Log:Thyferra: Crescendo

Thyferra: Crescendo

OOC Date: September 6, 2022
Location: Thyferra
Participants: New Republic: Bors Thul, Ulani Kalgaav, Ejnar Celchu, Tallie Lintra and Jax Greystorm; Sith Empire: Darth Ferren

Thyferra, the source of the almost magical material known as bacta, has itself been inflicted with wounds too deep to be healed by the application of a simple salve. The war that has raged both over, on, and under the planet has dragged on for weeks, claiming structures, resources, and lives that most locals agree were all gone too soon.

After the assassination of a Sith Empire admiral, the tempo picked back up as additional Bloodmoon star destroyers were summoned from their locations above the few worlds now held in Sith control and redeployed here. The New Republic, First Order, and local defense forces have done their best to match the escalation, and now the fighting has come to a head; one side must break.

The Sith destroyers hove through space above Thyferra in a dense wedge, hemmed about by the slow-moving capital-class craft from the Galactic Alliance, smaller vessels but more plentiful in the balance. The staring match ended, TIE fighters now begin to hurl from the bellies of the Sith ships, rocketing out into space like a swarm about a hive.

<<"Aldera Lead, flight elements, we've but a quarter our number. Two you're behind Six and I. Six we're in reverse chevron, flak spacing. Watch eachother's backs, listen for BIDs">> Blue (Friendly) in Danger, <<"Sing out if you're maneuvering to assist or need aid.">> the azure and silver E-Wing that was Aldera Leader was holding formation, keeping pace with the slower T-85 that is Ulani's craft while looking across the distance through cockpit canopy towards Ejnar in Six. Too bad fewer came. Especially considering the weight of craft leveraged against Republic forces.

<<"New Republic forces, Flight Elements of the Royal Alderaanian Fighter-Corps has joined, call upon us as needed.">> a hand unconsciously grazes the throttle lever, where it rests too far below the etched in mark enameled '11' at the top of the lever slot. A shame really.

The same hand lifts to touch a small pendent that is tucked within his flight suit, "Mother guide my hand and give me the strength to do evil, that others need not. Prick my heart with remorse that my hand become further stained with blood. So others hands remain clean. Father grant me the force of will to accept that my sins absolve the innocent from such commitments. Hold me with both thy hands and set me loose to protect those who cannot protect themselves." the neck of his flightsuit is zipped up, snaps closed and his visor is pulled down. Bors's expression ever a grin, if a little melancholic for the circumstance.

Aldera Two joins the gathered fighters who have come to answer the escalation of the Sith Empire. The smaller pilot inside is steeling her nerves as she goes through the protocols one more time. Checking her systems, her fuel, her radar, her sensors. Hands gripping the yoke just a little tighter than usual. <<"Copy, Leader.">> She caught most of what was being said over the transmission while unable to stop herself from looking at the formidable fleet in the distance.

Ulani draws in a breath and lets it out again: a move that doesn't go unnoticed by her droid. A series of beeps and boops later, Ulani gives a slight nod of her head. "A little, but it'll be okay. It's like Corellia." Except she hadn't ben there for the space battle for Corellia. Hoo boy.

Moving into position as ordered was another E-Wing behind Aldera Leader sprawled in the same colors as the leading ship. <<"Six copies...">> Came a less regal voice. Ejnar searches the horizon, looking over the TIEs pouring from the Sith vessels. "This ought to be fun, Aye Five-Tee?" THe Alderaanian is speaking to the droid that sits in their socket just behind the cockpit. The droid whistles and Ejnar chuckles, scanning through the sensor readouts. He takes a few breaths.

A grey A-Wing races across the backdrop of the planet's verdant green surface, humming steadily through space on the end of the Galactic Alliance cluster. A blonde haired woman is in the cockpit behind a curved glass barrier, her helmet secure and visor down. She seems to be punching a few buttons on the command console, face wary but controlled in the face of multiple Sith ships moving threateningly over Thyferra.

Speaking calmly into the comms, she states for all, "Commander Lintra, present and accounted for." She taps the translucent cockpit canopy once with a flick of thumb and forefinger as if for luck. Around her neck is her father's scarf, just above her telltale Rogue Squadron flight suit.

