. She growls, and takes a few steps to follow, maybe almost catch up with Jax. Then Leia leans down, placing her palm on the injured man's chest, and he lurches upwards. She stops stock still, then, as the fallen one is ushered behind Leia and begins to stumble away, she moves forward again to offer treatment and escort away. A stormtrooper has the bad idea to try and finish the job started by the Rennish Knight, and her vibroblade sweeps out, laying him down to the sand before she reaches the Mon Calamari youth, and she sheaths her blade to pull her med kit around, one arm going around the stumbling man to keep him going towards the safe trench.

There is an angry lightsaber hiss as Jax's saber shifts to point at Ravelyn and rady to strike if the shadow figure lashes out again. He lets out a breath as Leia saves the Moncal. The Corellian says to the black shawow, "There is no death but the Force. I will trust in it if you try that again." He then says, "Freedom, flawed or not. YOu claim you want freedom but I don't understand how these innocent civillians have opressed you. This is a falacy and you know it, the princess is right."

It's hard to know if there's any remorse felt when the face is hidden behind a mask, but Ravelyn doesn't appear to have any regrets at injuring the Mon Cal, nor is there much reaction to Leia as she heals him. The helmet turns again to regard Rey, and Jax for a reaction, and it's the latter that becomes Ravelyn's focus. Gloved hands spread in what seems an inviting gesture and the man and his lightsaber, inviting him to approach, to attack, though the dark clad figure doesn't seem intent on making the first move. At least not yet.

The device in the water has turned the ocean around it in a large, warbly ring a deathly shade of green, sinking the toxin deep and wide into the waves. The First Order's scientists have outdone themselves; it will proliferate and spread, turning the oceans of Mon Calamari into a cesspool of dangerously acidic liquid that scorches and burns all but the toughest organic life. Another siren goes up from the chunk of metal, the custom-made superweapon specifically designed to genocide this aquatic planet, announcing that its work is done.

Up in the sky, TIEs begin to swirl upward, intent on returning to orbit to fight off the Resistance ships that are continuing to beat on that Resurgent class destroyer, tailing and even being tailed still by a few vengeful Mon Calamari fighters.

The confrontation on the beach may continue, but the Stormtroopers seem to be organizing for a tactical withdrawal, shields being set up to protect the E-Web emplacements and single, heavily-armored men left to man them while the others fall back under covering fire from the repeaters.

"Perhaps," Bryce says, offering indifference to her words. No emotional response. No tantrum. Nothing. "And while you could have been saving the people beneath the waters, you chose a lecture. You'll feel it soon, as the life around us dies," Bryce considers a moment, as if reaching out to feel something. "The catalyst is irreversable, now. The waters are poison," Bryce offers. Though Bryce didn't have much of a response to Rey, he could sense something about the words. There were still a few Jedi tricks he had left, and seeing through deception was one of them.

It stoked the embers of that dark, hoarse whisper from the shadows of Bryce's very core: Ben will betray you. It had been there since the Temple, since they stepped off the path of Wisdom. Rey had only given it a new voice. The faceless, voidlike entity would be replaced with Rey's affected accent--A constant reminder that service was not the same as trust.

"We're done here," Bryce says, before he turns to eye Jax a moment. Then he's walking away. Having said nothing to Jax.