Log:Shadow Over The Galaxy

The New Republic Fleet is destroyed and Chandrila's fate is sealed

OOC Date: January 22nd, 2023
Location: Space over Chandrila
Participants: Noemie Lenoir, Nerys Greystorm, Sesti Greystorm, Kael Greystorm, Poe Dameron, Tess Vikander, Rieve Selki, Ektor, B'haav Adasta, Karas Darkwing, Judith Paidi, Evie Kora. Reverberate as GM

The battle over Chandrila rages, the gravity of the world collecting the debris of fighters and larger craft already destroyed in the fighting that has burned across the skies since the first Sith drop pods began to fall. Saber Squad had opened a window for escape, at significant cost. But it was a window that was undeniable. The gravity well spheres of the craft they'd eliminated were breaking apart with the massive black wedge of the ship that carried it. Already craft at the edges of the system were taking advantage and were flickering with pseudomotion as they jump to lightspeed.

<<"Their interdictor is down, get to any point you can and evacuate. All New Republic craft, cover escapes. There ar-">>

One voice is silenced, turbolaser fire focusing from two of the five present Star Destroyers eradicating the source of the transmission, bringing wordless sounds of shock and horror when comms across the system are hot-mic'd, <<"BY THE FORCE!">> <<"THEY'RE GONE!">> <<"WE'RE DOOMED!">> <<"Bellerophon is GONE. REPEAT! The BELLEROPHON IS GONE!">>

Fighters that had been launching from the MC80b already scattering to evade point fire and the TIEs swarming from the Imperial vessels. The formally graceful shape of the cruiser breaking apart, detonations from ordinance magazines, power supplies and the exploding engines showering the shrapnel of its corpse into the growing melee.

<<"This is Home One, New Republic Craft, call out, get people to safety, Chancellor Calrissian is dead, Hanna is evacuating. We have signals on hyperspace sensors.">> The elder craft, survivor of the Civil War, home of the New Republic during the Dark Times turns, with Defiance and Destiny with it, trying to answer the barrages of the far more heavily armed

Two more Star Destroyers emerge from hyperspace, TIE craft pouring from their hangars and still more appearing from hyperspace. Great red and black waves approaching the world of Chandrila, destroying and disabling any non Sith craft in range. Exploding craft send staccato flashes through space, mixed with the burning glare of turbolasers and the shriek of sensor alarms.

<<"This is Rogue One, Rogue is leaving atmosphere, providing escort.">> the red marked X-Wings of the squadron, with barely half their number, appearing to join the melee. Just as the Flurry goes up, its communications halted.

When the siege of Chandrila had begun, Noemie Lenoir had been in Hanna City on business for the Artisans Guild. The meeting had been going fairly well before it was put on hold to be finished at a later date as the announcement of the meeting between Chancellor Calrissian and Empress Kessa was to take place imminently. Noemie had come to Chandrila a few times in the past and found the city to be quite lovely

The Nestt-class Light Freighter 'Crescent Moon' had been modified to be fast in both hyperspace as well as subspace. It was an unarmed craft which suited Noemie quite well, as she had reservations about fighting and hurting people. She'd brought it today rather than her N-1 as Chandrila was known to fabricate some of their own textiles and she'd intended to take some back with her to Naboo.

That chance wouldn't come, however, as the world came under attack, starting right there in Hanna City. Noemie had been in the city center as the attack came, and unarmed and unarmored as she preferred to be. It was for this reason that she traveled with Peaches - a restored and modified droideka that would accompany her from time to time and had its repeater cannons modified to deliver non-lethal rounds. Peaches would protect Noemie on her way back to the starport and the girl's slow pace ultimately worked out to her favor as she wasn't part of the initial wave of ships that had come under fire before the resistance fleet flew in to protect those who were quickly becoming refugees.

On her way to the Crescent Moon, Noemie had commed for Muja, her R2 droid, and Scrappy, the ship's designated repair PIT droid, to prepare the ship and lower the hatch for people that needed rides off-world. And many people did, as it would turn out. The ship held several dozen beings of many different colors and races by the time Noemie got on board. While the resistance fleet engaged the Sith fleet, Noemie took the time to lock her quarters and change in to her flight suit, fearing she may need it if she came under attack. It was a red flight suit that, while not designed by the RSF, fit the color scheme worn by the fighter pilots on her homeworld.

Minutes later Noemie was on the flight deck to bring the ship to the air, throttling up to sufficient delta v to find Chandrila's escape velocity. "It's going to be a rough ride, Muja fruit! Let me know of any discrepancies with the ship!" Noemie had a housekeeper and a security agent onboard as part of the ship's crew and she knew they'd be earning bonuses today.

The Birena Tai had microjumped across the system, and it was a short hop from space into the hangar of the Kima, the Starseeker's systems already powered up by the time Nerys made her way to the command deck. Every weapon was primed, and crew in position for the jump back into the heat of battle. "Alright folks," Nerys' voice rang across the ship's intercoms. "Our mission's clear. We'll be establishing a defensive screen in space above Chandrila. The mission is to create a safe vector for the civilian ships to launch from the planet and jump away. We stay as long as we can, but we're not taking on the Sith Fleet singlehandedly." So don't get your hopes up, folks. "This is only the first battle of many. We survive today and we win tomorrow."

The sound of the Kima's drives spinning up broke briefly into the open line, before the not at all big corvette snapped out, popping back almost instantly into the space above the embattled planet. Nerys' voice rang out, coming in along all republic aligned and civilian comms channels. Were they being monitored by the Sith? Quite likely, but the ship's allegiance would be known soon enough. <<"This is the CRV Kima. We will be providing a defensive screen for all ships wishing to depart Chandrila. Get behind us if you need, and stay out of our firing solution.">> The ship had no fighters of it's own, but it did have weapons, which began to establish a screen of fire against the incoming Sith ships.

What had started as a packing up of the Iridonian Embassy quickly turned into an evacuation operation as the news came out from the Senator's office personnel of the attack. The under mansion bunker set up by Eedulk, Sesti's Chief Security Officer started fielding transmissions and coordinating the few ships they had brought to Chandrila under the cover of moving the Senator's belongings and family to their home planet. "It IS earlier than we planned, but we've gone over the plan a dozen times or more, we can do this," Sesti assures another person over the comm station from the Kal'Ayure. "We just won't be bringing as much extra supplies with us. Hopefully we'll shake the Sith by the second or third rendezvous and can recover." The teams rush around the mansion, and what was going to be boxed to be 'moved' will just have to stay out, it was never really coming along anyway. As the passengers start to crowd in, Sesti moves from the comms over to the pilot console. "I wish Jax had been able to get here," she mutters, then smiles grimly. "But the Force will be with us." She begins to ramp up the engines, checking all systems, and as soon as the ramp is up and the crowded yacht buttoned up, she radios to her comms. <<Kal'Ayure lifting off>>. Taking a steadying breath, she pushes at the controls, and then they are clearing the trees into the sky.

Poe Dameron is settled into the control cabin of the VCX-100 named 'Ghost', a relic from the first Rebel Alliance that has kept its razor sharp edge despite having a new pilot. Poe flips several switches, the blue light from their travel in hyperspeed illuminating his face, accentuating the presence of a small white headset with a boom mic. Beside him, Chewbacca is handling the co-pilot seat, running his furry paw along a row of switches and grunting to Poe.

"Yeah, it /could/ be worse, but what's better than taking out some TIEs and blowing drek up?" Poe says back, cupping his hand over the top of the throttle that will bring them out of hyperspace. He cues up the intercom and external comms to those with them, both inside the Ghost and traveling with the Ghost. <<"Coming out on my mark... MARK!">> Poe yanks the throttle back, creating a loud roar from its hyper-engine. "IMPULSES UP TO MAX.. WE'RE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT!" Poe screams as Chewie starts throwing a fit. "I AM PULLING UP!"