A group of civilian transports were being escorted out of the area of engagement by motley crew of star fighters. They freighters and all the fighters but one jump to lightspeed as the wedge of Sith Star Destroyers move into formation.

Jax makes a few adjustments on the sensors of the Storm Raven as his R2 unit pipes up. The Corellian responds, "Nope, sorry Exine. I got a bad feeling and think we should be hanging around." The old X-wing turns much sharper than it really had a right too. He accelerates toward the rally point that seems that the New Republic and it's allies are forming up on. He thumbs open a com unit, "This is Greystorm in the Storm Raven. Looks like you might need some help."

Any strategist will agree that the capital ships are everything in a space engagement; any tactician will agree that the fighters are everything.

As the capital class craft begin their slow war-waltz, the fighters hurtle towards each other at breakneck speed for a spot of breakdancing. TIE Daggers, the Sith Empire's distinctive iteration on the classic, howl through space with the same old sound trailing behind the new wing shape. From the bridge on the lead destroyer, a tall man dressed in black watches through the viewport as the battle takes shape, a long black cape hanging to the floor behind him. "You can almost see them from here," he remarks in a low voice to the nearest officer manning one of the terminals. "I'm coming around to the idea of resolving our conflicts from such a great remove. Perhaps the fate of the galaxy should always hang on who pushes the best buttons."

Head canting to the call ins, looking to one side and then the other, Bors frowns slightly, thoughtfully, <<"Aldera Lead copies. Sensors showing elements breaking off.">> Twisting his flight stick and dropping his foot onto a pedal to swing the ethereal rudder and firing his maneuvering thrusters at the same time. It's a dizzying helix spiral.

<<"Lead, squadron.">> cannons speak, spewing staccato lines of coherent light into the void between. Shields glow, ripples of cerulean energy forming before gaps begin to form where power is drained to shore up impact points before they give way entirely. <<"Splash one.">> the TIE Dagger coming apart, solar wing mounts deforming, melting and ripping free under fire and then the ball hull going up, spewing debris in all directions.

<<"They're going to be upset about that.">>

It's space. She can't physically /hear/ the scream of the approaching TIE fighters, but her brain easily fills in that awful sound. Thanks, brain. "Well, here we go," she sighs with trepidation in that soft, posh Kuati accent. Unlike many of her ilk -- those dashing and daring pilots a'plenty -- Ulani has yet to develop a passionate streak for dogfighting. Oh, she's plenty dedicated to the artform and to the cause she has taken up, but unlike the many who have tutored her over the past year, she doesn't feel that same bite of excitement.

Is it any wonder, then, that when they all race forward, her trigger finger isn't as quick at the others? She's on target, mind. It's just that her target is very, very fast. <<"Aldera Two, going after the leader's wingman,">> she announces to the others fighting for the Thyferran Resistance. <<"But I don't mind sharing.">>

As they turned into the flight of Daggers, Ejnar switch his shields to double front. The merge was imminent and as the others called out their targets Ejnar cycled through to his own. <<"Six on Aleph Three."> He pushes the throttle forward, the red hue of his twin engines under the sloped wings increasing brightly as he rockets ahead further than Ulani behind him. He swoops out wide, before coming in on his targeted Dagger at an angle to avoid any typical merge fire.

His Linked canons scream, three thick bolts of scarlet death. One hits and tares like a wild animal at the advanced Sith fighter's shields. <<"Positive contact... coming around.">> Quickly he evens out his shields once more and looks about with his visial scanning.

Tallie Lintra pushes against the A-Wing's throttle, punching a few more dials on the bomber before pulling the nose tip up. "Here we go," she remarks, the dark vastness of space spreading out before her in either direction save for the Sith combatants. Those were easy to spot in formation. Her eyes narrow on approach, locking in on one of the Alephs before noting it on the readout.

She locks in, trigger finger hitting the release of one of the two laser canons. The shots fly wild, missing the target TIE fighter. Cursing under her breath, she pulls the ship around for another angled approach and a rescan of the nearby area.

