Log:Sith Empire: Thyferra: Liberty's Foothold, Part 1
A Sith team moved to capture a key strategic target. Resistance might be futile, but it's still resistance.
OOC Date: June 10, 2022
Location: Thyferra
Participants: Caius Sentari, Grafn Struss, Imani, Kol Goren as GM, Tamsin Cas, Sith Empire
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
Less than an hour ago began the attack on one of the key strategic starports on the surface of Thyferra. The attack began with a horde of Sith fighters descending from the stars above to begin attack runs on the starport. When the starport's defenders began to spew from the surface in defense of their treasure, the aerial battle had gradually strayed further and further away from the starport. That had been a strategic decision of the Sith Empire, obviously. It wasn't by chance that the battle began to stray and coincidentally approached closer and closer to a major population center some miles away.
Landing barges delivered walkers and other heavy equipment to the theater. Troop transports ferried troops to the surface from orbit and upon touching down on Thyferra's surface they began to spew stormtroopers and other personnel from their innards. The attack is well underway by the time a lone Sentinel-class landing craft ferrying a special - and specialized - cargo began to make its own approach on the complex that is the starport.
The shuttle descends through cloud cover, revealing before and beneath it the open terrain of the starport and the considerably less open terrain that is the jungle which surrounds it. From this vantage point multiple narrow roadways can be seen stretching out from the starport, snaking from the cleared expanse of the starport and into various parts of the local region, over and through the terrain. In the distance the lights of a city can be seen, but the combination of a picket force established to ward off potential reinforcements and something so simple as distance creates less tactical urgency in regard to local population center and starport are concerned.
Below the light show of battle can be seen. Lances of energy flash one direction and another, back and forth. A deadly exchange of energy beams had began an hour ago when the morning was deeper into the darkness of night, but after that hour the teasing gloom of false dawn begins to creep at the horizon.
The Sentinel-class carrying the cargo of Councilors, Mark, and even a handful of mercenaries. While the walkers continued their approach to the metaphorical heart of the starport. Troopers on the ground scurry across open terrain, into or out of cover, and at one point even utilize the massive carcass of a burnt out Sith walker as makeshift battlefield cover. At such a low altitude, one can almost fool themselves into believing that they can hear the roar of the battle unfolding outside the hull of the landing craft.
The Sentinel landing craft shakes and rocks as air defenses begin to target its trajectory. The shaking and rocking was, of course, in part on account of the rapid descent and approach itself. The air defenses certainly aren't helping matters as the spacecraft shudders under another near miss. Whether through bravery or recklessness, the pair of Sith Empire pilots manning the flight controls of the Sentinel press onward and into the face of danger. The co-pilot shifts a hand up to flick a switch, at which point his voice can be heard smooth-and-calm within the troop compartment, "We're on final approach. Twenty seconds to arrival," the co-pilot estimates. Now seems ideal to make certain that weapons are loaded and armor's fit snug.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The Councilor, familiar in their armor, who had been present for most of the key operations on Thyferra waited at the rear of the transport, a hand touching the belt secured around their armor. It was sleek, but did not appear, by looking at it, terribly useful. But surely it was, or else it would not be worn. Their helmet canted up, at the announcement that they were imminently on arrival, and the figure moved to be close to the point of egress.
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
Grafn might well seem a trifle old, though even despite his advancing years and wild appearance, the old pilot checks his armour over one final time, while casting a glance towards the cockpit. "They're doing a damned good job." The very words uttered in a rich and way too loud baritone of Coruscanti lineage, perhaps a trifle louder than needed to account for the battle raging beyond. "Damned good!" He nods, shaking his wild array of grey hair, shifting and swaying with every buffet and shake of the vessel as might a ship captain at sea. Readying his weapon, checking it over once and then twice, Grafn Struss nods one final time to each of those present to signal his readiness. "Not that we need it, but good luck all." A toothsome smile is briefly flashed, and the old former Imperial makes ready to move.
