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Thread: Hit and Run (Ord Trasi Shipyards) - 11.012 ABY

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    Thread Semi-Open Hit and Run (Ord Trasi Shipyards) - 11.012 ABY

    Ord Trasi was originally a waypoint planet - a place to refuel before exploration into the furthest reaches of the galaxy. The Empire eventually upgraded the outpost, turning the resource rich planet into one of their ship building facilities.

    The two moons were riddled with mining operations, crawling with droids who tore the orbiting spheres apart for their minerals. All in service to the Imperial machine.

    It wasn't as large, or as close to the Core as many of the other Imperial shipyards. They built capital ships, but only had room for two Star Destroyer-sized ships at a time. Ord Trasi was as close to a backwater as you could get and still find top of the line ships being constructed.

    A Golan defense platform sat in orbit, and bored pilots took regular shifts patrolling the yards. Remote probes drifted through the system, part of a wide sensor net that kept the site secure.

    Sensor 002-1DG went dark.

    An Imperial tech was called up to cycle the probe remotely, to see if it could be brought back online. The tech discovered that 002-1DG had been destroyed, probably by a random asteroid or other space junk.

    They ordered the next nearest probe in the sensor net to move closer to where 002-1DG had been when it had gone offline, and scheduled a replacement launch for the next day. In an hour the second probe would be able to give them more information about what had happened to 002-1DG, and in 36 hours the grid would be whole again.

    The tech double checked the available data and typed up a quick report to their manager before going to lunch.
    Last edited by Lilaena De'Ville; Mar 12th, 2019 at 01:35:50 PM.



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    Bretak stood on the bridge of the Aranar, the Interceptor-class frigate that was part of the mando'ade's fleet. Behind them the Hammerhead-class Haran loomed, easing through the hole they had created in the sensor net that surrounded Ord Trasi. And even further behind the Haran was the Ne'ta Prudii and the other, smaller, and less armed transports.

    Shuttles filled with Acolytes and their other allies were ready to launch once they were in range, but first the orbital defenses needed to be taken care of. All their turbolaser power would be unleashed on the Golan platform, to allow the Basilisk droids freedom to launch and close the distance. Mand'alor herself would ride one to the Golan to ensure victory.

    They were approaching the planet behind one of the moons, but there were only minutes left before they would be detected.
    Last edited by Lilaena De'Ville; Mar 14th, 2019 at 01:53:51 PM.

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    Lilaena De'Ville absently patted the metallic neck of Buruk as she checked her mando'ade around her for readiness. The bes'uliik turned its vast head toward her when she stopped, animal-like behavior a quirk of its programming and long existence on Onderon. Aang, the splash of blue on his helmet distinctive, was settling in on top of Kotir, checking the newly installed canopy that would seal him and a passenger in against the droid for the journey through space.

    She caught the gaze of Jeng, and nodded. "Almost time."

    "We will crush this Golan." The blond Mandalorian smiled, helmet in hand. Behind him, Tiktik was mounting Galaar, getting situated on the secondary seat.

    "Vi Kelir naastar bic," she agreed. They would completely destroy it. There were so many weapons on the Golan platform that its destruction was not an option but a necessity. Eight basilisk war-droids and sixteen Acolytes were enough to do it - if everything went according to plan.

    Everyone in the hangar finished suiting up in their armor and helmets, and the bes'uliik sealed their canopies. The chrono on the bulkhead ticked down, bright red numbers flashing to match a countdown on their HUDs.

    "Haa'taylir gar bat te ashi eso!"* called Lilaena over the comms as the numbers clicked over to zero.

    The war-droids bounded as one toward the forcefield that enclosed the landing bay of the Aranar, and leapt out into space.



    *See you on the other side

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    Galaar’s nose broke through the Aranar’s forcefield and it’s powerful rear legs propelled the Basilisk war droid into the vacuum of space. The moment the huge droid burst through the security of the shield, Jeng’s whole body tensed and his grip on the iron beast’s hull tightened. His breath and the war-drum of blood pounding in his ears were suddenly the only sounds. He’d known that the upgrades to the war-droid meant they were ready for spaceflight, but that didn’t make it any less exhilarating to finally Galaar out into the black. The boost engines on the rear of the war-droid’s armored wings flared, burning bright and fierce. To Jeng’s left and right, the others surged alongside him, racing towards the Golan platform at alarming speed. The HUD in Jeng’s helmet flashed with data, reporting the approximate time to impact with the platform (not long) and, as they came into range, highlighting gun emplacements (everywhere). Galaar lifted it’s massive claws, it’s mechanical arms outstretched, mount and rider both equally eager to join the battle.