AS it turns into a bit of a brawl, Exine brings up the sensor data of Aleph 5. Jax adjusts the power flow of his guns and his shields. Then he pulls on the trigger and two of his laser canons contact with the Tie Dagger on the first joust stripping shields off the Sith Craft. Then with a bit tight turn Jax disengages as the tie craft misses him. "Probably need to find somebody I know before I get shot in the back to watch my Six. Exine, see if you know any of these IFFs. We got any friends out here?"

As the capital ships begin to rotate in space to give each other broadsides, moving along in the pondering way that they do, turbolaser batteries unleashing fusillades upon each other as they crawl along.

Much more dynamic, the first of the TIE Dagger squads zoom in like wasps. A splash of blue and then fire goes up from the leader as they find themselves on the wrong end of Bors' heavy cannons, but then the twin blasters mounted at the tip of those triangular, red-chased wings answer back from the rest of the squad, peppering Ejnar's E-wing and sending up flashing lights on his instrument panels.

Ulani is just barely spared, while Tallie's A-wing maneuvers with a speed and precision that the opposing Dagger's pilot finds hard to match.

<<"Storm Raven, Commander Lintra; form up with Aldera Elements. Pick a wing and we'll give you a home.">> Bors turns in his seat to see the other fighters shriek past, <<"Mamma's Boy, I'm inbound, get your shields up.">> engines cut to soar on inertia, and throwing port aft and starboard fore lateral thrusters to full power, kicking him into a spin that forces It to temporarily maximize his dampeners to keep him from blacking out.

Because he may be flying an E-Wing now... But A-Wing pilots are nuts.

"We were baptized by fire in the battle of Teral Wood, and we fought our Delayan Siblings in the wind, the snow and sun. And when our time was over, I heard the Princess say; keep fightin' for the Kingdom, for just another day." teeth baring when his targeting indicator goes green and a hurricane of laser fire erupts, angling fr the nimbly moving TIE craft. Finding now purchase on hull or shield, but forcing its movements into a kill-box.

"So we joined the Lion of Syrush, Ser Lars his name, and we marched once more toward battle, the Loyal of Alderaan." Unable to resist the urge to sing to himself, keeping his timing. Feeling the dampener settings dropping back down again, his engines cut back in and Aldera Lead's direction changes fully one hundred and eighty degrees, in terms of movement. Throttle lever to maximum.

Ulani had asked Aleph 2 to dance, but wouldn't you know it? No one taught that pilot a little thing called courtesy. One is supposed to allow that whom requested the dance to lead. Yet here comes ol' Aleph 2-Left-Feet stampeding onto the dance floor like a drunken Wookiee. Full-cannons firing right at her, Ulani barely manages to bank and roll out of the way. Rinky Dink screeeeeeeeams behind her. "So dramatic, Rinky!"

No time for that. Ejnar is nearly blown to bits by the fearsome TIE fighter, and Ulani is quick behind Bors to race over. <<"Hang in there, Six! We got you!">> If nothing else, they can try to pull that fighter off of him.

So busy, this TIE fighter is, in avoiding Bors' oncoming fire that they swing right into Ulani's range. Three of the four cannons hit and the TIE is left so much scrap in the void. <<"Two, splash one. You doing okay, Six?">> She tucks in a tight turn and heads back into the fray.

There is a thunderous crash and violent shaking just after Ejnar catches sight of the Dagger in front of him gain a space behind him. He attempts to correct but he's too slow. The two heavy Canons smashing away his shields and reach some of his hull. It was totally going to leave a scratch and that pissed off Lord Celchu more than getting shot. Five-Tee whines and sparks fly. Alarms go off and Ejnar peels away. He could curse but that wouldn't help, it never did in the past. "Calm down..." He says to his droid, "And fix the shields."

Thankfully comms were still up and running, for now. <<"This is Six, shields are out. Got rocked pretty hard. I'm working on it.">> It's a skill in and of its self to keep battlefield awareness while waiting for your droid to get you some semblance of protection back.

The droid is having a heck of a time. <<"Eh... Five Tee is having trouble. Let me run a diagnostic...">> Ejnar cycles through some of his onboard computer menu, looking for the diagnostic tools that might help him and his droid. "Should really have that memory wipe done." Five-tee protests.