[ Imani (I)]
Imani's business in the Sith has been less visible in the last few months, but at least for now she's back from what she's been doing and present enough to be able to assist with the very exciting seizing of the starport. She is strapped in, armor on, an assortment of weapons strapped to her body. "This is a rocky ride," she says, words carried out through the vocoder in her helmet. "If we all blow up, just know it's been a pleasure working with you. Some of you. I don't know all of you. If we survive, hi, we can be introduced later."
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
As if to make up for the lack of a Xavier, Caius is puffing on a cigarette way at the front of the transport, attempting to bum looks into the cockpit from where he is. "Wish we could commandeer one of those walkers." A man can dream, as he turns away and reclines on his seat, eyeing Imani. "Oh we'll /thrive/, ma'am. Nothing stands in the way of th' Empire and doesn't get obliterated in some fashion. Plus we have /two/ councillors...yeup, this day is already ours. Blips just don't know it yet."
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
The Sentinel landing craft begins to bank, preparing for its turn and descent to landing on the rooftop adjacent to the primary air control tower and attached bunker, of the starport facility. Those who steal a glimpse through the cockpit's forward viewport from the troop compartment can see the world whirl around the ship as the ship's pilot masterfully swings it around. Presenting its backside to the control tower as it begins to slow and descend backward into a landing.
Unfortunately that landing never comes. The ship is suddenly rocked, followed by the sound of an explosion on the exterior of the ship. The interior of the landing craft rumbles and quakes, the sound of durasteel cracking and splitting the preamble to a distinct boom. Then comes the tell-tale cascading whine of a failed repulsorlift as the Sentinel-class landing craft begins to slew hard to the right. Over and over and over the craft spins. The co-pilot can be heard shouting out, "Brace! Brace for impact!"
The craft continues to spin for whatever feels like at least a minute. On account of how adrenaline works however, it's little more than two or three seconds before the landing craft smashes into the ground. Cargo, human and material alike, is thrown about. Thankfully the rapid, whirling descent hadn't been from a great altitude.
From the cockpit the pilot speaks this time, his voice hardly worried despite the crash, "Everyone out. We've landing on the tarmac and not the rooftop. Expect to be engaged the moment we get out of this box. We're in the thick of the fighting now, not above it as we'd planned."
The pilot himself is already extracting himself from the cockpit, grabbing up a blaster carbine from a rack in the cockpit as he goes. The curious may note the reason that the co-pilot did not relay that information is on account of his being heroically killed in action. He rests immobile in the co-pilot and sensor officer's chair, his head lulled back and aside.
The pilot pulls himself free of the cockpit, squeezing through the twisted corridor on account of it being bent and rent by the crash. As he moves he calls out, "This isn't an assault on the control tower anymore. Right now we have to hold out or break through. We're surrounded," he explains with an almost unnatural calmness to him.
He begins to move, motioning to one of the emergency hatches that would allow for the troops within the transport to escape it. Within the troop and cargo compartment itself a few casualties reside. Valuable assets in the form of Mark, even a mercenary or two, have been thrown against the bulkheads and are likewise added to the tally of losses for this particular conquest.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The Councilor appeared the weather the crash landing better than some. At the least, they did not end up one of the casualties on the deck. They did, however, take a moment to get their bearings before they exited the craft, a light hop bringing them down to the ground, before their saber ignited and they charged into the fray. The best defense was a good...oh, who were they kidding. It was all offense, as the Sith waded into the gathering storm of troopers, cutting two down like clockwork, before a third swing pushed back some of the attackers, as if the Sith were trying to make room for the rest of the team to exit in relative safety. Such as it was,
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
Brace! Brace! Those words are words that Grafn has spoken on a few occasions, and to hear them now gives him cause to arch a brow and glance towards the pilots as he holds on for dear life. He seems oddly at ease too, mostly due to the calmness of the pilot and their earlier skillful piloting. If he dies? He dies. If he lives? Well onwards to the next possible death. As the ship slams into the ground with a bone-shaking crunch and skid, Grafn winces and lets slip a faint grunt as the air is forced from his lungs, the aged pilot tossed against a few other mercs. And he's alive! And slowly picking himself up.