Located in the back gun, within a gunner seat and spooling up a pair of double-heavy cannons is Krssantan (Santos), who grumbles at being jerked around by the ship's sudden movement.

<<"This is Ghost, joining the fight. Who all is on comms, and what's our strategy here, people?">>

Unbridled chaos continues only this time, it is within the infamous ship Ghost being piloted by the very infamous Poe and on one of the front guns the incredible, no-name Tess Vikander. The resident doctor who sometimes shoots people -- because, hey, it's good for business -- she's strapped into a front seat of the ship as they race through space at what many would consider ludicrous speeds. She used to blanch at the hot-dogging tactics of her employer, but these days she's mostly gotten used to it. Mostly.

"You know things are desperate when you have me in this seat, Poe," she says tensely, her hands on the controls like someone who has only seen how things are done rather than actually knowing what to do. "And who is that blue-haired lad you brought on? It he going to shoot out of the side window?" No time for proper introductions, really. Maybe later if they don't all explode.

Being a doctor and as much as a gunner as she is a wookiee, the mess outside their viewing screen is... well. "What do I even shoot at?" The most important of questions.

Rieve had managed to stumble aboard the Ghost after a running battle through the streets of the capital, his blue silken robes splattered with the blood of a couple of Storm Troopers who likely hadn't expected a vibrosword wielding Hapan to approach them, and likewise the blood of Chandrila citizens who had caught blaster bolts or shrapnel while standing beside Rieve's brightly coloured form. Though his right arm was tightly bandaged, the sleeve burnt and bloodied, Rieve moved to toss the bloody vibrosword to one side for it served little purpose here and now aboard the Ghost, while a seemingly panicked R2 unit bumped up against Rieve and issued a staccato series of beeps that Rieve had little hope of understanding.

"Sorry my little friend... I... don't understand. You seem worried, but first we've got to do what we can to keep this ship flying. Yes?" The normally flowing accent seems tired, strained, yet even Rieve manages to smile at the droid and rest his bloodied hand against the dome of that fine little droid. "Come on, we'll have the run of the ship, you point, I'll do whatever you deem necessary my friend..." The blue-haired Hapan nodded, gathering what he could as he fell in line with the droid, one hand resting against a bulkhead for support, the R2 poised, trilling a few worried beeps towards the Hapan it seems to have adopted.

To his newfound crewmates, Rieve calls out. "I'll do what I can, which is little!"

Having arrived in the Greystorm Hangar Kael looks around as the droids and crew of the Tempest Warden have gotten everything that they could on board the Tempest Warden. With a sigh the man scurries onto the Marauder Corvette himself and makes his way to the bridge checking his holsters to make sure his weapons are back to where they belong. As he takes a seat in the Captain's chair he keys up the ship's Intercomms, "Not a drill folks the Sith are taking Chandrilla." Turning to look over at the helm, "Get us into the air. As soon as we start moving and clear of anything that's friendly get our shields up. Weapons hot I want anything targetting civilian craft removed from the skies." He glances over at the R3 droid, "Lexxie we're not staying here. Start plotting a hyper jump."

The Tempest Warden is launching into space soon after the Birena Tai had made it's microjump. <"Kima this is the Warden we're moving into a screening position with you. Any friendly fighters out there mind handling point defense while we get as many of these civvies a clear route out of here?"> The Marauder's engines moving the corvette into position near the Kima. Keying up when he hears the Ghost Kael chuckles, <"I don't know that we have a strategy besides getting as many out of here as we can. Hopefully we'll be enough to save some lives.">

An old model Y-wing reconnaissance bomber banks lazily back and forth alongside the Ghost, lacking any Republic markings, and decorated only with welding scores, and a curious stylized skull symbol painted atop the armored canopy. He hears out the panic of Chandrilla's doomed defenders with a lip flapping exhale that mercifully remains off comms, before briefly muting the panicking Republic channel to signal Ghost on a closed channel. <<Stop me if you heard this one before, yeah? Overwhelming odds, desperate evacuation, oh no oh no we all gonna die, yeah? It's like we never left,>> Ektor quips in a sardonic drawl. He doesn't bother interjecting as to strategy, balancing shields and shifting auxiliary power to weapon systems.

It was just another trip for cargo, until B'haav Adasta had seen the first people running across the starport from the transparisteel view of his A.I. Assault Transport - a too-pugilistic choice for cargo, but the unusual captain had his reasons for always traveling prepared. A few people running could be anything. When it turned into dozens, and then droves, B'haav took one look at his datapad and then understood. <<"Jae, Ant... Drop the cargo, as fast as you can,">> comes the order over the intercom. A minute later, the secret Balosar had been outside waving down as many fleeing as he could, pointing to the somewhat-spacies cargo bay.

Now, the Steadfast Pharple is filled to the brim - cargo bay, captain's quarters, engineering, passages - with as many as he could safely fit. B'haav turns up the comm, finding the system's authority channel and sending an open transmission. <"To all concerned, this is the Steadfast Pharple. I carry no military cargo, nor anything high-value from that perspective. Only evacuees. I have no gunner... We are in need of cover."> The oversized engines begin to scream and repulsors push the ship off the ground, even as distant explosions can be seen.

Karas was gathering himself, anger roiled through him at the loss a friend, he looks on letting his fighter sit for the time being as Spark his R2 astromech worked on the shield generator. He didn't like sitting, but this gave him a few moments to collect himself. "I'm sorry Zan, you will not be forgotten. I've lost too many damn people I care about." he shakes his head. *Beep, Beep!* looking up at his tactical display, shields were in the green, no hull damage to his fighter.

Flipping the tact net back on, he hears all the chaos, fear does try to grip Karas, but he's survived the damn First Order, , he will survive the damn Sith Eternal and he will damn sure make these kriffing nerf herders feel the pain he feels right now. "Time to get back in the fight, power up the shields more and keep the sensor array going. We need to make sure all the civies get out of here as well as the leadership." he says to Spark. Spark gives a strong affirmation of his commands. Upon hearing Rogue Squadron coming in, <<Rogue 7 will rendevous up with you.>> he calls as he transmit his New Republic codes to them and the other New Republic ships so that they don't shoot him down. <<Let's make sure all the civilians get out of here. May the Force be with us!>> he says over the New Republic comms.

Pushing the throttle full to MAX, power pours into the engines of the T-70 X-wing as it streaks forward to join up with the rest of Rogue Squadron.

Brother Bizz fought his way to the star port, loaded up his orphans and a few Disciples of the Whills into his hovertruck, and got them aboard his ship. Now the large, slow, and ugly GS-100 Salvager VISCACHA is rising out of Chandrila's ionosphere and into space. The orphans on his ship have mostly been corraled but their pets have not. A cawing Jubba bird flies through the cockpit being chased by humming peepers who have escaped from their cages. A slobbering Blarth from Naboo is running around being chased by one of the children, who is in turn being chased by an orange Tooka cat. "Put your seatbelt on!" Bizz says to her. "And don't feed that Blarth any more yobshrimps!" A periscope descends from the cockpit's ceiling, opening up its trigger-controllers as the VISCACHA's single dorsal quad laser turret begins to come on-line. "<<This is the VISCACHA, we are starting hyperspace calculations!>>"

Rolling in outta nowhere is a pink-haired woman, muttering something about how some job wasn't worth the pay, grabbing onto the nearest open ramp and panting as she boards someone's ship. Without permission, but who's going to ask in a situation like this? The inside of the Kima and its crew are foreign to Judith, but to anyone surprised by her appearance, she simply flashes a toothy smile, offers, "Thought you'd like a mechanic in these trying times," and integrates herself thusly. With a nervous grin, she hopes she won't be kicked off.