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    Break folded his arms as he watched the blips that were the basilisk droids appear on sensors and dive toward the Golan platform. As soon as the assault party was clear the Aranar fired it’s sublights to close the distance.

    “They have spotted us,” reported one of the mando’ade on the bridge. “Fighters are being scrambled.”

    ”Open fire,” ordered Bretak, wishing he could be astride one of the mighty besu‘liik as they soared into battle. “Target the turbolaser batteries.”

    He was not overly concerned about taking hits - the Aranar had a heavily armored hull and strong shields to make up for it’s comparative lack of fire power. After one or two strafing runs the Haran would be close enough to simply ram the Golan out of the way.

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    Lilaena had ridden Buruk many times before, and was very familiar with how to use her body to guide the big war-droid where she wanted it to go. Since it was linked to her HUD all the information she needed was easily visible, and yet she could not contain the thrill of fear that shot up her spine as the basilisk launched her into the black of space.

    Behind her in the secondary saddle Obed was painting targets for the droid on a virtual layout that all three shared. Other targets lit up, chosen by their vod on the other besu'liik. Buruk banked slightly, thankfully not needing much in the way of piloting as it fired its shatter-missiles at the Golan.

    "Hold on," said Lilaena, unclenching her teeth as the defense platform loomed ahead of them, turbolasers flashing brightly all around. Fighters were starting to pour out of it, but it was too late, the Mandalorians had closed the distance quickly and with a vibrating thump she could feel in her bones Buruk slammed into the side of the Golan. The droid's clawed feet gripped the hull and they set to work destroying any gun placements nearby before the TIE fighters could swing around and start targeting them.

    Kotir landed beside them, firing its shockwave generator rods directly into the hull of the Golan and beginning to tear it open.

  7. #7
    Galaar collided claws-first with the platform. A grin lit Jeng’s face as he thumbed the war-droid’s laser cannon’s to life, blasterfire studding the structure of an emplacement dead ahead. At his command, Galaar leapt into the air and lurched forwards with another burst from it’s boost engines. The mobile cannon on the emplacement began to swing towards the swarm of mando’ade and, without hesitation, Jeng loosed a missle that collided with the base of the turret. The turning mechanism struggled on, it’s operators still trying to bring the gun to bear on the interlopers. Jeng urged his mount upwards and the war-droid’s armoured body smashed into the cannon’s barrel. Shunting itself downwards with its wing-mounted boosters, it buried it’s shockwave generator rods to the hilt in the already warped metal.

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    The eight basilisk studded the Golan platform, crippling its firepower where they could reach. Thankfully they had no need of the Golan or its starfighter complement, and could slag it indiscriminately.

    The Aranar shuddered as it took fire from the Golan, but their shields held. Bretak smiled under his helmet.

    "Target the launch bays."

    TIEs were starting to swarm, but there weren't enough. The Imperials had been depending on their treaty with the Alliance, and Ord Trasi's position in the galaxy, to keep it safe. Oh, there were fleets positioned all through Imperial space, but they wouldn't be here for at least an hour. Most likely longer.

    The Haran launched a pair of shuttles as half of the besu'liik on the Golan turned their gaze 'up' and began targeting the TIE fighters. The other four were tearing into the hull of the platform to get inside and disable it for good. The shuttles were not defenseless, but they were depending on the chaos around the Golan to distract most of the fighters away from them as they flew straight for the shipbuilding platforms.

    Bretak smiled grimly as the Aranar scored a direct hit into a launch bay, triggering a gout of flame and a plume of debris. Then they were past the Golan, targeting secondary defensive platforms that, while much less deadly than the Golan, posed problems of their own for the shuttles.

    Behind them the Haran picked up speed as it flew closer, arcing away and then around to line up its giant hammerhead with the Golan's backside. If they hit it just right, it might end up crashing into a moon.

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    As the shipyard's defenses rallied, Lilaena closed her eyes, letting Obed take over full control of Buruk. Stretching out her senses she breathed in deeply of the Force, casting a wide net that gathered in all of her allies.

    The Golan began to shudder under the claws of the basilisk. Around them the aim of their vod grew even more precise as Lilaena formed a picture of the entire battlefield in her mind. The Haran was lining up to shove the Golan out of the way, and the besu'liik on the hull detatched as one. Some tore through the opposite side of the platform, the tunnels they left behind venting atmosphere and bodies.