"Hah! Everyone... mostly everyone alright? Up and at them! No quarter!" That Coruscanti rumble blaring forth as he moves to follow Tamsin, readying his weapon, and stepping on out, to witness Tamsin take down two of the approaching Stormtroopers. "Hah! Follow the Councillor!" As if anyone needed any such command from some wild-haired morally bankrupt merc. Out onto the field he steps, Grafn's weapon firing off two shots, one slamming into a Stormtrooper, while the other goes wild after a slight stumble on some debris.
[ Imani (I)]
Imani isn't sure their exact altitude when the ship is initially hit, bracing for impact all the same, and is relieved when they don't end up a charred smear on the side of a building, or in a crater formed by their falling ship. The sharp jostle is felt right down to her bones, and so it takes her a handful of seconds to orient herself before she unfastens the straps that prevented her from being tossed around the ship like a ragdoll, then gets to her feet. Rather than a ranged weapon, which she appears to have none of, she pulls loose the chain whip, snapping it into sword position and getting ready for incoming targets.
Deep breath, deep breath, relax, and then move. She is fast, and practiced at war by now, rushing out of the wreckage just enough thrust the point of her weapon through the weak spot on the armor of one trooper, then draws back enough and swings it around to absolutely bash the bejesus out of the helmet on another.
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
Caius is rocked forward in his seat as the craft crashed. Good thing the numbskull was strapped in, unhelmeted as he is. Bad thing is, his cigarette flew off in the interim, and now he's pissed. "Frakkit.", he mutters as he unstraps, helmets and arms himself in short order, stock unfolded and all as he moves up with Imani at Grafn's insistence.
<I'll cover Lady Imani, you watch... uh, the Councillor's six.">, he voxes out, letting two shots fly off in his exit and downing a trooper in the process.
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
One would rarely expect to find themselves the victim of an assault with the source of that assault originating from the troop compartment of a down landing craft. Therefore when the emergency hatch bursts open and out streams a raiding party, lead by the brilliant glow of red from the lightsaber of the Councilor's of the Sith Empire? The stormtroopers hesitate for only a moment. Then they surge into action, as they were trained to do from a very young age. The First Order stormtroopers begin to move, shifting and adjusting their own approach and makeshift battle lines as the assault commences. When two of their number of slain at the hands of the masked Councilor, the others begin to train their blaster rifles on the robed figure. Training took over when they saw one of the Jedi-adjacent-persons on the field and soon they intend to bring massed fire to bear and overwhelm the defenses of the Force-infected individual.
Unfortunately for them that Force-infected individual is supported by all manner of death-dealers spewing from the innards of the landing craft. Soon a chain-whip enters the fray, along with some massed fire from the mercenaries which had survived the sudden descent. Blaster fire is exchanged in yet another microcosm of the overall battle as the assault-turned-defense-turned-different-assault becomes a battle within a larger battle.
Stormtroopers scream out as their armor is melted by blaster bolts, searing and sizzling flesh beneath. Those that don't scream in pain after being sliced, stabbed, or blasted; they turn their full attention not to retribution, but the completion of a goal. Which incidentally would deliver unto them some measure of retribution.
The gloomy pre-dawn air around the Sentinel-class landing craft is already bathed in the red glow of a lightsaber, only for it to be punctuated by beams of green, blue, yellow, and red as blaster fire is wildly exchanged. Perhaps it is on account of the shock at the onslaught presented by the masked and robed Councilor, but their aim is certainly not true this morning.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
"We need to move towards the objective!" There was a brief glance back at the grizzled old mercenary, "Stay behind me." The Councilor adjusted their path of movement to ensure that they would be between any incoming blaster fire and the old imperial pilot. That did not, however, stop their attack, as the pressed one, seeming to select out the most capable of the troopers first, one with higher marked rank insignia and then a grunt. Perhaps in the end it was all the same to the saber, which hunted and snarled as its wielder sought out their targets. The choices were likely as much to lessen the threat a demoralize the troops. "The air wing's screen will not last forever."