<<"Copy, Kima. This is General Antilles">> the voice of both the New Republic Fleet and Home One's commander crackling over comms, a strain in the old man's voice and then communications briefly halt when the redundant shield systems engage. The cerulean bubble surrounding the aged cruiser glowing so brightly it nearly occludes sight of the flagship. '

<<"Ghost, this is Blue Leader we're lining up.">> <<"Gold squadron reporting in.">> <<"Green Two, we lost Vortus...">> regret heavy in the voice, pushing through the distortion scrambling, Blue squadrons A-Wings and Gold's Assault B-Wings with them. The X-Wings brandishing the title of Green already in the midst of a melee, with other squadrons calling out.

Orange, Grey, Violet, Azure, and long resurrected Red among them. Already suffering losses. Already giving their all to buy the transports and evacuation craft avenues of escape.

<<"Ghost, Home One, we don't have the sort of firepower to hold off this many... they're not even issuing offers for our surrender...">> Defiance and Home One continue to languidly push forward, screening other craft while their broadsides smash against Star Destroyer shields. Detonations rake along the port flank of Witchcraven, forcing the star destroyer to roll and turn, attempting to hide damage behind fresher shields and answering with a hailstorm of viridian turbolaser fire that paints the hulls of craft near a gleaming emerald.

<<"Transport group one is nearing the edge of planetary gravity, we've got a lot of civllians mingling though.">>

<<"Then get them OUT">> Wedge's voice again, the last word bitten out. Tormentor and Prophet turning to bring their shields dangerously close to one another, angling their starboard sides. The Republic cruiser Nautilian seeming to balk when it pulls up short, faced by the two monoliths of war.

<<"Wedge?">> the voice, a Mon Calamari's, warbling over comms and a torrent of missiles and cannon fire being launched, screening ahead of the X-Wing and B-Wing squadrons leaping out, trying to close on the craft, avoid their own TIE screens, <<"May the Force be with you.">>

Despite their comparative nimbleness when contesting with capital class weaponry, many of those bravely charging simply cease to be in the wake of the veritable wall of turbolaser cannon fire that passes, hammering into the flank of Nautilian, collapsing shields and focusing along the cruisers mid-line, gouging gaping rents in her hull before passing through. The entire ship going dark and beginning to tumble from the last vectors of thrusters and engines before they went cold.

The blue skies of Chandrila (darkened by smoke and fire down on the surface) fade as the Crescent Moon breaks the atmosphere. The black of space sets in rather quickly as the air becomes magnitudes thinner with each kilometer. The ship's artificial gravity kicks in at the appropriate time and, holding the yoke steady with one hand, Noemie's white-gloved hand reaches out to trigger for the ship's comms. <<"To everyone on board! This is the Captain -">> Her hazel eyes glance out the viewport at the exchange of turbolaser fire in the distance, flashes of red and green shining off the walls of her cockpit. She puts some bravery in to her voice as she resumes the broadcast. <<"We're going to get to safe jump distance and jump for Empress Teta - it's close! Find something to hold on to, and if you're medically trained please see to the others!">>

Switching her comm frequency she makes for a broadcast on the only known Republic channel she is aware of - and that thanks to her father having told her some years back, in case something like this ever happened. <<"Republic fleet, this is freighter Crescent Moon! We've several dozen refugees on board and will require cover as we make our escape!">> Not wanting to clog the comms, she leaves it at that. Looking in to the reflection in the viewport she can see her R2 unit behind her plugged in to the navigation console. "Muja fruit, find us the safest vector you can, and get Scrappy back there in engineering to start prepping for shield repairs!" The young woman's eyes narrow in concentration as she leans forward in her seat, both hands on the yoke, twisting the ship away from an incoming A-Wing as it spirals out of control during the onslaught.

"We can always use a helping hand," a Twi'lek dressed in the Kima's standard white and blue uniform piped up as he looked towards the woman addressing ther many within the ship's hangar bay. Considering the evacuees that had ran pell-mell into the Tai before the 2400 had taken off, and the lack of time to interview anyone to see if they had useful skills, or, if they were willing to help, the human announcing her intentions to assist were welcome. "I'm Ruphi, you can come with me to engineering." And then the Twi'lek was off, moving at speed, expecting the human to follow after him. "You got a name?"

Up in the command desk, Nerys and her crew held the ship steady, adjusting the fire to try to provide as much room for the civvie ships as they could. "Don't get cocky, just keep them clear, and report any damage as soon as it hits us. We've got a good crew." And then the battle began in earnest, as the ship, still staying in palce, as they had promised, for now, adjust firing to send that fire towards the incomign Sith ships.

<<Kal'Ayure reporting in. We have four small transports that are not battle worthy,>> Sesti relates over comms. <<We will hyperspace as soon as we are clear of gravity, just>> she flinches as one of the ties screams by too close for comfort. "Have to get there," she finishes in a determine undertone, taking sight on the swarm of Sith gnats in front of her and tagging one, dinging its shields and getting some clear flying space. <<Our fighters did not make lift off, we are flying without escort,>> she adds, as her turret gunner miss their targets.

"You're right where you need to be, Doc. Plenty of drek to shoot at.." Poe says over comms as he and Chewie manage to get a handle on the Ghost whilst listening to Ektor's joke. <<"Yeah, it's just like old times out here..">> Some what strained sounding, and focused.

The Ghost rocks violently as the noise from the engine room increases. The view from the control cabin has a number of ships zipping by the view, bright green and red lances of laser light flashing at odd angles, and brief explosions coloring the orbit above Chandrila. <<"All wings, this is Ghost. Just like at Exegol, we need to buy time by disabling cannons. Follow me in, we're going to smash as many cannons as we can. Interceptors and X-Wings.. focus on escorts. Do what you can. We must capitalize on getting as much of the fleet out of here! If there's a fleet after this.. there's still hope!">>

Poe engages a deep dive, and Chewie has to switch on a number of inertia dampeners as gravity from the planet begins to shake the vessel. Angling back up, they had a TIE following them. A hit from front double heavies ruins their shields, and Santos is quick to destroy the TIE as they pass it heading up.. straight toward the belly of one of the Star Destroyers, and its cannon assembly.

<<"Bomber squads, link up with Addict Shak, see about dropping some ion bombs to disable shields so we have a fight here!">>

Rieve nods to the R2 unit that has adopted him? Or has he adopted it? Either way Rieve has flung open his medpac and is in the process of stemming various small wounds and tending to those who suffered on the escape through the city streets and the star port. While bandages are soon running out, a good few patients are soon sporting rich blue silken bandages torn from sections of Rieve's Hapan finery. Drugs are administered for the pain, brows are soothed, cheeks are cupped, and soothing Hapan words are offered to those in a hurried yet no less sincere manner. Every jostle and shake of the Ghost is met with a gap-toothed smile, and likely a beep. "Worry not my dear hearts, the Generale is a fine pilot... and once we are..." The Ghost shakes, and Rieve continues to regardless, that smile etched upon his grime-streaked features. "... once we are free of the ariag'nee, we shall be safe and well... you're in good hands, I swear it." The warm flowing words so distinctly accented, so easily drifting from Rieve's lips are perhaps tinged with pain, but the smile is true as the Hapan moves and tends to those he can aboard the Ghost.

