Log:Last Light of Killesa II

Friendly forces storm the port village and surrounding beach of Last Light to disable AA guns.

OOC Date: November 6, 2015 (Optional)
Location: Last Light, Delaya
Participants: Ulani Kalgaav, Corto, Sorin Endesea, Kohnner, Aubrei, Bors Thul, Ban Iskender, Yuun, Rune, Nora Frayus, Aryn Cortess, Lars Syrush NPC, Kiko Alde NPC

The Vigilance, a ship Captained by the young Lord Ty Killesa has made it through the pirate fleet on stormy seas, achieving a feat few sailors could claim in a lifetime. Arguably, it was the most difficult part of the mission, or so the crew thought, but when the stormy haze parted and the tall, flaming tower of Last Light loomed before them (the ancestral fortress of House Killesa), it felt as if the true mission was only getting started.

Lord Ty throws the helm-wheel of the ship to direct it into faster waters, making the vessel rock violently toward a path that was intended to bring them to port. Forces occupying the fortress had already sallied out from the walls to post a hasty defense on the piers and along the fishing village that constituted the outer perimeter of the fortress island. Additionally, Anti-Air turrets were brought online to prevent an aerial assault, or reinforcements to any ground unit ambitious enough to try to land and take back the island.

Naturally, the mission of the Vigilance, and her crew, was to take out those AA cannons and defeat the forces around the port, then breach the walls to reach the fortress proper. Inside the fortress of Last Light, the Killesa family is presumably held in captivity within their own dungeons, a wrong that the youngest scion of House Killesa intended to right.

"BRACE AND MAKE READY FOR LAND!" Lord Ty cries out to the crew, whose blades were freshly blooded and warm from the heated combat during the fleet action. Ty had no intention of using indirect cannon fire to assault the port or surrounding village, too many innocent lives could be lost during the engagement. This was to be personal, and every inch of this island would require its payment in blood to claim back.

The ship experience is entirely new for Aubrei and the seas throwing them around give Aubrei reason to hold on and keep her stomach held at bay. The brine in the air is filtered but there is a tang when she breathes.

She reaches out to grasp for support and keep hereslf at ready when they are brought about

Having just finished getting quickly patched up from one of the many field medics amongst the crew, Ulani gives a grateful nod and a sinscere, "Thank you kindly." Now she does, indeed, brace and make ready for land as the dock is fast approaching with the fishing village just beyond.

But she's not looking for long. Instead, she has out her datapad and is quickly typing in a sequence into her locked screen, waking it up and pulling up a rough map of the area. "Lord Ty, if I can get to the cannons, I can rig up some explosives and detonate on command." She's already got a good load-out of booms in a bag hanging from her shoulder. "I will need cover, though. Afraid I can't rely on my marksmanship to carry me there. Especially if running."

Landfall.

Not a term common amongst those that walk the land by nature. The sea was something to see, but never really to journey. And in this age of science fantasy and spaceships and cheap intergalactic travel, actually crossing it was something of an unnecessary diversion.

But revenge is first and foremost an act of style. Forever will the history books remember a dramatic rescue amongst wooden ships and iron men over the practical and yet simple approach of dropships and soldiers. When there was a message to be sent, the best way to send it was with overwhelming dramatic effect.

It was perhaps for this reason that the Drifter, the second-act guest star party member, was upon the prow of the vessel with a dinner-plate hand clamped upon his hat and his poncho whipping in the wind. "Civilians out of harm's way first!" he roar-drawled above the din of waves and crew. "A home is built on its people and we ain't gonna prove 'em wrong today!"

There hadn't been time to do much more than lean on a railing and catch a bit of the fleeting calm that had fallen after the final route of that marine assault. Sorin was tired, the sort of tired armor servos could not keep fully at bay, and the sort of tired a soldier came to knew as a constant companion. It was a weariness that spoke of twisting fortunes and exertion, blood and fear and a heavy dash of hope. As that tower looms, he looks to it. Their prize.

That calm extends, in some ethereal way, to the shores and piers they near. Two sides, preparing once again. Just as the Alderaanian Lordling Knight's gaze slips down to his own armor, and the crystalline blade hanging again at his side, so too are distant eyes slipping from the sight of that rapidly approaching warship down to blasters, and radios, and the grim faces of those to their left and right.

The storm is here.

While they were 'bracing' and 'making ready to land' A certain Klatooinine was arched over the side of this particular landing vessel and heaving all he could ho. You see, despite all the Hutt's put him through, the large bipedal Canine was not a friend of uneasy seas. It took a moment before he pushed off the edge and headed back into position, wiping his mouth with a sleeve. A grunt given in acknowledgment and a nod before spitting on the deck plating what ever vile taste was left in his mouth. At this point he didn't care if he got shot to death, as long as it was on land.

Odd for someone who was usually a Cargo Trader... then again there wasn't as much 'motion in the ocean' in the blackness of space.

Quietly he put his right hand on the hilt of the blade that rested at his left hip, preparing to cross draw when the need arises. The hired combatant, a Trader only known by one name and over very few words, carried only close combat bladed weapons in him, including a Vibro Ax across his back. His jaw set stern and he readied himself for whatever came next.

He groaned as his stomach growled and churned once more.

The ship experience is entirely new for Aubrei and the seas throwing them around give Aubrei reason to hold on and keep her stomach held at bay. The brine in the air is filtered but there is a tang when she breathes.

She reaches out to grasp for support and keep hereslf at ready when they are brought about. She reaches to her side and draws the S-5 at her side. She glances to the others, the visor flecked with water obscuring the expression upon her face which might relay the actual distress in riding on a ship.