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
Grafn is momentarily thrown off his charge as a blaster bolt slams into his left arm, swinging him about a bit, though, even so he presses forward with the scent of melted armour and mild Coruscanti BBQ following in his wake. The old pilot isn't deterred! He treads forward and continues to fire neatly into the approaching Stormtroopers, finishing off the one he shot first, and then sending a bolt winging its way past another! "Absolutely Councillor!" Grafn responds as he follows Tamsin. "I've got your back!" Heavy footfalls tromping the scarred ground, bushy brows arched as he picks his next target.
[ Imani (I)]
"Thank you but I'm not a Lady," Imani insists for what is at least the second time to Caius, and then charges onward. She's moving quickly enough that one shot taken at her entirely, but the other scars the ground right beside one foot. "AH!" the exclamation is more sound than word, and then she barks out a laugh. "Almost. Almost!" But just not quite. Even through the helmet, there's a sort of unbridled joy in these dangerous and deadly acts that would probably make normal people decide she's unhinged, but thankfully everyone not on their side is quickly dying so there's no witnesses to it. Her legs are long, and her stride matches as she moves behind and to the side of Tamsin, far enough back to not get chopped with the glowing blade as she swings her own less luminescent weapon to kill one, and then another trooper, barely allowing each falling body to slow her down. They're on a mission and she's damn determined.
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
<"Right, on your six.">, Caius responds to the hooded and masked councillor who isn't Tamsin, backpedalling a few paces as he lets loose another two-shot burst at the attacking bucketheads, downing at least one. <"Alright, ma'am. It's time for us to leave, though.">, the cop tells the manic Imani, no doubt just as amused underneath that helmet (though not more, because who can beat that kind of bloodlust?), following through just behind her and to her flank as she moves up, carbine at rest.
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
Around the Sentinel-class landing craft's wreckage the battle continues to unfold. More are cut down through the expert swordsmanship of one of the Councilor's of the Sith Empire. More are shot down by the expert - or wild - marksmanship of the Sith Empire and its mercenaries. Then another figure weaves through the fighting, delivering blows from an electro whip and likewise systematically ending lives. All while the First Order troopers continue to dump scarlet blaster fire into their attackers.
The First Order's troopers on Thyferra are having a lot of trouble bracketing their targets. Whether on account of their faulty training or perhaps they're little more than imposters. It's difficult to tell without a thorough investigation. Ultimately their aim is poor and their hatred for the Sentinel-class landing craft is made abundantly apparent judging by the blaster scoring decorating what bit of its hull isn't already crumpled and scorched by the crash.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The incoming Sith force moved through the defending troopers like a red wave, leaving bodies and too many invoiced regrets in their wake. Such was the way. As the battlefield lessened, and the last of the first rush of defenders lessened, the Councilor continued the press, cutting down one, with a forward sweep of their blade and another with the flip back, before the swung wide at a third. That was well. There would be other attackers to clear the field, and the goal was in sight.
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
And so it is, one shot from Grafn's weapon slams into a Stormtrooper, but doesn't down him, the other pinging off armour as Grafn fires on the move. Pressing forward with Tamsin leading the charge, and though his gaze is firmly fixed upon the numerous enemy, the old pilot can't help but be slightly awed by the manner in which the Councillor dispatches these poor unfortunates. Grafn's silvery hair occasionally reflecting the red glow of blaster fire and lightsaber alike.
[ Imani (I)]
On her six. Imani turns her head just enough to register a presence in the peripheral and then focuses ahead to the remaining troopers that are still here. "They're brave, I'll grant 'em that much!" she says with an infectious cheer as she charges in, ducking low at the last moment to drive the tip of her weapon upward through a weak point into the armor. It is violent, and bloody, and she rises in order to kick the trooper back and free him from the weapon. It's all done with an alarming familiarity of someone who has kicked bodies off her weapon before. A second gets bashed, and then she turns to book it for their intended destination.
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
<"Uh-huh.">, comes the drier reply from Caius. He almost looked like he very lazily lifted his carbine to casually two-shot that remaining private off to the side, both bolts hitting true - but all done with the strictest of military precision, Caius will assure. <"...too bad their conditioning makes it impossible for 'em to see who the winnin' side is.">, the man follows up with a distinct disappointment in his tone as he continues striding along on Imani's flank.