"You do, Dead Eye," Tallie's voice buzzes over the comms, more granular than she would be in person. "Need any specific assistance?" Bands of white light canvas Tallie's cockpit canopy, her face interspersed between them as she comes in fast on the TIE fighter formation. She banks a hard left, one wingtip up at a 90 degree angle, then pulls a similarly rough right.

Getting back on the comms after missing another TIE fighter, she checks left and nods when Bors comes over the line. "Going left." She pulls the A-Wing back and reverses to reposition herself along the Aldera Elements lineup.

With the precision of craftsman, Jax proceeds to destroy Aleph 5. Exine chirping out the kill. "Don't get cocky. There's a whole lot of them still out there and we're in an antique." Jax says as the fly past the explosion framing them from behind. His com lights up with voices of Bors and Tallie, <<Sunshine! It's been a moment and will do Aldera Lead.>> Jax slipping into formation with Ulani. His voice cracking on the com, <Nice kill 2. I can't keep up with the A-wings and E-wings. Mind if I form up with you? You hit them high and I'll hit them low? Remind them why no matter the generation, X-wings are to be feared.>>

The dueling warships continue to move through space at their snail's pace, barrages of energy lighting the blackness between them with dazzling lines of furious green and red, their impacts made known in washes of blue shielding and the occasional gout of flame. For a moment, it seems that one of the Sith's destroyers might be going under, as a rogue cannon blast penetrates a weakpoint and one of the comms arrays erupts in explosive fashion, but after a moment of anticipation, the dreaded domino effect does not occur and the ship remains intact.

As the first squadron of ties is gradually thinned, a pair of humming Daggers slices into view from below, flying in tandem as they engage with the Republic fighters, the two ace pilots a tag team veteran duo of countless simulated engagements eager to prove their worth at the real thing.

Checking sensors, eyes on visual, then back to reads with his expression twisting and his singing momentarily halted, <<"Copy Six, covering you.">> waggling his wings when the A-Wing joins their particular section of the ongoing merriment. <<"Roger, on our left. I'll take Six's right">> flipping onto one side before rolling to 'land' on Ejnar's starboard.

"What!? What is it?!" R2-IT's wailing filling Bors' cockpit amidst a parade of lights and a whole jizz band of alarms, "Yes! I know! I'm aware!" swiveling in his seat, checking sensors again and blinking, "They're not shooting at us, daft droid!" and then the following, incensed, blats and bleeps come, "Wait they already shot us?" BLAPBT! "Oh... OH I see." TWEEREEEIP! "Language, It."

Dropping back for just a moment to address a concern, <<"Lead, Two - I've got your six.">> tri-link heavy cannons engaging in a stunning display of sanguine highlights, shields shredding and hull plates glowing cherry red. Explosions burst from the rents in the hull and then the ion engines go, blowing the fighter to one side and into a spin before the rest goes up sympathetically.

<<"Splash two.">>

"Eleven percent... Eleven!" Ejnar says as he looks on from his more distant position away from the merged fighters. There's two new ones in the fight now and they seem even more of a hornet than the previous nearly decimated squadron. "We need to move quicker... let's go Five-Tee."

He gives an update to Bors, <<"They're back up but... not quite combat ready. Give me some more time.">>

"You know it," Tallie repeats over comms to Jax, a small little smirk kicking up one corner of her mouth. "Been a real moment." The wing-waggle gets a quick grin, but no laughter. She keeps on the left of the Elements, attempting another lock and fire but going off the rails with that shot, too. "Not my night."

Besh 2 came out of no where, strafing across the superstructure of Jax's X-wing. It was the force and Jax's quick thinking as he kills the throttle and letting the Tie Dagger out fly him. Exine is squawking and reading out damage reports, Jax pulls back on his throttle and gets on the Besh 2's tail. His cannon's firing, somewhere in the back of his mind he hears a husk female voice says, 'Everyones got a plan till they get punched. I just punched you what are you going to do now.' Jax smiles, "Go down swinging." Then keys up a mic, <Ladies and Gentlemen, The Sith Aces just joined the fight. Sunshine, knock the rust off and get back in your flow. There's a reason you're a top gun and an Old Rogue.>

The capital ship battle shifts as suddenly a New Republic frigate's shields buckle under a concentrated onslaught from one of the Bloodmoon destroyer's main cannons, the devastating blast a reminder of the risk that these massive starships pose; not up to the level of the extinct Xyston-class, but certainly dangerous in the extreme. The foundering frigate sails, smoking, into the side of a Mon Calamari crusier, erupting in a flume of high-energy debris and sending onboard staff scrambling to lock down the exposed corridors laid bare by the collision.