<"My lord, I am ready for this. House Endesea," the Dame proclaims to Sorin, shifting over to join him, doing her best to hold back the bile that has begun to creep up the back of her throat.

<"A poor gungan came ridin' by, an' we say so, an we know so, Oh a poor gungan came riding by, Oh poor gungan!"> singing still while he makes to one of the masts to brace on for the ships stop - especially if Ty is intent on scraping the keel to make land. Opting for the blade on his hip.

<"Says I, gungan yo'r Eopie will die! And we says so! And we know so! An if he dies, we'll tan 'is hide!"> giving the sword a single swipe before his boot mags engage to hold him in place. <"Oh poor gungan! An if he don' I'll ride 'em again! And we says so! And we know so!"> just belting it out as if he were on a dockside some where, and not just recently cleared of a naval engagement with explosions and cannon fire.

Ban Iskender had kept a firm hold with his right hand as the youngest Killsea brought their large vessel into an abrupt mooring with urgency. His left held the still-lit green blade. As the waterlogged dragoon- half-cape hanging lank at one shoulder for fog and sea spray of their voyage so far- sees mercenary defenders hurrying to cover the guns and waterfront, Ban voices evenly, "Whilst the less combat capable crew secure the vessel, let us carry the docks and provide the demolitions escort unto their marks. Shall we?" With the rhetorical question offered, he disembarks by vaulting over the rails and onto the surface of the docks, emerald sword swept up in a swift, sharp salute to the oncoming foe.

The loud clanks of an anchor begin to set way as commands along the vessel, echoed from its Captain, bid the crew make ready for landfall. Marines high up in the ropes and along the sides of the ship are already hard at work, displaying fine marksmanship despite the unsteady waters and picking off gunners who would otherwise lay waste to the disembarking crew. "Follow the Knights to the cannonades!" Ty replies to Ulani, his voice briefly droned out by a harsh splash to the side of the ship. "They will see you through! I will join once the pier is ours.. the ship and her safety belongs to me."

"BRRAAAACCCE!" Yelled the first mate as the ship suddenly lurched forward, her anchor snagged along the bottom. Throwing the wheel one way, Ty brought the bow of the ship forward, providing cover from incoming fire, and allowing his marksman to lay a path ahead. Spilling forth like Myrmidons, many of the crew landed behind the Green Knight of Alderaan (Lord Ban) to follow him into combat. Blaster bolts rained in from every angle as smoke grenades were cast out to give the disembarking crew some concealment in their approach. Aside from the stark green presence of a lightsaber, the forms of those who were 'friendly' disappeared in the fog of war as bright flashes of red and blue crisscrossed.

Those leaving the ship were faced with combat near immediately, pirate scum occupying Last Light and its island were not willing to give the land, and their power, up!

They wield swords, vibroblade, blasters, or bare hands to repel the assault, and just beyond the end of the pier, where land met dock, one (of three) AA cannons loom high above the fighting, scanning the air for drop ships and fighters that could bolster the assault with reinforcements.

"Aye, aye, my Lord," comes the small red-heaed's reply to Ty's commands. Follow the Knights. That's a no-brainer by now and it helps that Ban carries the biggest green glowstick. Makes him easy to pick out from a crowd. "Lord Ban! To your mark!" She might be getting used to this kinda stuff. Maybe.

She does look quickly around her; to the left and the right trying to spot the second-easiest glowing object to discern in this madness. The Katarn armour and the man inside of it. "Lord Bors! I request your aegis once more!" Maybe she doesn't need to ask, but tis only polite to do so.

Everyone is on the move now and Ulani is following up; rifle in both hands and her bag weighing heavy on her shoulder as she goes. She doesn't rush to the frontlines, no. That's not where she belongs for a lot of reasons. Instead, she stays a bit back from Ban but close enough to keep up to him. From the left comes a blur of a pirate defending the dock and Ulani twists and fires out of instinct. She doesn't stop to check if he's down for good or just stunned. She doesn't want to know.

Corto's time pontificating was up. With the ship docked, he turned and headed towards the gangplank. Now in this scenario he wasn't about to make do with just his giant meatfists. Handy they would be, but sometimes you had to reach out and touch someone.

There was a curious weapon in the Drifter's holster. In his hands, it was the size of a large pistol, but to a normal sized human it definitely needed two hands to wield. The modified Scattergun was yeeted out of its sheath, and with a flick forward of his hand it fell backward. Now, most scatterguns have an impractical side-mounted pump, which Corto never understood as it buggered up his aim. This one was lever action, and letting it fall backward caused the weapon to fling around his cigarra-sized fingers in that large loop and snap back into his hand, having cocked a round.

Everything could be an act of style if you believed in yourself.

It sounded more like an explosion when fired, as it was once Corto strode purposefully towards the fray. A twelve-bore slug was a big chunk of metal that gave one poor repositioning pirate a lead suppository. Who says you need lightsabers?

Sorin's dark brown gaze, though hidden behind the opaque silver of his helmet's visor, shifts to Aubrei as she joins him. Her readiness matches his own, and her words draw a nod out of the man. A hand rises to rest at the Mandalorian Dame's armored pauldron. <"For Alderaan, and Endesea,"> he answers, voice lightly vocoded but still unmistakeably Sorin. Grim of tone. Tired. Yet ready to continue.