Kael may have sat down in the captain's chair when the ship was taking off but he's standing there now holding onto the armrest for some support as he leans in to look at the viewport and then at the sensor logs, "Target the nearest Star Destroyer." And as the Kima begins shooting he looks over the sensor readings before keying up the intercomm, "Prepare for incomming shots. Engineering keep those shields up. Gunners fire on the nearest Star Destroyer." Then he kinda eyeballs the distance and direction of travel before he blind fires the missiles from the Marauder a majority of the turbolasers slamming into the shields before the two missiles impact causing pretty explosions, <"I think I've got some of their attention might help a bit of the fleet. But this old bird's not going to survive long in a brawl with a Star Destroyer."> A tightbeam over to the Kima, <"No point defense for me over here so if you could be so kind as to provide a bit of support in that aspect I'd appreciate it.">

Ektor chuckles and nods to Poe's instructions, even though no one can see him nod. "I hear you, Pretty Boy. One throat punch coming right up." He instructs the Astromech, "Hey, new droid: yeah, don't bother telling me the designation, I ain't gonna remember it unless this works.. Scan the big ugly one for shield generators, yeah? -Whaddya mean WHICH one, the one I'm flying is at, yeah??" While bickering, he guides the light bomber through a phalanx of Sith cannon fire. Switching his comms back to Republic standard frequencies, he drawls, <<Arright, any unengaged Republic bombers within fifty kliks of my position, form up behind me, for a dorsal run on the- oh, rekk me, what kinda Hutt-sucker names a ship the Ruination- yeah? ANYWAY, I'll run point and try something stupid, rest of you ready to drop the big boom.>> He arms proton torpedoes and narrows down the target lock while guiding his heavy fighter through an inverted approach that lines him up with the bottom spine of Bloodmoon class star destroyer. Ektor amends, <<My bad, yeah? I meant ventral. No lie, those words shouldn't be so alike."

<<"Everyone, hold tight to something. If you see someone who needs help, help them. And make room for the BB droid.">> B'haav explains over the intercom as calmly as his gravel voice allows between cleansing breaths that are more effort than not. <<"You are all going to be fine.">> The doctor-of-sorts looks to BB-AV. "Bav... I need you to go aft, take the lift to engin-" The barrier to space is rapidly approaching, and the Balosar puts his attention on the void beyond in anticipation of... Who knows what? "Engineering. We may take fire... You have to keep the shields up." There's a shocked Twee-roop from the droid, and then it sprints aft as fast as it rolls, evacuees making what room they can in response to further chirps and beeps from the droid.

As the Steadfast Pharple breaks into space, the breadth and scope of the battle taking place puts the explosions in Hanna City to shame. TIE fighters everywhere, massive star destroyers blasting destruction everywhere, debris and wreckage already spreading. And a trained psychologist tries to pilot a ship full of refugees through it. Naturally, it's not going to go well. Keeping his proverbial head down as best he can, there's still plasma fire enough to go around, and a healthy dose of spray - some intentional, and some stray - crackles and drains some of the Aquatic Infantry Assault Transport's shields. "Oh shav-" B'haav flicks on the intercom to engineering. <<"Bav, as soon as you're there, work the shield generator for all its worth!">> B'haav Adasta needs help.

There is plenty of targets of opportunity but right now, the Civilians needed more exit routes. The red and black X-Wing streaks through the battlefield, weaving and rolling until SPark sends data and upon hearing Setsti flying without cover, <> he calls into his tact net. Karas flips the switch for the s-foils. As the wings seperate and open, red energy beams lance out towards a nearby TIE.

Bizz's R5 droid inserts its scomp link into the old navigational controls and angles the slow blundering VISCACHA toward the nav point. "Hold it steady you bumbling bucket of bolts!" Bizz grips the remote turret control periscope, using the training handles to rotate as TIE fighters flit by. Pedals on the floor of the cockpit make the newly-installed AG-2G quad laser turret pitch up or down. "Almost got him..." Unfortunately the slobbering Blarth from Naboo runs through Bizz's short legs and depresses a pedal, making his turret veer off target. THUM-THUM-THUM-THUM goes the turret, firing off into space. "<<Broggle my hssiss lizards, you clumsy Blarth-dog!>>" he curses at the Blarth. Some of that carries over the comm frequency. Enemy laser blasts make the entire salvage ship tremble.

Keeping pace as best she can with the Twi'lek named Ruphi, "Judith" is returned, the woman is panting, the knows well that it's not time to rest yet. Familiarizing herself with the ship as fast as possible, she adds, "Silver lining, I acclimate best with the hands-on approach." With that, she gets to work seeing if anything's broke the best way she knows how - by hitting it. So far, so good! Let's hope it stays that way. "What did we do to make them so grumpy?" she asks rhetorically about the current invasion to anyone within earshot.

They say fortune favors the brave. Well, trying to rescue civilians from a Sith fleet intent on causing as many casualties as possible doesn't count, what does?

Which may explain why one of those 'civilians' that managed to get onto the Steadfast Pharple was none other than the Empress of the Void herself. On planet to work on a business arrangement, all in pursuit of a prototype that still feels eons away, she got on the first ship she saw -- her own sitting safely back at her shop -- and huddled in.

As /her/ luck would have it. It was a friendly ship indeed. So she wove her way through the refugees until she could make her way into the cockpit, peeking around the frame. Eyes are lit up like the void of space is by starship fire. These are the moments she lives for.

"Need a hand, Doc?" she asks with a wink. Even Evie isn't going to just barge in and take control of another man's ship. She's not a heathen!

TIEs chasing after civilian craft do so with vicious persistence. A transport liner to one side of the Pharple reporting shields going out before multiple missiles strike, turning it into a glowing sphere of shrapnel that pelts against B'Haav's shields. More are hunted, run to proverbial ground, battered by multiple fighters at once until destroyed, or they begin powering down and issuing surrender beacons.

Some of those craft seeking to escape head straight for the Kima and the Warden, fire from the lighter cruisers forcing TIE craft to break off pursuit. Allowing an old Baleen with several YT craft clinging like skates to a Manaan Firaxaan shark,

<<"We're getting clear! Thank you! Thank you!">> a chorus of similar outcries before they jump the lightspeed, rescued by heavier craft now turning their attention on the Greystorm and Irregulars craft. A Gallofree with its bridge alight with warning lights and alarms, finding themselves suddenly without a lock warning.

"Thank space..." one of those aboard sighs, looking out their viewport to see the Rogue X-Wing roaring past, underlit by the explosion that had been their pursuer. There's a cheer in that control cabin before the oblong ship makes the leap. More and more civilian craft joining that action. The Ruination turning towards the Tempest Warden, slowly, some of its cannons already beginning to swiveling, opening fire to hurl lances of coherent energy towards the assisting corvettes.

<<"There's too many of them!">> <<"CAN'T SHAKE EM!">> <<"Starboard deflector screen is failing!">>

Callouts announcing trouble outweighing triumphs.

<<"Home One, all forces. Just a little more.">> one of the destroyers, Implacable, suffering damage along its forward port side now, before shields are redistributed.

subspace trajectory calculations, forwarding them to Noemie's primary sensor readout. Noemie drops her eyes from her flying to line up with the vector, reaching a hand out to confirm the flight path. "Thanks, Muja fruit!"

Around her, a TIE fighter takes an opportunistic pot-shot at her, finding its mark as the Crescent Moon's shields flicker with the low-powered hit of a near-miss.

Noemie had never been shot at before, so this comes as quite the shock to her. She shrieks shortly and pulls down the visor of her helmet as though expecting to be blasted in to space straight away. Thankfully her droids are more calm than she is. On the engineering deck, one of her PIT droids pulls apart the shield generator's access plating (as PIT droids must always do things the complicated way), and, grabbing for a hydrospanner, begins to replace the number four power coupling.

Crescent Moon's saffron-tinted engine glow flares as it makes a slow bank to port on its escape vector, dodging the brunt of the battle as best it can.