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
The last of the First Order troopers falls, despite their most valiant effort to defend their assignment. As the last of them is gunned down by Caius Sentari; the retinue of Sith Empire Councilors, Mark, and mercenaries continues across the landing field. Periodically a blaster bolt flashes over their heads, destined for one side or another.
The stroll is leisurely, all battlefield things considered. That is until the bunker's blast doors begin to open. At least the one manning the controls for the blast doors seems to have some measure of smarts. The doors aren't opened fully. The thick doors open wide enough to permit more First Order troopers to spill from the innards of the bunker. The defensive screen of troopers in place, the heavy blaster doors begin to draw closed again until they clang heavily together.
Even before they've assumed a defensive position, the stormtroopers begin to spread out and pour fire into the oncoming Sith forces.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
Had the Councilor not been wearing there helmet, there might have been the possibility of hearing that inhale of breath, something between disappointment and resignation, as the blast doors opened, and more troopers poured out. But, whatever the Councilor felt was not reflected in their movements, as she seemed to dart between the blaster bolts, moving to engage the troopers. A better quality, this time, clearly, as only one fell to their blade. But it put them one step closer to those doors.
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
Having taken two more shots, Grafn staggers a little uncertainly and looks momentarily dazed as he stumbles towards those at the bunker. The old pilot fires off a single shot into the gathered throng of defenders, and then fires wildly with the second. Even as he fires that second shot, his hand presses to his side, the armour melted and beneath is burnt. "Hah..." Though the bravado is a touch weak as he hisses softly, spit flecking his lips as he advances even still. <"Do not stop, no matter what... make sure of that! Do not let the Empire hold this facility!"> His voice rumbles over the comms. Shaky. Pained.
[ Imani (I)]
Imani follows on the proverbial footsteps of Tamsin into the building, eyes narrowing unseen as the blast doors open to allow more targets to slip out. "All the same armor makes them seem a little like bugs. You know? All the same carapaces on the skittering things." Her head shakes ever so slightly, but there is more work to do, and so again she sets forth. It's much like before, she's fast, an up in your face to kill sort of lady, and she does it with a brutal efficiency of a trained professional.
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
The stormtroopers are cut down and shot down, they seem to handle that fact with aplomb. While some are busy dying, others are busy fighting. Blaster fire from some strikes the older, thicker form of Grafn Struss and send him to an injured, unconscious state. Blaster fire from other stormtroopers slashes the air and sizzles the atmosphere in the immediate vicinity. Some of those shots are accurate, others are not. Meanwhile the war which the Sith Empire's forces wage is far more deadly and precise.
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
<"Something to be said of drapin' yourselves in th' same colours. Promotes uniformity. An' strength in unity...">, Caius idly chatters as he follows along behind Imani, blaster trained and sweeping left and right as he enters. And he finds a buckethead to shoot, innumerable bugs that they are, two-shotting another in the torso and dropping them before he takes a bolt to the arm. <"Grahh.">, Caius complains as sparks fly, his rather sizeable pauldron taking likely half the impact of it. He returns to stance with a second delay.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
The Councilor, who had been pressing the charge, made what appeared to be an abrupt about face, as the fire continued, the crimson blade of their saber snapping out of existence, the hilt tucked away, as they moved to cover the member of the team they had felt fall, positioning themselves so that anyone attempting to shoot at the downed pilot would need to go through them. But they showed no concern in that regard, as they simply began the work, retrieving medical supplies from this hidden pocket and that, working with the ease of long practice to provide what battlefield healing was possible under the circumstances. "I have it under control. Continue the advance towards the doors."
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
Grafn's eyes blink open and he jolts as he takes that first deep and delightfully confused breath of ozone scorched air. Those old eyes of his gaze up at Tamsin as he catches her patching up the various holes that adorn his blaster riddled armour. A grunt, a feverish twist and Grafn seeks to rise with Tamsin's assistance, snatching his rifle along the way. "My apologies! But also my deepest thanks!" He utters richly as he swings his rifle to bear with such aplomb! And suqeezes the trigger with such pain and painkilled infused confidence! The shot goes wide and bounces off the building. But it was made with such confidence all the same! "Onwards, know that should I falter again, name a city after me... or a destroyer... something large and mighty! And never stop pressing onward!" He grins, pale and looking a little feverish, but he grins all the same.