Those final moments before that anchor catches and the warship's prow makes contact are moments of adrenalized recharge. That curved cerulean blade of Endesea, crystalline and shining under the sun, is redrawn. Orders are bellowed, and Sorin looks to Aubrei once more. <"Fight well, my Lady.">

Exertion. Sorin finds himself amid the first wave charging Last Light's defenders. A lightly armored marine rises to meet his charge, vibro-ax humming with deadly energy. A slash is parried, but the next meets plasteel and cuts through a weak joint. With a shocked exclamation the man crumples, falling to the ground, no longer a threat as he begins to bleed himself into the sands.

The fight is joined.

Kohnner glanced towards the flash of Green Light as Lord Ban let loose his indignant blade emerald green. The Klatooinine flinched a bit, almost stepping back back but that might have just been the large bipedal Canine loosing a bit of footing as the anchor dropped and started to slow. He was slightly stunned, as if caught up in a moment of deja vu. A flash of that blade he'd seen before somewhere or at least a flash someone who had influenced him had seen before. He shook his head of these thoughts and refocused himself. The ramp drops and the smoke is dropped. The Canine shot forth, not yet drawing his blade as the gray fog surrounded him. Canine legs clawing against the deck plating and then finally into water and shore. It wasn't long until the taller beast came upon one of the enemy. He was indiscriminate as he draw and slashed upwards bifurcating some young dumb fool into death.

Reangling his blade he paused and sniffed, searching out another enemy. Turning, he rank and slashed at another Poiret, yet this one was faster and more agile than the last and perhaps the smoke was starting o thin, giving an advantage to the enemy. This did not bother the Klatooinine.. In fact, he might have smiled if he could. To the cheers of for Alderaan... he hadn't any responce. He was focused on his job... and that was killing soft fleshy people.

The ship is suddenly pitching and Aubrei's eyes go wide, the shock on her face just a mask of armor to everyone else as she slides across the deck, trying to get her footing. There is no time to respond to the Lord of Endesea as she uses that forward momentum and her lack of traction to throw herself into the air. The rocket burns hard and takes over, the brief dip of her form the only indication that she did not have complete control.

The Dame of Endesea angles herself and before she lands is taking aim at the foes below, the green bolts slam wide, nearly hitting one but finding no target that she can claim. She lands then, skidding across the ground as she comes about, the pistol lifted as she watches the others cut into the group.

Casting himself to solid ground with the others, Bors hits with the heavy CLUD of plastoid plates and heavy boots that blend into the hail footfalls, blade raised in high guard. Vibroblade matching to his forcing a juke to one side and a raise of his offhand to let it skitter along the plates hardened against such assault. To parry with his blade would be to invite its destruction.

<"Of course, m'lady!"> A broad swipe disarming one at the elbow and providing him the opening needed to duck and charge past the falling rodian, exposing their partner to a downward thrust into the thigh of a shistavenian followed up with an elbow strike to put them on the ground.

<"A THUL! A THUL among thee!"> skidding to a stop next to Ula and giving her the mobile cover she has requested of him.

Ban Iskender is hardly attired as one might expect a Jedi to be. Dressed in heavy dragoon's armor beneath his decorative half cape, it is only the lightsaber that sets the swordsman apart from any other reckless officer as he leads a drive for the first artillery emplacement. Emerald blade turns aside a long range shot as the blasts of several allies fly past him to strike down several of the horde ahead. Soon enough his dash has brought the duelist to close quarters, striking down a first foe, then a second. The third enemy to pass within his reach is wise enough not to attempt a party, instead leaping backward out of Ban's reach. The nobleman does not pursue him, instead choosing to continue their drive for the guns. Apart from his salute, the gentleman shouted no invocations, challenges, or mottos, focused wholly on moving and striking with professional haste.

Yuun met with the group he was going to be fighting with, it was good to be here to help Aryn, one of his longest knowing friends. His clothing slightly baggy but it is Jedi'esque. The dark skinned Jedi held his lightsaber lightly in his hand, and he moves with the group going against the pirates. Out of his first set of attacks he was only able to take down two pirates, which he does quickly not wanting to cause any lasting pain to his enemies. He glances around to see where the most resistance.

Emerging from below decks is the young Ysannan Padawan, his face a pale shade of green. He had dashed there after the previous combat in an attempt to steady his stomach... probably the worst idea he could have had, no sight of the ocean simply made the movement of the waves much worse. Thus Rune appears, clutching the railing and holding in what remains of his dignity and lunch, both of which were mostly gone by this point. The ship is not done with him yet though, one final lurch before the crew departed heaving his stomach up into his ribs, and the Jedi made haste to the railing.

Rune activates his saber as he all but falls from the side of the boat, the novice Force user landing in the water with a heavy splash. He struggles to his feet just in time to meet the charge of a poiret scum. Unfortunately for the foe, he met a quick end when Rune counters the attack with his own blade, the lightsaber easily slicing through the sword brought to bear, as well as the wielder themselves.

As both pieces of the attacker fall to the wayside a second aggressor appears, this one slashing about in the concealing smoke with a vibroblade, the electricity sparking noticeably in the night. The blades clash together in a hail of sparks, Rune's first blow deflected harmlessly to the side. It was the backswing that found the pirate unprepared, the adversary's flashing blade going dark before it dropped into the ocean that swells around them.

"Thank the Force for land." Rune breathes as he slogs his way toward the shore, his verdant blade gleaming in the hazy air.

The force that rushed out to meet the Killesa supporters had not anticipated such a concerted and deadly force. In the chaos of the smoke and crossfire of blasters, countless pirates met their match and were cast back in a surprising interaction of combat. As the Killesa group emerged from the smoke, they were met with more combatants, but many of those who had stationed themselves to hold the line and repel the assault on the pier were falling back, fearful of the tenacity of those charging. Those with the gumption to stand their ground, open fire, or charge recklessly, hoping to end the assault with heroic slashes of their sword.