Out in space, however, it is still a struggle of person against person as the solo starfighters tangle and twist a web through the night sky. Ulani, perhaps due to her skills as an engineer, perhaps due to her status as a decent human being feeling the call of conscience, drops back from the thick of things, diverting towards the smoking cruiser. In the void left behind, the twin aces (actual or metaphorical) spiral in tight, focusing on Bors' E-wing as a threat and Jax's X-wing as a target of opportunity, intent on sowing some havoc more than rescuing the lone survivor of their companion squadron.

<<"Keeping Mamma's Boy flying, Sunshine. Can't say less to that.">> Unsure whose wrath he'd prefer, Tycho or Winter's, if they brought back a KIA report. Shaking his head and checking readouts, trying to see where the rest of the fleet is. How they fair against those Destroyers. A moment to look and then Bors is rolling, inverting over Ejnar, looping over Tallie's port and finding himself beneath and between the two.

Eyes on your own fight, old man.

But the adrenaline dump... it's the best part.

"It, who's saying hello?" a series of bleeps answering and a target lock lighting on his reads, "Thank thee." tapping comms,

<<"Keep at it Six, we've your back.">> adjusting throttle for a hard brake while pulling up, a Viper Maneuver if they were in atmosphere. Rearing his craft up like a serpent moving to strike and then dipping forward. Rookie move, rookie enough that it appears it wasn't expected of him. The leading Besh squadron fighter forced to drop and reduce speed to allow the majority of Bors's fire to overshoot save for a spattering of fire across shields, weakening them but not eliminating them,

<<"Target softened up if someone wants it.">> a glance is given for Aldera 2 moving off, called on emergency tech work. Brows knitting and lips a line for the sight of the Republic craft being battered.

Jax was in the flow of the battle for once happy not to have a squadron to manage himself. Exine chirps at him, "What? I am not enjoying this. My ships took damage and we're in the middle of a fire fight. You're the one that wanted to go on adventures all those years ago." He says as he pulls a K-turn that should have happened in a fighter more agile than the old T-65. He pulls the trigger of his cannon and shreds off more shields off Besh 2. Somebody had done his fair share of time in an A-wing. He says breaking off after Besh 2 misses him. "WHat happened to that fight Besh 2? All gone since you couldn't intimidate me?"

The New Republic's answer to the escalation in the days prior was to move their newest superweapon, the defensive Crucible cannon mounted atop the Hosnian Pride, into orbit, intending to bring it to bear against the amassing Sith Fleet for the first time in pitched battle. As the Sith's first barrage on the frigate hits home, the Pride, a super Mon Calamari cruiser turns and returns fire, disrupting energy from the cannon smashing into the destroyer's shields. For a moment, it appears that Pride would be their downfall.

But while one destroyer is crippled by the onslaught, the rest of the Sith fleet fires back at the Pride, almost as if they had been waiting to do so. The combined fury of the superlasers is devastating, every destroyer focusing their superlaser on a single target.

<<"All units!>> a raspy Mon Calamari voice breaks over the comms, <<"Withdraw from Thyferran space! Return to rendezvous point Dorn Seven! The Hosnian Pride is critically damaged! Repeat, return to rendezvous point Dorn Seven! We /cannot/ risk the Crucible falling into Sith hands!>>

Belaboring under the damage and the enemy fire, the Mon Cal supercruiser moves with bad grace to the edge of the fighting, the other Galactic Alliance ships following suit and preparing to make the jump to hyperspeed, beating a disorganized but tactical withdrawal from the system.

Aboard the bridge of the Sith flagship, the man in the black cape watches with a measure of satisfaction. "Perhaps there is something to this button-pushing after all."