    The shuttles zig-zagged for the shipbuilding platforms as besu'liik tangled with TIE fighters. Buruk slammed directly into one of the Imperial fighters, tearing off a stabilization wing before blasting apart the cockpit. Leaping off, the war-droid synchronized with its fellows. The riders seemed to target and aim without needing to talk to each other, just knowing where the enemies were and which ones they should destroy.

    Her eyes stared blindly as her mind filled with her vod, the Mando'ade, her allies - meditating on the battle as it unfolded around her. It was immense.

    It was incredible.

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    Within the hold of shuttle seven a silent mass had assembled. Huddled and quiet, the many impassable faces looked straight ahead from either side. Not at each other. Through each other. Separate. Alone. And yet, as one they listened to the explosions and laser fire that shook the vessel; and felt every bump and jolt as one.

    The air was a tangled weave of emotions. Excitement, fear, and everything in between. Each of the Mandalorian soldiers held fast to his or her convictions in the face absolute annihilation. They grasped tightly to their cause, as if it was a life raft to survival. Not a single one of them second guessed their mission; and only a few doubted the execution of the plan. Rather, they were steadfast and trusted in their leader and her vision.

    Zereth heard it all. Felt it all. When he looked inside himself, he could not find the same conviction. The same trust. This operation had put a sour taste in his mouth. This was a not a hand offered to a suffering victim, or a shield held against tyranny. This was a strike deep into Imperial space, on the edge of a heavily populated world. A civilian world.

    He had joined Eleutheria to defend the defenseless and to stop monsters. This was a calculated strike against an enemy that stood no chance against them. There was no honor to be found here. Not today.

    "Ruus'alor; this is a military shipyard staffed by a civilian world. Let us keep our eyes keen and our blades clean of unnecessary bloodshed. There is no honor to be found in butchering engineers."

    ...the shipyard has laser cannon emplacements and a few TIE's. Starfighters move to intercept and destroy those cannons. ETA two minutes. Coming in hot!

    The Dark Jedi's stirred on the floor, and looked once more on the world with his eyes rather than his mind. Breaking the inter-connectivity of the lotus stance, he returned full body to reality. As all those additional senses fell away what was left was intent. Focused. Rising to his feet he took his helmet from the crash webbing it was tucked into and slipped it on.

    It was a relic of a bygone era that elicited the Neo-Crusaders in it's design. A wide visor that offered a great field of view, as to not obstruct. It was old and worn, and slipped into place easily, the neck gasket locked into place on the chest plate that was hidden beneath the outer layers of his robe and cloak. Every limb clad in steel, wrapped in silk.

    Today I am a soldier. Dressed for war.

    The shuttle shook violently, no doubt they were near their approach. The room became tense as each soldier prepared for battle. Weapons were readied, and hands hovered above the quick releases on their crash webbing. The fear was gone now. As a collective unit they were ready, for whatever was on the other side of that door.

    The impact was savage. The shuttle felt like it might tear in half. The tortured scream of metal filled the hold. Then it stopped, and the door opened. The Mando'ade charged the breach, and Zereth lead from the front. Beyond the portal was a docking bay, boasting racks of TIE fighters hanging from crisscrossing catwalks. Blaster fire rang out. A few white armored Stormtroopers stood out on the gray interior. They were immediately overwhelmed with blaster fire as multiple shuttles disgorged Mandalorian soldiers.

    Undefended black suited TIE pilots soon joined their white brothers. It was every bit the slaughter that Zereth had imagined. They were not ready for this.

    "Docking bay secure."
    Last edited by Zereth Lancer; Apr 15th, 2019 at 06:52:34 PM.


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    Bretak folded his arms across his chest as he watched the besu'liik tear through the scrambling and disorganized TIE fighters. The shuttles made it to the shipyards as the Haran slammed into the decimated Golan platform, shoving it out of synchronous orbit and toward the moons.

    The Empire would not be happy about this attack, but by the time anyone of importance made it this far out the Mando'ade would be long gone. And with them their prize.

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    "Sooran, shab!" Obed yelled, whooping insults as Buruk slammed into the orbital shipbuilding platform. The war-droid bounded across the constructed expanse, targeting defensive hardpoints as its fellows distracted the TIE fighters.