Ser Lars Syrush, the First Sword, is among the main body of assaulters as they land on the docks, wading into the hazy smoke and unknown. "KEEP PUSHING FORWARD," The Knight screams. "DO NOT STOP UNTIL WE HAVE MADE IT TO THE CANNON! PUT THESE PIRATES TO THE SWORD!" As if on cue, the Knight crosses blades with one, batting their weapon down and splitting their neck with a decisive slash. His follow on attack is blocked yet it does little to deter the seasoned warrior as he plunges forward with an offhand strike, sinking his dirk into his opponent's eye and shocking them with the sudden death. He abandons the dirk to carry on with his sword, pausing long enough to observe their forces moving.

The Vigilance has settled in the background, and Marines hold the ship, picking off distant targets with crack marksmanship. Blaster bolts pass the Killesa charging force overhead, occasionally picking off opponents before they can reach their intended combatant. Lord Ty observes from the command deck of his ship, hands locked at the small of his back as the remaining crew draw back the anchor and cast ropes to the dock to moor them to the cleats.

Only a small platoon remain between the charging Killesas and the first cannon, fifteen (15) in total while the bulk of the enemy forces fell back to a position on land.

Ulani barely has a chance to realize Bors is next to her when suddenly he is in front of her and redirectly a hit that would have certainly hit her. And worse... could have hit the bag she's hoisting. Then they'd all be in the shite. Exhaling a nervous breath, Ulani gets eyes on their first target beyond the gaggle of pirates. "I'm going in," is heard from her small, Kuati-accented voice and in a flash, she is gone.

Ducking low to minimize her visibility, Ulani focuses on running through, around, past the front lines of pirates that would love nothing more than to cut one of these Cortess-supporting invaders down. A shift of her weight and she dips past a flailing grapping of a large woman who nearly snatches her, but Ulani makes it past them and scurries up the base of the cannon.

<<"I'm at the first one. Just need to find.... ah ha!">> There it is. The pivot point; a shaft connecting the cannon itself to the base. Break that and one breaks the gun. Hopefully. A dart of her eyes over her shoulder -- a quick check that she's not about to be pounced -- and Ulani is making her way over to it.

Killin' was a no-good thing. A no-good low-down dirty thing that Corto took no pleasure in. Even the mercy kill earlier this week was still weighing on his mind, and being thrust back into combat so soon had thrown him off his serene game. He wasn't paying attention, and that's why he took a blaster round to the arm.

A distinctly un-Corto but very Feeorin roar of pain emerged from the big blue bloke. His shotgun was already pointed towards one pirate, but his arm whipping back from the impact threw off his balance. The boomstick sent its boom wide, into a nearby unfortunately-placed pile of dirt.

The brightly whirling blades to left and right give the fog an eerie quality, but it's the sounds of the dying that mark this place as the sacrificial ground it truly is. Stalking through those murky tendrils, Sorin advances, avatar of some Corellian powersuit deity - apologies to the Mother and the Father who look down upon all Alderaanians.

Stalking forth, the Lordling Knight finds himself atop a sunken trenchline, at the head of which a light repeating blaster may be seen. An operator and his assistant look up, both fumbling for the weapons hanging at their sides. Sorin drops within, practically atop the nearest, who is body-checked into the trench's earthen wall. There's a thrust of cerulean blade, ending the man, and a turn to the emplacement's gunner. "No no no," he shouts, pistol half out of a holster that had taken a moment too long to unfasten. Sorin's blade halts those protestations, with a clean hack from above. The knight pauses, considering whether he should destroy the weapon as well.

Suddenly a bolt lances in from Sorin's right, an unseen sharpshooter had had enough time to steady his sight upon the temporarily still man and taken the shot. There's a brightly sparked impact of focused charged particles against durasteel that leaves a divot, and a clearly - though by first impression not greviously - wounded knight.

The SCUM Kohnner had been swinging at and bearing down, ends up on the ground crawling backwards away from him in a frantic sort of scurry. An ugly Monstrous alien like a Klatooinine wasn't likely expected with this party. That fight or flight instinct gave Kohnner's prey the uncanny ability to draw quicker, meaning the pulled out a blaster at a sword fight and took a shot at the hulking bipedal Canine.

Kohnner howled loudly like a some wild Vornskr in the deep woods of Myrkr. He reeled back and clasped the upper part of his left arm where a burnt hole now fused with the bits of armor the bolt had blasted through. Anger now glowed in the pale blue eyes of the young killer. He growled, showing sharp teeth. He rushed then towards the collection of defending bodies around the canon, his blade lashing out at those near him. The reeled back, not wanting to get struck by the maddened Canine. He roared as he swung, letting those primal sort of instincts flow through him. He missed his targets but perhaps he could as least distract from those who were placing explosives.

As they are attacked in return, Aubrei watches as a few of her fellows are injured, the thought of attacking stowed as she rushes over towards the nearest she can get to as Kohnner and Sorin engage with othres in melee. Her words are quickened by the draw of her breath as she slides in beside the Feeorin. <"Hold still, going to field dress as best I can, keep them off of us."> The feminine voice hails the unknown figure - though obviously friendly given who he is shooting at.

She pulls out the spray first, cleaning the area as effectively as she can - a sting likely causing some irritation for Corto.

The patch she pulls free next is firmly slapped over the wound, pressed and sealed in that moment to help support the process of knitting the flesh back together and keeping it from getting infected. <"Best I can do given the circumstances."> The weihg tof her motions bring her around, pistol drawn from the ground as she rises, discarding the remnants of the patch to the wind and the rush of boots.