<<"Copy that, Tempest, moving into position to assist you.">> The Kima's engines flared, moving into position to provide support the the Tempest Warden, its lighter, nimbler weapons screening as best they could to allow the Tempest Warden's bigger guns to do some damage. Its shields were at full capacity, just waiting for the return strike to come. When you slapped a bully, they almost always slapped back. "Make sure your jump is ready to go. We're not going to last long out here if they decide to look in our direction."

Ruphi makes his way down to the shield generators, waving a hand towards one of the banks for Judith to get into position. "We're just too pretty." if you couldn't find humour in the end of the world, what were you doing?

And then there eas no time for humour, as the Kima was under fire, the alarms screaming and sending the ships engineers and droids into high gear to repair the damage and keep the system functioning. Nerys, though, paid the alarms no mind, still in it for the haul. At least as long as the ship would last. "All gunners target that Destroyer's shields! Let's give our fighters a fighting chance!" The shield alarms soon winked off, but likely not for long.

With the comms off for now, as Sesti dodges and tries to find a lane towards open space, she turns her words to the sensors. "How are our transports doing?" "They're still with us but one has taken some shrapnel to the hull." "All right gunners, let's keep them off that transport, give them something to think about," she tells her crew as she lifts up to try and the transport from more debris. One of the turrets coughs, sputters and there's a curse over the comms, then, "fixed it, 'm good". The other turret and Sesti's lasers do give the ties something to think about, dropping most of their shields and they pull back, giving the Iridonians a sight of some black straight ahea

The Ghost is set on course, following the flight trajectory that was otherwise suicide. Chewie knew this, Poe knew this, and thankfully Santos did not. Poe's voice over the intercom alerts everyone to, <"Hold onto something, this may hurt!">

What may hurt?

Poe's piloting takes them through the thick shields of the Star Destroyer Ruination, successfully arriving on the other side to skim over the top of the large destroyers exterior hull. One by one turret stations begin to explode as Poe forces the impulse engines to max output.

Chewie is pretty upset about the maneuver, but having flown with Han Solo for years, he was used to doing things that put them at risk. He and Poe worked in tandem, addressing proximity alerts and adjusting their flight path. Buttons were mashed, switches flipped, and each explosion they were responsible for was another death avoided.

Ghost's golden engines were glowing bright as it made for Ruination's main cannon assembly, the one capable of catastrophic damage. "Anything on us?" Poe asked Chewie, and the wookiee just grunted.

A few shuddering groans and Rieve pushes away from the huddled masses, stumbling a step before resuming his typically graceful stance. A glance to the R2 Unit and the two nod towards the glimmer of sparks down a corridor, and with the R2 speeding away, Rieve moves off to follow. "I know nothing of the ships innards..." And indeed when they reach that particular patch of shorted wiring, the language barrier certainly proves as difficult as the height barrier that the R2 suffers with regard to the wiring up above. "Red? White? It is all the same to me... what?" The R2's beeping certainly seens irritated as Rieve fiddles with the wiring. "I was taught how to dance, how to express ones self in noble company, I was not taught how to mess with wires mon brat... I know I know! Useless skills! You are truly erenedi... if you were talleer too, you'd be useful, but we might as well wish for peace eh?" Beep! Beep! Beep! "I know of one thing ah might manage... before we explode."

Ektor's Y-wing rocks slightly on approach with a glancing laser blast from a passing TIE, and it shudders again as the Tionese pirate guides the bomber through the Bloodmoon's deflector field, banking abruptly up just in time to avoid cratering on the monstrous cap ship's hull. A crooked grin bends his lip as he skins the belly of the beast, disabling the torpedo's safety reload timer as the wishbone roars toward its target. <<Any Republic types, you might wanna fire all your guns up the Ruination's ass riiight... about... now,>> he advises as the first in a glowing red cascade of four proton torpedoes hammer into the Ruination, along it's ventral ridge. "BOOM, BABY," he crows triumphantly as a critical explosion jets into space in his wake. Only now does Ektor look back to see whether any Republic bombers followed him in to exploit the sudden chink in Ruination's mighty armor.

B'haav flinches as the adjacent ship goes up in shrapnel and missilefire, bits and flack striking the Pharple's shields as if they needed more strain.

'Need a hand, Doc?'

Of all the people B'haav could have imagined walking in, his fleet engineer is one of the least expected. And most welcome. "Evie... If you aren't a hallucination from a mental break, YES!" Straining to unflinch himself, he points unnecessarily to the co-pilot's seat with matching flight controls. "Our shields are at seventy-five percent, and BB-AV should be-" A series of beeps in engineering come across the ship's console display. "Working on them. There isn't time for a new hyperjump, but I've got a fast route to Naboo in the bank if-" Checking himself, B'haav looks back to the Mandalorian. "When you get us clear of the well."

In engineering, BB-AV 'Bav' chirps and whistles to himself, sensors looking from one bank to the next before he plugs into an input array and starts shifting power around to rebuild the shield array without anyone else in the ship noticing. Several of the people in Engineering for lack of other accomodations watch with vested interest, but nothing seems to break. A beat later, the BB unit lets out a whoop as the shields report full power, which he sends on the ship's channels to the cockpit.

"Shields at one hundred," reports the Balosar in the nominal pilot's seat.

Engines flaring brightly in the endless night, the X-Wing banks to the right hard as the TIE it shot down explodes. In mid-bank, the sensors on the T-70 picks up another enemy TIE streaks into range and slowing and diving as the TIE's threat alarms go off alerting the pilot to possible interception. Karas, isn't new to this and as TIE pilot tries to evade him, Karas reduces the power to the engines and snaps into a left roll as he manuvers his fighter into weapons envelop of the enemy TIE. It's only a matter of seconds but they are long seconds until there is a solid lock-on chime going off. Not hesitating, he presses the trigger. Scarlett energy bolts races from the four cannons located on the wings. Keeping on the the tail of the wanting ot escape TIE, but the X-Wing doesn't let it go, the red energy lances strike along the wings and ball cockpit of the TIE until the shields go down and he sees the actual damage on the enemy fighter.

Ruphi's humor kind of goes over Judith's head, possibly a cultural difference, but the human gives a friendly laugh in return before getting into position. Just in time, too, as the scrap hits the fan. And, like she was part of the crew from the beginning, the little firecracker gets into the deep and thick of it all, earning her way to surviving the ordeal by helping the rest of the crew survive. Symbiosis in action.

"Nah, darlin'. Been real all my life, can't say I'm getting into the hallucination business now." Evie replies; unlike the good doctor, she's keeping pretty cool under the circumstances. Warfare is no stranger to the Kuati woman, even before she started wearing that Mandalorian armor.

Once the beautiful 'YES!' is heard, Evie's in motion. Literally leaping from her feet and into the copilot's seat with a practiced ease, fingers already starting to fly over the controls. "When." She agrees, jerking the ship out of the way of one volley of enemy fire. There's a tap-tap on the comms.

<<"Stop writing your wills, ladies and gents. I'm the Captain now. I'm getting you home.">> comes the Kuati drawl, before she switches to allied comms. <<"Attention allied forces. The Empress of the Void has joined the fight. All you Rebel scum out there,">> It's said with a particular affection in her tone. <<"you know what to do. Hit 'em hard, clear a path, and drinks are on me on the other side. Better make my tab go through the roof, or I'll be disappointed. Y'all who don't have the itchy trigger fingers? Stay on my tail, I'll lead the way out.">>

When the updated shields are reported? Evie grins. "Beautiful. Let's keep 'em there. You have any music on this thing?"

<<"WE CAN'T HOLD OUT!">> Vigilant's final call comes a breath before the command bridge disappears under fire, molten metal sinking, flash freezes then melts under the next barrage. The ships dissolution chases the call, bending at the middle and then bulging from explosions ripping her apart from the inside out. Escape pods that had been launched moments before being caught up in TIE fire.