[ Imani (I)]
"Makes it easy to know who to aim at," Imani replies cheerfully, only sounding a little bit out of breath with all of this. But this is what she does, and there are many hours spent training for exactly this sort of situation. She jukes to the side to try and avoid a rifle shot trained on her, and then she slams into stormtrooper. WHAM. It is definitely going to leave a mark on her later, but that's a problem for, you know, later. For now it's back with the slashing and stabbing, knowing all too well the weak points in the armor that she once stood beside.
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
The stormtroopers continue to fall. While they make a little progress in defending the blast doors, still more fall. Even when one of the attackers in the form of Grafn Struss falls? He's soon back up and pressing forward through some mystical nightmare magic of the lightsaber wielding Councilor.
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
<"Your Empire needs you! Troopers, blast 'em!">, Caius whoops around at the surrounding mass of Sith Troopers, manic-made-maniac by the adrenalin coursing through him by virtue of the blaster bolt he took to the arm. Terribly excited, he missed one of the shots from his two-shot burst - though he aimed at the one Grafn injured, and puts them down for good. <"Tha's the spirit old man, get up! We're almost there! Ahaha."> Sweeping around to cover Imani's other flank, he chirps out, <"Not too many of 'em left. I'm poutin' right now, but you ain' see it. Don' tell nobody.">, he voxes to her as he trains his barrel around towards the remaining troopers.
[ Tamsin Cas (Cas)]
With the old pilot back on his feet and determined to move forward, the gave him a nod, before that faceless helmet turning, even as their body did, the saber hilt snapping back into their hand as they rose to their feet. The bolts aimed in their direction winged away, as the Councilor moved with precision, movements born of both that well harnessed rage and long practice, as two of the three who remained fell to their blade, their bodies kicked aside to clear the blast doors.
[ Grafn Struss (Grafn)]
And so Grafn fired off two more shots, providing valiant covering fire for the approaching Sith. Those wildly fired bolts hammer above the heads of the Stormtroopers, giving them cause to thank whatever good fortune they believe they had, that Grafn appears to have been trained by the same people as their forebears. <"Almost there! Hah... as if I'd falter this close to the objective..."> His breathless words as ever a rumble as he squeezes off those wildly inaccurate shots.
[ Imani (I)]
And the violence continues. By the end of this, Imani is really going to have to put her armor through the wash. Even with the dark hue of the armor, it's got more than a little blood splatter on it. With another two down, and no more obvious targets, she comes to a momentary stop to look around. "So," there's a little huff and puff of breath. "What now?"
[ Caius Sentari (Cai)]
Caius lets his carbine drop into rest as the last sergeant falls, grunting. <"No more blips fer me.">, he complains with a light tone as he strides on over towards the blast doors and peers upwards at it. <"Frakkin' thing's sealed shut is what.">, Caius complains again, tapping at the door with the plastisteel toe of his boot, even. <"Gunna need a tank to get thru this. There's an incentive for ya to keep on, Struss!">, he quips as he swivels about to Tamsin. <"What's th' call, Councillor?">
[ Kol Goren (KO)]
The last of the stormtroopers falls in the defense of the blastdoors at the hands of Imani. While the battle continues to rage both near and far, the thunderous plodding of walkers on the move seems to punctuate the sounds of exchanged blaster fire. While it's entirely possible to summon a Sith walker over to make light work of the blast doors, it's ultimately outside the mission goals. Such a breach could potentially create a great deal more damage than is considered acceptable within mission parameters.
The amount of panic behind those blast doors soon begins to increase as the doors themselves begin to glow a molten orange and white. The lightsaber gripped in the hands of the masked and robed Councilor begins to erode the structural integrity of those blast doors. A few minutes more and the lightsaber will have breached the security afforded by the immense durasteel doors.
Meanwhile the other members of the team spread out, assuming their own defensive positions among First Order trooper bodies in preparation to defend their foothold on the blast doors, if necessary.