Curling his left arm up to bring the side of his fist against where his ear would be a blaster bolt thuds into armor, making plastoid momentarily soften while thermo-kinetic weave dissipates the force of the plasma bolt. A moment spared to check surroundings and wheel to interpose his blade to catch that of one of the pirate filth, <"HA! Knaves! Match met!"> thoroughly enjoying himself, for certain, until...

When Ula takes off, Bors can only give a bit of a chuckle that is also a bit of a sigh, chinning his externals off before, "Of course nary a moment spent in consideration to set thee forth in wild sprint after I had but only come through morass of foul face and forest of blade and fire to get to thy side..."

Leaning into the run, Bors sprints - keeping to Ulani's side like Corto sticks to the big and tall section of the clothiers he visits. Because he's titanic. A swing meant to remove the hand of a savage intent on stopping the kuati woman parried and gaining an exasperated, <"Ex-CUSE me!?"> from the Lord who pivots then stutters into a pirouette that puts him off balance but with enough force that the figures head remains in place, though her eyes flicker wide a split second before she drops, body tumbling forward and behind Bors while her head rolls after.

<"Ula, darling! Forewarning next time?!"> another charging figure catches four feet of hand wrought durasteel between the ribs and thrusting out of their back, dragging over sternum and into open air while they're poleaxed backwards, <"I've been made to look silly! I prefer to look foppish, not foolish!">

Ban Iskender continues the momentum of the attackers' swift advance, narrowly catching a blade that had struck low for his leg, cutting the durasteel in two, leaving both ends glowing for a molten moment, before quickly cooling to red and black. Armored boots bear him on toward the squad of scoundrels standing sentry at the anti aircraft. Once again, his sword is swept up vertically before him in salute, rising in respect before descending in destruction.

Yuun quickly dispatches two of his opponents, a small frown shows on his face, he didn't like killing but again his opponents are one with the force. Yuun reflects a shot that was aimed at him, he angles his blade down sending the blaster bolt into the ground. He sees another group of pirates nearing him. Dipping his right shoulder and moving past one of the pirates to strike his friend, he quickly attempts a back stab towards the pirate that got past him, Yuun misses. Spinning to his right, he sees a pirate aiming a shot at one of his allies and down goes the pirate as Yuun slashes across his waist.

The grunts and shouts of his wounded squad register over the din of battle and Rune finds his direction changing to match. The messy haired and soppy Jedi finds himself in the presence of Corto and Kohnner, the latter being nearly immediately guarded by the other green blade wielding Jedi. With a smile, Rune nods to Lord Ban and sets to guard the injured Corto, lest another blaster bolt find its way toward them. What a sight that is, the smaller Force user standing in defense of the hulking blue man, his face set in grim determination regardless of the hilarity of the picture.

In the meantime another dastardly duo rushes the lightsaber wielding Ossus native and he is forced to once again defend himself with an offensive action. The first pirate's screamed charge gurgles out as his body falls limp to the sand. Prior to the tumble, his back sprouted a glowing green column of light, the other end of which was clutched by Rune's hand. The second fellow was far luckier since the Padawan suddenly found himself with a manner of dead weight pressing down on his weapon. Up comes the humming blade to meet an attack, the wild swing after simply driving the pirate back a hair to where the adversaries can square off with narrowed eyes.

Of the fifteen foes who stood their ground, all but three fell. This allowed Ulani Kalgaav to attain a favorable position near one of their objectives to begin assessing the build of the turret and how best to destroy it. Meanwhile, members of the crew who had ventured forth do not halt their momentum and carry on toward the next cannon.

To reach that, they come off the port docks and onto land proper, following a small hill down toward the village but staying closer to the beach than the village itself. There, on the beach, another tall turret is defended by an entrenched foe, firing long range shots at the charging Killesa forces, and those occupying the first cannon objective. The distance make the shots a bit wild and inaccurate; given it's a target rich environment for the defending pirates, it's hard to choose distant targets vs those charging.

Ser Lars cuts down three men, the last knocked from the pier and into the war. He's out of breath, shoulders rising and falling heavily now and stalking forward to join the main assault. "LET'S GO!" He calls out, and returns to jogging after the others, eager to see the next gun cleared out.

<<"Killesa forces, this is Commander Alde. Her Highness inquires about the anti-air defenses and how close you are to destroying them? We have reinforcements ready to cross the bay, over.">>

Up on the cannon's base now, Ulani looks back towards Bors with a curious tilt of her head. "Mmm? Oh! Indeed, forgiveness, my love. I felt the need to hurry here with haste. But you are right. I need to stay close to you. Certainly not an unattractive prospect, I must admit."

Ulani is working as quickly as she can getting the explosive device attached to the weak spot she has settled upon. It isn't easy, though, to concentrate on the connections and setting the detonation device with the sound of battle behind her. But Bors playfully scolding her -- though he might be half-actually scolding her, too -- does strangely help her focus as she works.

"Besides, you do not look silly at all, Bors." In that particular way her accent says his name, 'Beau-oars' "You look quite dashing." And to his benefit, Ulani does not run off again just as she promised. But she's also not making the progress she would like. There are small grunts of frustration now as blaster fire wizz past her a few feet away on either side. Not enough to be a danger, but enough to make her hands shake.

<<"Working on it! Some of the charges got wet in the storm on the way here! I need a little more time!">>

With one free hand, the Drifter made a flicking motion on his shotgun, cocking the lever at the same time he rotated it around his fingers. The hiss of main from blaster searing was replaced by a different hiss of paint from some sort of disinfectant. Then the patch was slapped on.