<<"Blue three, splash two!">> TIEs coming under concentrated fire from chasing A-Wings are brought low, left as wreckage like so many others. There are dozens of dead TIEs orbit over Chandrila now, not nearly as many Republic fighters. But there were far fewer republic fighters for there to be destroyed to begin with. But the fighters making the number of civilian deaths far, far lesser with their own sacrifices.

<<"Defiance.">>

A collection of shuttles and small freighters move beyond the ranges of gravity and fire, slipping out of view and into hyperspace. More chase after, time bought for them by the sacrifices of fighters. The work done by bombing pirates and spice runners gone noble. By Irregulars forcing attention shifts and Tempest Wardens unleashing their fury.

<<"General?">>

<<"Code Krenth.">> Wedge's voice the type a man distracted sand distressed, Home One's secondary layer of shields beginning to fail, and the newer model craft flying escort chasing in its wake. The last of Green Squadron calls out their last, their X-Wing blasted to atoms. Part of Gold Squadron that had followed in the Ghost's wake begin dropping ordinance, smashing turbolaser towers with cannons and threatening shields with proton bombs. But even with these successes. The situation is telling.

<<"General??">>

<<"All New Republic craft. We are at Code Krenth. Fighting withdrawal. Civilians are priority.">> Even as he says it, Diligent joins Vigilant in oblivion, hammered by concentrations of fire that overwhelm taxed shield systems, that turn the hull white hot in places before it is torn asunder.

<<"General!">> Defiance's captain calls out, movement sluggardly, as though preparing to follow Home One's change of directory towards the Star Destroyers.

Behind Ektor, a handful of Assault B-Wings chase, following his targeting points, opening fire with cannons until they are flying level, dropping proton bombs en mass. Explosions rip apart the shields Ektor had rendered weakened, hull is blown out and proton bombs begin to dig deeper and deeper into the cruiser, destroying remaining generators and leaving it exposed to other attack.

With incoming TIE fighters firing at her, Noemie's face is horror-struck while she drops Crescent Moon into a sharp curve to avoid a trio of them coming right at her. The fighters hadn't expected the freighter to be quite so nimble (largely thanks to its aftermarket upgrades) which works to its advantage as their green laser blasts zip past the vessel, destined to drift through subspace.

Behind her, R2-M1 chirps something at her, but she doesn't have time to read the translation console while she pulls the ship back on course for its escape vector. "Muja fruit, whatever you're suggesting just make it happen!" The astromech protests with another series of chirps and, though she doesn't know that this is what it's trying to tell her, Noemie sees the trio of TIEs looping around to come at her again.

Nearly at the end of her flight path, she reaches for the hyperspace lever until the TIEs get back in front of her, twisting around to come directly at her once more. They were trying to block her jump. Some pilots would have just jumped with the hopes that the larger craft cuts through the three smaller ones as it approaches lightspeed. Other pilots would have just blasted them out of the way. Noemie, however, was unwilling to bring harm to another person when she was fairly certain she could get out of this without doing so. R2-M1 issues a different notice, eliciting: "Whatever it is, do it!" from Noemie. The ship banks hard for starboard, even though Noemie hadn't twisted the yoke, and when the stars start to elongate into long beams it occurs to her that the astromech, her navigator, had completed the escape vector.

Moments later Crescent Moon is in hyperspace and Noemie collapses backward in to her seat, raising her helmet's visor and taking a moment to catch her breath. Next stop: Empress Teta.

"Come on my brother!" Rieve claps a hand against the R2's rounded dome and offers it a weary if noble smile. "I have faith in you, more than you in me I am sure." The Hapan in his torn and ragged robes moves to assist the R2, tugging aside anything that might well obstruct the R2's work, offering gentle and lilting Hapan words of encourage. "You've got this..." And indeed, the noise sounds good, something seems to spark a measure of successful beeping from the R2 as Rieve attempts to translate, and admittedly fails completely. But it's hard to think failure with such cheery chirping as he yells out from the panel they've settled before. "Shields?! I think we got shields! Mon brat!" Rieve grins and lightly punches the droid in a most familiar manner.

"Nice work, Judith!" Give Ruphi enough time. If they survived much longer, she might well become a Judy. Maybe a Best Judy. It was something to look forward to. <<"We're still in one piece, Tempest. Shields are holding." Well, until the next barrage came. <<"I'm more worried about you, in that old thing.">> Even at the end of the world, Kael could not escape the gentle ribbing from his Mrs, that humour more than anything revealing the concern Nerys felt, but did not want to voice. Thoughts, though, those were free. They were not supposed to die apart. And so, today was not going to be their day. "Looks like we're getting a good chunk of the civvies clear, but don't stay on our account. If you need to jump, we'll probably be right behind you." Probably. And then, the alarms, and the next onslaughts sending engineers scrambling. Meanwhile, the gunners kept up the barrage, sending focused fire in on the closest Star Destroyer. "All hands, you heard the Admiral, prepare to jump." The drivers were already spun up, needing only Nerys order to send the

<<I have sight on clear space,>> Sesti announces, and with a final barrage from the turrets and fixed cannon, she puts on a burst of speed, urging the transports to follow as they can. <<Iridonia is away>> The transport with the dinged hull taking advantage of the coverage she has provided surges forward and winks out of sight. Sesti holds the Kal just outside of the well, hand on the lever; but she waits to watch the transports, holding her breath as the injured one limps past and jumps, then the next one, and the third, she starts to let out a sigh of relief when the last one, just prior to jumping, is smashed into by a flying chunk of ship that only misses the yacht because Sesti was turning to launch for her jump. <<Force be with you>> she whispers as she turns resolutely and pulls back on the lever, and the next thing she sees are bright lines through the plastidurasteel.

Ghost is behind the combined squadron of bombers following Ektor-Xer, and behind the Ghost, a squadron of wish-bones armed and ready to drop their bombs. <<"Target dead center, EVERYTHING YOU GOT!">> Poe yells, the urgency in his voice apparent as he takes the Ghost through the suicidal approach and fires every weapon the ship has in an effort to destroy the main guns.

For a moment, through the chaos, the Ghost can be seen as a beacon of laser light flashing in every direction, her heavy cannons firing at a cyclic rate as the ship spins slowly to avoid a TIE closing in from its 'front'.

Poe manages to pass over the main guns, slamming the throttle forward with a grunt. The engines roar, planting Poe and Chewie against their seats. The Ghost's engines glow bright as it skims away from the Star Destroyer, hot on Ektor-Xer's/Green Squad's tail. At the mention of Code Krenth, Poe nods.

<<"Time to fight another day, people. Get your vectors and jump now, the fleet can't hold out. All small craft and freighters, form up on the Ghost.. we're jumping out of here!">>

Chewie screams at Poe, rocking in his chair. "WHAAAAAT?!" Poe yells back with just as much enthusiasm.

Kael's leaning forward in his seat having been rocked by another volley from the Ruinednation and he just shakes his head. This time rather than pester the engineering section he just lets them do their jobs, "Fire everything we have at that Star Destroyer she's starting to fall apart." He looks over at Lexxie, "Tell me you've got a hyper jump ready to go. And HiBall get me a lock for another volley of missiles." As the tone comes through Kael's working on adjusting the course of the ship and timing for the missiles before he launches, <"Kima I'm doing fine still. She's holding up better than that Star Destroyer there. But I don't think we should hang out here much longer."> Then he looks back out at the bridge crew, "Power up the tractor beams and be ready to lock onto any disabled civie ships to get them in the hangar and then prep for hyper."