    Edee landed beside the shuttles, pacing as Granoi and Vail guarded the escape for their
    vod. A swooping TIE came too close, plasma bolts stitching toward the ships, and Edee sat back on its hind quarters, shooting it out of the 'sky' almost before the riders could have known it was there.

    "Kandosii!
    " - Nice one!

    The Haran and Aranar criss-crossed in space above the shipyard like immense dance partners. Turbolasers boiled through the vacuum toward Ord Trasi's crumbling defenses, expertly targeting the remaining gun placements. A TIE fighter got caught by one of the lances of green energy, split in half and disintegrated instantly.

    Inside the shipyard the teams split in two - one with engineers and the other with pilots. The pilots ran toward where newly constructed starfighters were housed while Zereth led the charge into the Interdictor.

    Lilaena's eyes stared blindly as she sank deeper into her meditation, Buruk moving smoothly underneath her as Obed continued to stalk over the shipyard.

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    The hallways beyond the docking bay were completely empty; filled only with the tolling of klaxons and flashing amber lights. The occasional Imperial showed themselves, and they were offered clemency and a stun round if they yielded, and swift red death if they refused. They moved at a quick pace, jogging down the length of the Starport. Zereth lead the way, his flaming sword streaming ahead like a beacon lighting the way. The Mandalorian followed behind, peeking inside doorways, watching hallways, and posting up to guard the path to prevent being cut off from the way they came in. The rare counter attack was ended before it could resist them. They did not have the numbers to stop the small army pushing down the corridors.

    Turning a corner the entrance to the dry dock came into view, as did a small compliment of technicians and armed security. Their eyes met across the distance, and one of the men punched a switch. Additional klaxons clanged as the door slammed shut, and then a series of blast doors fell over the top of it. It was not going to stop them. Mando'ade were already pausing to pull free blasting charges. Zereth had other ideas. Running up into the door he stabbed his blade straight through the center; forcing the blade deep into the layers of durasteel. Dragging the blade was like swimming in bacta; each movement was heavily resisted and every inch was it's own victory. Glowing lines of molten slag were left in it's wake, circling around the door until meeting together and completing the circle.

    Stepping back, he took a moment to focus himself. To find that calm sky that pressed against an ocean of emotion, and place himself at it's center. Ignoring the klaxons and lights, but allowing in the pain in his burned hands. Balance. Good and the bad. Light and darkness. Serenity and rage.

    His blade deactivated in his hand, and he held out the other toward the molten puck. And pushed. The puck quivered in place, rotating from side to side, and then it fired through the door and disappeared beyond among cries of surprise on the other side. Zereth was right behind it, sprinting up to and then diving through the hole. Arms flattened at his sides, eyes closed. There was intense heat, so great it threatened to set him alight. and then it was gone. Replaced with the cool recycled air beyond. Falling to the ground, he tumbled up to his feet, his lightsabre reactivating as he rose, and his eyes finally opening. Seven men. Four armed. The light went out and in the absolute darkness only the red blade lit the way.

    The blast doors peeled back, grinding loudly with their now misshapen bodies. From the opening escaped black wisps that faded quickly to reveal Zereth standing over the bodies of four dead security guards. The three technicians huddled at the edges of the doorway, desperately trying to clutch at charred stumps with hands they no longer had.
    Last edited by Zereth Lancer; Apr 15th, 2019 at 06:52:14 PM.

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    The Mando'ade pilots fought their way into the hangar where the completed starfighters were housed after coming off the assembly lines. Howlrunners dominated the space, but on the far side of the cavernous room there were a few squadrons of completed GAT-12 Skipray Blastboats.

    Not expecting the larger craft, Ciryc made a snap decision. Most would head to the Howlrunners, but he pulled five others with him as he sprinted across the hanger to the blastboats. Manda'lor would appreciate this find, he was sure of it.

    Within minutes the Howlrunners began to exit the hangar, Basilisk droids covering their escape from the orbital shipyard. By the time the last one had exited, Ciryc was climbing into the first Skipray Blastboat and inserting the datachip to it's console that would overcome its internal security systems. If they'd been able to program a slave circuit he could have flown out of here with at least twelve of the heavy fighters, but he'd settle for three.
    Last edited by Lilaena De'Ville; May 15th, 2019 at 06:41:59 PM. Reason: ttt jeng and zereth

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    "Starfighters are liberated and heading to the Haran, Bretak," called out one of the vod on the bridge of the Aranar. "Resistance on the shipyard has been neutralized. The engineering team is installing the slave drive to the Interdictor."