"Mighty kind of you, Doctor," was the half-gritted rumbledrawl from the recovering Falleen. "Behind!" he barked, too late to stop the poiret from shooting, but with just enough time for reflexitive return fire of his own. The boom from the shotgun was yet another boom lost in the concerto of booms that was warfare, but the slug made its mark ripping through the nasty man's torso. Another life lost, another quiet curse. Climbing back ouf of that, really, pretty well dug-in weapons emplacement, Sorin sees some of their party advancing towards that second anti-aircraft turret. But here, between himself and the nearest turret? Two defenders, one armed with a vibro-pike, the other a meaty looking pistol.

The Alderaanian knight advances upon the pair, one hitting the ground following a servo-assisted hack that cleaves straight through a tightly strapped blast vest. Just as that crystalline blade is drawn back, an opposing vibro-pike unready to parry, a heavy impact strikes Sorin in the flank. A blaster bolt, accurately flung in from afar, punches a small hole through durasteel. It's enough to abort that second strike, and the Lord of Endesea is even forced to drive a knee into the ground to keep from falling any further.

As the enemies drop to the Force Users and High Skilled military type, Kohnner focused in on one of the last remaining defendants of the first canon. His lower teeth jutted out in an underbite as he growled and chopped at the enemy. His blade cut deep. He swung again, missing twice as his blade scrapped against defelade and scrap metal used as cover. The enemy was crawling away as he stalked forwards, never once giving up on his goal to kill.

Though that was likely until Ban and Aubrei showed up as he crept forward. A look to Lord Ban as he saved him from another blast to his body, blue eyes narrowing in what could only be desciped a hard concentration. "He knew you..." He says in a rather rough and deep voice expected of a Canine of his size and species.

He took a moment and looked over towards the next cannon and sighed, "Another one, huh?" What a day.

Even as she is readying to rejoin the fray, her attention on the Feeorin when he address her, <"Doing what I...HUNGH.."> its a strange sound from the armored female as a bolt slams into her backside and she is left stumbling from the resulting pain and surprise. She gasps still, panting at the seering pain from her back end. There is NO WAY she is reaching the wound while in her armor, turning her body to try to get a look gives her a view of the battlefield a few of the others she had noted took wounds before. Sorin seems to be functioning fine as Kohnner thus becomes her focus.

<"Watch yourself,"> she nearly pants out at Corto as she lifts off, the thrust of the rocket at her back carrying her the distance needed, landing in a run that favors her left side. She rumbles behind her helmet, sweating now through the pain as she does as she did for her first patient. Spray to clean the area nd then a field bacta patch is pressed down over the wound. <"A moment, do not move..."> she instructs as she sets to placing. <"Just a field dressing, get it seen to."> She expresses in a strained tone.

<"Rubberized carry all, darling!"> The demolition expert with wet charges. There's a wish to remove her helmet and give the stare that only he can, through his monocle, close lipped. But then anything can happen - like that sot who has wandered to close and found the Lord Thul on a razor edge, thrusting and silencing them once and for all. Behind the faceplate and the glowing T visor styled after the Mandalorian instructors of the GAR's commando corps, the man frowns - regretful for finishing off the wounded foe.

But too often had the wish for mercy come at allied expense.

<"You're clear for now, Ula dear. Alert when thou shalt be on the move again."> left hand lifting instinctively to toggle comms that a bite tab switches on the same instinct,

<<"Lord Killsea, we are progressing. We can laze targets for strike if thou so feel it be safe to do?">>

Ban Iskender adds over the comms with a sharp glance about. A well placed shot strikes him, causing the gentleman to stagger a moment with the force of the blast. Straightening his shoulders, and literally brushing off the carbon scored spot on his spaulder. <<Commander Alde: we have secured the first artillery position. Moving to secure the second now.>> That said, the gentleman takes off at a run for the second anti aircraft emplacement. Once, twice, and thrice he strikes down one of the usurper's catspaws, fully prepared to charge alone, though with a tight, short lived smile he notes the others who moved with him.

Yuun moves with Ban, "I will keep you company as we move up." he says as he doesn't lose stride as he moves up towards the enemy combatants. <<May the Force be with us.>> he says and he flanks right his blue blade flashing as he attacks. Moving true, Yuun cleaves through one of the pirates weapon, then into him. He has to hop back as he was about mis-step but he was able to regain his balance and cleave through another pirate. But as he tries to go for another pirate who was rushing him, he misses. "Kriff!"

The pirate Rune faced off with was determined to score a hit, only his deft dodging saved him from the sword that pierced the air where he had stood. His adversary was not so lucky this time around as a well timed attack from the side caught them off-guard and put them squarely into the wet sand. Rune lifted a hand in thanks to whomever relieved him of his dancing partner... and then a blaster bolt intended for Corto found its way out of the smoke and into Rune's vest.

He slides backward with the impact but comes away unscathed, hazel eyes wide as he pokes at the hole created by the bolt of plasma, the skin beneath uncharred. Impact examined, the Ysannan Jedi lifts his head to locate the direction from which that blaster attack came. Baddies discovered, eyes narrowed, the Padawan sprints across the sand alongside Lord Ban and toward the encampment of ranged foes. Just before he arrives, the determined lightsaber wielder leaps through the air to land among them, said lightsaber flashing and thrumming as it makes quick work of three with rifles. After the quick attack, all three blasters clatter to the ground, the hands that gripped them no longer able to function in an aggressive manner... or any manner for that fact.