Ektor cackles at the broadcasts, detached from the tragedy and loss surrounding him in the manner known only to survivors of tremendous loss and/or the mentally unstable. Evie's words are answered, <<Girl, I am gonna drink your account DRY. See you on the other side, yeah?>> Veering away from the dying Ruination, the recon bomber flips fire control to nose lasers, and hammers the shields of a TIE, driving it off pursuit of a friendly transport, as the new droid is instructed to run the jump sequence once Ghost and its flock of friendlies are clear. <<And 'Ruination' is a fool ass name for a ship. You Hutt-suckers is the worst with that drek.>> Helpful branding advice from the pirate, in parting.

Music? Music. As B'haav watches the battle fly by the transparisteel view under the expert piloting of an old friend, he does in fact have tunes and uses a focused search of the ship's database to not think about what's happening beyond the shields. "Yes... I have... Symponik..." Steel-grey eyes look over to the Empress of the Void with each entry, awaiting a nod of approval or a dismissal with each. "Uglejig... Flaunt... Socorran Folk... B'ssa nuuvu... Wreckpunk-" A nod gives him his answer, and the Balosar turns up the recording into the cockpit's speakers as deep thrums, metallic bangs and engine revs unite into the accelerating rush of salvaged exultation and resistance.

"I've got the hyperdrive launch controls, Evie," B'haav calls out over the raised Wreckpunk din in the cockpit. "You give the word, and we're on a fast-track to the first establishment I can buy out in your honor." Possibly literally.

<<Stay safe Iridonia.>> Karas says into his comm, smiling that his friend Sesti and those shes getting to safety ok. His sensors beeps at him, getting his attention. Seeing a swarm of TIEs, he sighs and quickly applies power to the engines and takes off towards one of the lead enemy squadrons. Narrowing his eyes a little, the lead TIE comes into range and without blinking Karas pulls the trigger on the joystick letting loose a flurry of shots at that lead TIE and rolling away and getting himself into a better position to either escape or resume attacking.

The extent of the damage to the shields starts out stressful, then Judith nearly panics as the damage doubles, far more life-threatening action than she had ever experienced. Wide-eyed, Ruphi's words being her back into focus, the compliment pushing her to work against all odds, through the sparks and the shakes, the shadows and the sirens. "Right. Thanks." Whether or not it's good work doesn't matter. It just matters if it's enough work. As the ship blasts into hyperspeed, it's decided: that'll do.

Evie's a woman possessed when she's in her zone; it's not something that a ton of people have seen. Juria, sure, her own co-pilot -- hopefully -- safe far away from this battle. But Evie? Aside from her own freighter, tends to fly single-seaters since she left the First Order. When the music starts? She's banging her head to it, letting her hair flail. It doesn't distract her from her work; if anything, she almost seems to be flying a little better, now. There's something to be said for mood music.

<<"I'm holding you to that, Ektor. Come find me. Seriously guys.">> Evie replies, the grin on her face evident on her voice. There's part of her that wants to turn and really get in this fight. Wants to start properly dogfighting and see if she can't turn this battle on its head. But, there's people on the ship she's piloting that are counting on her, one of which being a dear friend. Lust for battle? It loses the fight. There will be other wars. She suspects she might have to strap in for those... which means getting out of this one.

But only on the right beat. Head banging a bit more, waiting until the notes hit that crescendo. Then her fist is thrown into the air. "PUNCH IT!" she barks to B'haav, once she's sure that the exit is secured.

Evie: 2, Those Other Guys: 0

Freedom and Destiny cease communication, caught under the multitudes of cannons aimed towards them. The blisters on the bow of Freedom blowing outward and geysering debris and fire before it is turned by the kinetic impact of the heavy cannons, shoved bodily into the path of Destiny whose shields have collapsed and cannot protect it from the other cruiser. Hull deforms around hull and then Freedom's exploding frame tears apart its fellow.

Home One continues to fire, charging headlong at the lead Star Destroyer, Silivac trying to push through the considerable bulwark of the old cruiser's extensive shield array. <<"Gentles, it's been my honor.">> the MC80 continues to build speed. Its ion cannons ceasing fire, power being diverted to shields and engines. <<"Don't give up.">>

More of the evacuation craft disappear to hyperspace, leaving those less fortunate in their wake. More voices are silenced calling for help. Fighter squadrons begin to peel off, under protest, trying to protect each other and the fleeing transport craft. Rongo erupts in flame and molten durasteel. Wiped out in the midst of a missile volley. Not even a sound of alarm from their comms officer before they're gone.

<<"We're clear, Rogues! Thank you!">> a quartet of transport liners getting clear of the net and jumping before worse can come their way. The ships fleeing Chandrila are nearly all gone when Pantheon stops firing and throws all power to shields and engines, eclipsing retreating craft. The hulking craft soaking fire from turbolasers in time for a full barrage of missiles to stutter explosions over her hull, setting off sympathetic detonations. Ordinance magazines going off, blowing whole sections of the hull clear.

<<"Don't let this be in vain.">> Wedge continues to speak, and the flinch is in his tone when Home One's shields begin to falter, layers peeled away by Silivac, but slower without Ruination to aid her. That second of six Star Destroyers suddenly going silent, starting to drift and then swelling like a great balloon. The bright glow within lighting up along its seems and then it is rendered apart by detonations.

<<"Survive. Fight back.">> Silivac begins to reverse, what cannons that can be brought to bear on the old Rebellion homeship hurling fire into the cruiser, whose engines suddenly blaze and its shields die. All power diverted to thrust. <<"May the Force be with y-">>

Both flagships collide and with the final burst of Home One's engines they start to spin, forcing wounded Tormenor and Witchcraven to bank away, lest they be caught in the death spiral of the other pair. Their fire becoming scattered, inaccurate. When the reactors of both go off it is the birth of a sun that blots put communications for heartbeats, blinds eyes and casts great bergs of hull plating that destroy fighters unable to get clear and shoves a titanic spear of durasteel into Prophet's flank.

Of those remaining it is defiance, battered, burning in places. that is able to get clear with Ruination's split fire taken from her flank. <<"Defiance... Jumping now.">> the last of the fleet angling from the planet, having reached the edges of the planets gravity well. Form elongating with that of smaller craft close by. Escaping to hyperspace.

Crescent Moon had made its way safely to hyperspace along with the few dozen refugees on board. In engineering some of them had wandered inside with a great deal of anxiety to find it was a lone PIT droid keeping the shields up while the ship had been under fire. A droideka and the ship's Houk security guard had stood vigil near the hatch in case of some freakish boarding party while the ship's housekeeper, a Kubaz by the name of Yumhina helped console those that were particularly anxious. Passengers started to tend to themselves and the ones that needed medical attention were slowly starting to receive it from others that knew first aid or had been educated in medicine to some degree.

Up front, Noemie removes her flight helmet and places it on the flight console, unstrapping herself from the seat and placing her hand on Muja's head-dome. "Thank you, Muja fruit. You helped us all get clear." The Naboo's voice is soft and quiet, the adrenaline from her escape starting to wear off and exhaustion set in. Noemie Lenoir places her back to the navigation console and slides down to the floor, letting out a deep breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

The flight console beeps, signaling entry to the Teta system in sixty seconds. "Well. Let me get us on the ground." Getting back in to her seat, she keys for the ship's comm system.

<<"We're clear, if you can't tell, and will be entering the Teta system bound for Empress Teta soon. I'll be bringing us to the Artisans Guild headquarters. Space will be made for each of you and you'll all be welcome to stay as long as it takes for you to get your business settled and find new arrangements elsewhere. My other guild members and I will be happy to help you as we can, so if you need something please reach out. I'll also get in contact with Cinnagar's council and see about getting refugee status for all of you who need it. We'll be on-ground in three.">> She cuts off the transmission, reaches for the hyperspace lever and returns the Crescent Moon to subspace.