    "Good." Bretak surveyed the battlefield on the HUD attached to the captain's chair. "Recall the bes'uliik - the Ne'ta Prudii will cover the Interdictor until it has been slaved to it's systems."

    From there the two ships would jump in tandem to a random spot, where the mass shadow generator would be removed and shunted onto the smaller ship. Bretak resisted the urge to stand and stalk across the bridge.

    How far they had come from the day he had 'captured' Lilaena De'Ville in the Wilds of Onderon, intending to make her a bride. He almost chuckled at the thought. She could have cut his head off at any moment, but had allowed him to prove his worth and cement his spot as her second in command.

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    Another obstacle overcome, Zereth lead the crusaders further inside. Just beyond the dead and crying defenders was the airlock to the Interdictor Star Destroyer. Klaxons screamed their warning. No atmosphere they cried, and in turn they were ignored. They were prepared. Their armor was a sealed bulwark against the void. As the doors peeled open in front of them, dragging the last wisps of atmo out with it, the crusaders marched on. Down the skeleton hallways that revealed what would be hidden underneath the skin of the ship once it was finished. It would never make it that far. They marched with purpose when available, and floated when necessary.

    They split into two forces, one toward the back of the ship and the other toward the bridge. They moved with purpose, lead toward the bridge by the black and red cloaked Darksider. There was no time to spare. A fleet patrol could be just beyond the system and already on it's way. As they moved many engineers stopped and gawked at them through their helmets. The Mandalorians made no move toward them, and instead allowed them to step aside, set down their plasma torches and rivet guns, and live.

    The bridge had gravity, and most of the consoles were active. It did not take long for the barebones system to be broken into and slaved to the Mandalorian Fleet.

    "Will the ship survive the jump?"

    "It's infrastructure is complete. It should survive the jump. Everyone on board? Less so."

    "Are the comm systems online?"

    "Umm... Let me check... There's a system in place. Impossible to tell if the whole ship is pipped. Why?"

    "Send a warning through to the engineers to get off immediately. We are leaving as soon as the hyperdrive is ready. Where are we on that, Braxton?"

    "Diverting power to the hyperdrive. Lights are gonna go down a wee bit but we should be able to keep the gravity. It'll just be a wee bit before we can jump. Gotta power it all up. Never been used before and all that."

    "Engineering team, what is your status?"

    "We've encountered some resistance in engineering. Nothing we couldn't take care of. We've taken control. We should be able to detach the sphere from here, and if we can't we got enough blast charges to make it let go."

    "Hyperdrive is ready, mates. Detaching the docking clamps. Goddamn lockout. Overriding. Oi, Mandalore canna see about blasting us free of the dock arms? They're being a bloody bitch."

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    Edee and Kotir swooped in on the docking clamps, blasting the Interdictor free almost before the call for assistance went out. The basilisk droids sprang clear, and began to regroup, making their way back to the Aranar.

    Lilaena blinked clear of the trance as Buruk leapt from the orbital shipyard, flying nearby to cover the escape of the two shuttles after the raiders left the soon-to-jump Interdictor. So far, so good.

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    "Righto. All systems go. Detached and slaved to the Ne'ta. Let's go boys. 'erbody out, lest you want to get turns 'ta star dust."

    Taking the point once again, Zereth led the group of Mandalorians through the tight corridors of the bridge section of the ship. Never made for men in armor, much less with all the building equipment in the way. Single file they ran as fast as they could with one destination in mind; the nearest opening to space. The primary hangar bay was not too far, and based off the comms chatter the second team was already boarding their shuttle from an emergency access port at the rear of the Interdictor.

    The hangar was barely constructed at this stage, with only a single platform standing. Most likely to facilitate the drop off of supplies. Braxton had the hangar bay blast shields open in no time, and they had naught to do but wait for the shuttle to coax in for a landing. There was no counter attack, and only the occasional terrified engineer running past looking for a way off the ship. Not a single weapon was fired or life lost at their hands on board the Interdictor. A victory in itself. There was no need for further bloodshed when they already had their prize.

    Climbing aboard the shuttle they wasted no time strapping themselves in, and barely had the last boot hit the floor than the shuttle fired up it's sublights and blasted out the hangar, leaving the Interdictor behind as fast as it could. They needed to regroup and get out of here before that hypothetical fleet next door showed up.

    "We are all clear. Heading for the Ne'ta."

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