Nora Frayus has been here the whole time! Honest! She's right behind Ban, see?! Charging up to the second artillery position and drawing her sword the moment she engages. The pirate scum are a litany of villainy, but they are deft with their blade! Three strikes clang, saber clashing against rapier, each deflection drawing the tip of Nora's blade closer to the vital organs she seeks to skewer. She laughs when she sees the Pirate's cocky smile and pushes off, taking two... three steps to the right and holding her blade, tip down towards the floor.

"Shall we dance, lover?" she murmurs from behind long lashes and a predatory, cat-like smile. She gives her wrist a slow flick in anticipation of their advance.

The charge continues on despite a hangup with the demolitions on cannon one. With Killesa forces pouring into the entrenched position at cannon two, it's a matter of minutes before the forces defending the second cannon begin to abandon their trenches and retreat for the last position, and cannon further down the beach and near the rear of the island. Ten (10) foemen remain at the second cannon in a show of defiance as the crew presses onward, eager to cut down those fleeing for the final and third cannon.

Lord Ty responds to Lord Thul, <<"The targets are too small and to too close range. Even indirect fire would be a gamble, sir. Alas, this must be done on foot should we preserve the confidence of my good village folk. No innocent lives need be lost this day; carry on, my Lord.">>

Commander Kiko Alde responds to Lord Ban, <<"Understood, Captain. Alderaan endures. Commander Alde out.">>

"Yes, dear," Ulani says back to Bors, her voice a little tense with nerves as she stuffs the dud back into her bag and digs around for another. "We'll go shopping just as soon as we're done here, mmm?" That actually does sound quite lovely. A little brunch, some window shopping, maybe catch a holo on the big screen...

That happy place it taken away as a barrage of fire opens up and Ulani hunkers over her work, setting her charge and connecting the detonation to her datapad. A green light blinks rapidly then turns red. "Set!" She jumps off of the base close to Bors and gestures to the second gun. "On your charge to the next!"

"Nora, we're fighting, ain't time for jokes," chided the Drifter. The wound to his arm was nothing now, a mere irritation compared to the internal struggle he was facing. Maybe that's why his next shot missed, the slug flying wide and Corto's attempts to will it in the intended direction falling a-flat.

That first weapons tower is left to whatever explosive fate it has in store, as Sorin recognizes no remaining pirates between himself and that second turret. He runs, servos taking much of the exertion upon themselves but the man within that powered armor is reaching a new level of weariness.

There are no time-outs, however, no calls for rest and as he reaches that loose string of pirate defenders he's engaged. The melee that ensues doesn't allow either to claim victory, rings of crystal and many-times folded durasteel singing out as that blade of endesea parries, and then is parried by the meter length of a well worn combat sword.

<<"Copy Lord Killsea, conventional destruction it is.">> nodding to himself, turning to one side, then the other to make sure of the present location was clear enough. Nothing within close range, quiet for just the moment. <"I may need to utilize the blaster it seems."> checking his HUD readouts on his weapon charge, <"Right!">

Then there is blaster fire coming in their direction and Bors does what Bors do. Putting his plates between the incoming fire, taking shots on the shoulder and reinforced back plates, trusting the armor to do it's job while keeping Ulani out of harm's way.

<"Right. Let's get to the ne-HEEEOOAAA!"> behind the hip, but not quite the plate that actually covers his posterior, in the joint and burning his cheek, <"MmmmMMMMMOOOTHER FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-FORGIVE THEM!"> shot, right in the rumpus.

Kohner is a bit scurried as the Jetpack riding Aubrei lands next to him, wild eyes studying her. There is a moment as he seems to hesitate in the shell shock of battle as to whether she is friendly or not, his attack intensity and natural predatory inclination getting the best of him. Though as she starts to take care of his wounds he seems to calm a bit. There is a nod of thanks and a calming sort of grunt and growl from the bipedal Canine. "It'll have to wait, but thank you." His voice as expected of such a creature, deep and growling.

As soon as the patch is applied, Kohner hypes himself up, jumping a bit in place before running off down he defilade towards the next cannon. Long range blaster fire erupts around him until he reaches the defilade along the other cannon. As he went up the next mound though, he found himself slipping, his arm still sore and having trouble pulling up his body weight. Once he got on top though, a couple of the enemy stared at him. He stared back, then swung at the once, causing them to reel but not catching a single one with the weapon's sharp edge. Of course this sets up the others for any kills, scarry ugle canine and everything.

Eyes glance towards the pink haired one from Tatooine, blue eyes narrowing a bit in confusion at her tactics.

Backside still stings 'check'. There is a figure suddenly before her, the other woman getting a look from a visor. A nod is given to Nora before coming about after the exchange of fire. A shift of the forces towards the second gun she has space to clear, hitting the rocket once more that blossoms to life and spews her across the field and above those running in but she does not need to get right up on them, the S-5 brandished in mid air, her first shot taking one down, even as the next two green bolts fan out and find the earth and the side of the gun without much harm being done.

Step, lean step, step, leanstep, in quick sucession as she can not quite put full weight on her left leg. She hurries forward, trying to help open the gap in the field for their specialist.

Ban Iskender is kept at the second artillery emplacement, walking down foes who are doing their level best to stay out of his reach. Still, attacks are turned aside methodically, and the dragoon ripostes with deadly alacrity three more times. A short glance aside to gauge the progress of his fellow combatants, and the position of their demolitionist. Brows draw in a slight frown. This is taking too long. <<"Second position secured, charges en route. Commencing advance on the final artillery position.">>

Yuun intercepts a shot with the blade of his lightsaber, sending it into the ground. His eyes quickly tracking enemies as they continue to fight around the second emplacement. Yuun doesn't allow his focus to slip, he steps in towards a group of pirates, he was hoping some would back off, they were losing ground but no they weren't. As blasters fire, Yuun weaves through the bolts in a fast graceful motion, his strike he delivers cuts down an enemy until another three bodies lay on the ground. "Go with the Force." he says as he looks over to Ban. "Let's go." he says as he follows Ban.