"We fight another day." That was Nerys' final word, as the Shortest Greystorm reached out to hit the command to take the Kima to hyperspace. No warning, no chance for the Bloodmoons, she hoped, to target the ship before it could make its escape. "Keep firing! Tempest, you know where we'll be." And the gunners would. Every system online and firing a final salvo towards the still looking Sith fleet. One final rain of defensive fire, before the systems were secured and the Kima slipped out, the sight of dead ships and floating detritus replaced by the cool trails of hyperspace.

Down in engineering, Ruphi took a deep breath, before he joined in the sudden cheer. "We're not dead." pause, "Hey Judy, you want a job?"

Breaking away from the main fight, the Ghost takes the forefront of a slew of starfighters chasing its wake. <<"Stay close.. last jump, maybe FOREVER!">> At the perfect point where a clear jump can be made, Poe ignores the warning of Chewie and takes hold of the throttle controlling their hyperdrive and yanks it back. The sound of the hyperdrive groaning follows as the ship suddenly generates a mass wake, dragging the fighters behind the Ghost with it.

One by one, the ships zip from real space, freighters follow, and in their wake? Destruction and explosions. The hope of the Alliance shattered, its greatest remaining hero, gone.. for a second time. "No, no.. Chewie. Wedge is just being dramatic. He probably got away like last time.. this isn't his first time, I mean. Remember Coruscant?"

Poe pulls back on the lever, bringing them back to real space. Every system on the Ghost was overheated and sparks were blinking off the consoles and random spots within the ship. "Get on the horn with Rose, see where the Resistance ended up. I'm going to go flush the hyperdrive and prep for the next jump."

Poe took his headset off and moved to the back of the ship, his expression neutral and calm; it seemed travesty, hopelessness, and overwhelming odds were the things missing in his life; he was back to his old self again.

Rieve feels a subtle shift beneath his feet and slowly he sinks to the floor of the Ghost, just looking to the R2 unit and exhaling a ragged breath. His once beautiful robes that would have heralded him a Hapan of noble mien are bloodied and torn and little more than scrap fabric. Yet there's a hint of relief as Rieve also realises he can feel or hear the whump whump whump of explosions and ordnance buffeting and shaking the vessel. Cuffing a hand against his right eye, Rieve slowly pushes up and staggers towards the bridge to poke his head about, looking everso slightly the bedraggler straggler. "I realize you've important stuff to do Generale. Everyone is fine, as can be expected... thank you. Both of you. All of you." A respectful nod offered to both Chewbacca and Poe. "And whatever happens..." His voice breaks for an instant, though the warm lilt remains. "I want to fight."

Kael leans forward once more as he watches refusing to let Home One's sacrifice go unwitnessed. Then as it's over he flops back in the seat, "Nobody left for us to save. Gunners one last volley. Lexxie get us out of here." He keys up his comms <"Copy Kima. The Tempest will be right behind you."> as the Tempest Warden's 8 dual turbolasers lance out one last time at the Ruinednation before the ship elongates and then is gone. As soon as the swirls of hyperspace are on the viewscreen is the only time that Kael fully relaxes in his seat. Keying up the intercom, "We're in hyper and safe. Sorry for taking you all into battle but this is a warship and we couldn't let the rest of the civilians go without a screening. Good work crew and refugees on board see Bertrum to get shown where the food, towels and refreshers are. It's going to be a bit of the flight and now that we're out of immediate danger lets see to making it as comfortable as possible."

Karas hears the call, but he doens't really leave yet. Seeing what is happening with Home One, his mouth works but nothing comes out at all, his head shaking from side to side, he watches the destruction. Spark takes control having already got jump coordinates and quickly begins vectoring Valkyrie out of the system quickly. "Why..." he growls more to himself. He grimaces and takes control.

The X-wing quickly begins rolling and moving out of the way of the debris field, they need to get away as quickly as possible so with the S-Foils closing and some tricky piloting, he shakes his head a bit. He didn't have time for this, they needed to make sure the people got away and get a head count and find out what the next moves are. Having seen the sacrifice of Home One, this hit differently. Keeping himself controlled enough to make sure they were clear and then the X-Wing jumps into hyperspace.

Ektor brings his bomber around, guiding it toward the open black as the astromech warbles that Ghost is away, and all transports are either gone or destroyed. Power is shunted from engines and weapons into shields as an unnecessary precaution as his own hyperdrive sequence is initiated. Moments later, the old Y-wing shudders into hyperspace, and the pirate pulls his helmet off, never having bothered with the chinstrap. He draws out a bottle of rum he'd stolen from Poe's bridge earlier and takes a swallow before asking the droid, "Oh yeah.. since we didn't blow up I might as well ask your name." He grimaces at the answer. "No way I'm remembering all that. I'ma call you Boomer.

'PUNCH IT!'

B'haav doesn't have to be told twice, FEELING the timing of the music as it perfectly aligns with the pilot's order. The hyperdrive lever is flung forward, killing the engines and blinking the A.I.A. Transport into hyperspace. B'haav takes a moment to catch up on the breath he'd been holding, and then he looks to the true pilot's seat and claps a hand on the Kuati's shoulder. "Evie, I don't know how you ended up on this ship, but if you are ever looking for a full-time pilot position, I will split my entire business with you..." He takes the hand back and reaches for the intercom button, pausing a moment longer. "We should catch up. Maybe not right now, but... Very soon." Then, the button press.

<<"Everyone, we are clear of Chandrila and in hyperspace. Thanks to our new captain, we will reach Naboo all in one piece. If any of you are doctors, please come fore to the cockpit. Anyone needing medical attention who hasn't received it, same.">> The gravel voice is as warm and reassuring as the speakers will allow. <<"Anyone who cannot be moved, call out and a doctor will find you. I don't know what resources we will have, but I will get you to someplace safe. More to come when we land.">> B'haav looks to Evie again.

"You saved a lot of lives today. Least of all mine. Thank you, and the miracle you flew in on." It's hard to offer a heartfelt thank-you over the sound of clanging metal and screaming engines coming from the speakers, but the Balosar does his best.

One deep breath, and then an even longer sigh, and Judith takes a moment to revel that, yes, life does in fact continue. When the job offer comes her way, she cackles. "That was one heck of an interview!" She turns to the remaining repairs left to be done, adding, "I'll send a bill in the morning." And then she's back into the rough of it, taking care of what she can fix for the rest of the flight to... wherever they're headed. Unknown destination? Just how Judith likes it.

There's a frown that crosses Evie's lips when the Home One makes impact, the friendly reading on her radar screen flickering out without any fanfare. That fist that was in the air lowers, slowly. That's what she calls a loss.

But Evennia does not give up. She will not surrender to grief again, like after Exegol. She had family. She had friends. Most of them would survive this fight, she was sure of it... and her own words at Exegol echo in her ears.

'Leave, live, and find a reason to keep doing so.'

She had her reasons. She knew them well. She took that advice then, she holds onto it now. More and more vessels outside the viewscreen, on her radar, vanishing to safety. These were the victories. Those losses their (she's taken a side, if only by force) side has taken... that's what it was all for. So that those lives could be saved. Some of them would probably be the Generals of tomorrow.

B'Haav pulls that lever, and the bright lights of stars in the distance stretch into streaks. Hyperspace is a familiar sight, and a very welcome one. The pull is familiar, too -- and once her body adjusts to be able to move freely once again? B'Haav is getting a hug. She might be in armor, but she's not the strongest, so it's not bone-crushing at least!

"...and you saved mine, pal. We've got a lot of catching up to do, for sure..." Evie pauses, closing her eyes. "...and a crazy next chapter to get ready for."