Further into the fray they all go, swords slashing, blasters blasting, lightsabers lightsabing? Whatever the correct term for what a lightsaber does, it is happening and with great efficiency among the Jedi there. Rune pushes past the falling bodies of the pirates to engage more around the second gun encampment, the sounds of battle dimming as the group makes short work of their opposition.

Blade lifted, targets spotted, and Rune goes to work with his emerald blade deftly and expertly cutting the air around one solo pirate, the column of light thrumming mercilessly as it connects against nothing with immensely deadly force.

Once all slashes have been given and Rune pulls back defensively, the two stare at each other over the short expanse, both sidelong glancing at the humming cylinder of light that extends from the hilt in Rune's hand. The Padawan can simply offer up a shrug to the pirate, a moment of levity within a grueling affair.

Nora's cold blue eyes remain glued to the pirate across from her, laughing a little when they take their advance and swing twice at her. She parries one, and then reroutes the other, letting her blade sliiiiiide down the curve of that saber and bring the point of her saber through their throat and out the back. "Ahhh, missed a step," she says, and gives their body a push to pull her blade out from their throat and let them collapse in a heap on the ground. Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare with a little huff of irritation when Corto chides her. She watches the blast of a shotgun rip through the air and miss its target entirely, a brow quirked and a soft little laugh bubbling from her lips. "Quite," is all she says. Searching for a new target, her eyes find Kohnner and she, too, tips her head in confusion. Not because he's being sexy with one of the pirates, but because... well. It's a small galaxy. She turns to engage with the pirate Corto had shot at. Her advance is swift and aggressive, pushing them onto their heels as she swings once. Twice. Clang. Clang.

"It is not too late to surrender, you know. Throw down your blade," clang, "Bend the knee...!" Clang.

"If not, mind your feet."

The third gun is pursued by the Vigilance crew, charging and gunning down the remaining pirates on the beach. <<"We have made it to the third gun,">> Yells one of the crew members. <<"Placing charges no--static,">> A sudden explosion rocks the beach at the third gun as a demolitions charge goes off prematurely. Everyone, including the crew fighting at the third gun, is consumed by the sudden blast, kinetic concussion, and tower of black smoke. The turret is gone, but at a cost.

Ser Lars cuts down the final two at Gun two just in time to witness the destruction of the third gun with a look of horror. "Oh no!" He calls out, <<"The crew set upon the last cannon has fallen. There is nothing to do but search the aftermath to find those fortunate enough to have survived.">>

Debris from the final gun begins to fall from the sky as streamers of black smoke span far and wide.. some setting down in the sea, while others collide with the battlements of Last Light.

A mournful cry of a loud beast calls from the misty sea as the large shapes of Thranta burst through the cloud cover and circle overhead. One lands upon the beach near the second gun as the crew disables the second turret. It seems that riders are upon the Thranta, and the one that landed had Kiko Alde, who uses the beast to walk upon the beach. "REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE.. WE ARE FOR THE BATTLEMENTS NOW. RALLY YOUR MEN!"

Bursting through the cloudy mists now are a number of ships, and they begin to land upon the beach, dropping their cargo ramps to allow men to pour out. On one of the U-Wings flying overhead, Aryn watches from the open hatch on the starboard side as Alderaanians and allies form up on the beach and begin to charge the distant gates to the Last Light keep. Lady Kiko urges her Thranta airborne again, joining the other Knights as they clear the ramparts guarding the gates. The next phase of the attack was to begin.. now to save House Killesa! To VICTORY, FOR ALDERAAN!

Oh, she knows that particular curse well. As they run, Ulani turns towards Bors with a strike of panic. "Are you---" Silly question. He's not okay, but he's still moving so that will have to do. She swallows her panic and makes herself keep running. "We're almost there. Almost done. Just a little---"

BOOOM! Down the beach, the third turret goes up with a flash and kinetic push of uncontrolled detonation. Ulani instinctively ducks behind the second gun's base, shielding herself from the aftershocks of the blast with a worried frown. There but for the grace of the Gods go her.

Shaking the thought from her mind, she scurries up the second gun and lays the next charge. Without the pressure of encroaching assailants, it gets a bit better and in moment, the next explosive is set and she hops back down. "Clear the way! Clear the way!" She yells it as loud as she possibly can while --- you guessed it -- clearing the way.

When all are a safe distance away, Ulani activates both charges remotely and in a burst of pyrotechnics, the other two guns go down allowing reinforcements to fly in at their leisure.

Every other step is absolutely a nightmare. Step, step <"MMmmMmmm."> lunge step, drag. Lung step, drag. <"Well this is quite the brine soaked gourd, isn't it?"> biting down and shifting his pins to get moving and follow Ula about with a considerable limp and a quiet grumbling about how he is beginning to miss his right leg taking the brunt of his injuries.

It's unconscionable.

It's inconceivable.

It's a Thranta?

<"Mother deliver us..."> staring up and following the majestic movements while explosions and blaster fire go all around. <"Wonders never cease..."> shifting his weight some to keep pressure off a particular part of his body, <"Ula dear, can you spray some of that numbing agent on my backside? I expect it's going to get... hectic.">