RPlog:Showdown at Cochran

Showdown
Refrain of Anshalar was serving as more than the lead ship for Forward Auresh Group. It was also serving as the command ship for the entire operation, with Reprisal lined up as a reserve command ship should Anshalar fall. The Shock Groups have most likely already reached their rendezvous points far away from Cochran, and are now awaiting a signal from the Refrain on when to jump in. Five minutes until the proximity alert goes off. Aboard the Refrain of Anshalar, Luke stands quietly at the command console, his eyes gently perusing the bridge crew and invited guests. Below decks, three squadrons of starfighters are geared up and waiting to deploy, along with a handful of marine shuttles fully loaded and ready to commence operations. He can sense them all... the general emotions ranging from fear to anger and anticipation. Gently, he stretches out with the Force, beckoning it to fill the vessel with a sense of purpose and peace.

Cochran. Life once flourished and space traffic was heavy with people and goods moving back and forth to a civilization that had been sent into history and to new worlds. Warmth and hope were quickly and succinctly abandoned for darkness and oblivion. The sun remains strong and bright though it no longer feeds hope and enjoyment on the world; instead it has changed its' purpose to cast shadows along the sector from the smallest debris in the asteroid field, to the planet itself. People had been murdered in senseless violence, or left in a choice that could only be called abandoning hope- which the force now felt and bent the system to it's own living will. The Dark Side consumes the memories that survive in rock and space; in turn filling it with its' own existence, as other worlds have done for millennia. The shadow extends over even those who wield it's awesome power, allowing them to hide within themselves, and this very day, it was no different. Ghosts of the past now linger along the surface of the world and through the belt of asteroids which now stream like a river of stone just past the planet; some lingering, others are new arrivals. Each one was still a strong presence, vivid and all seeing- for those who they had come to guide, and those they had come to watch. Not surprisingly, anyone who enters the system sees a common scan around here. Nothing. Emptiness and void; unless they have the will to see what remains in the echoes of history.

Suddenly, a flash of motion indicates the arrival of fresh vessels from hyperspace. The bulbous, antiquated mass that zooms into being first is that of the Jedi cruiser, Refrain of Anshalar. A large ship who's capability far outweighs its outward appearance. Three other craft appear behind it, those being the Corvette Audacity, and two Assault Frigates named Portrane and Solidarity. A dozen X-Wing starfighters also emerge amidst the ships, forming into an escort vector as soon as the entire group has reverted to realspace; the starfighters of Ghost Squadron. The Refrain of Anshalar, taking up a lead position, pivots just slightly so that Cochran is in the bridge's forward view. General Skywalker stands at the command chair, leaning forward ever so slightly as he takes in the sight before them, and feels a shiver run down his spine at the overwhelming vacuum created by the dark side. He narrows his eyes slightly, then presses a button that opens a channel to the ships escorting his cruiser. "Forward Auresh, this is Auresh One. Form Escort Pattern Besh." He then nods toward the sensor officer, indicating his desire to commence scanning. "Where are you," he whispers.

From her cockpit in Ghost One, Major Kyrin Sh'vani double-checks that all of her ships are in formation and following orders. "Krayt, Ghost Lead, we are on station." A simple report for the early times. None of the X-Wings have their S-foils locked in attack position just yet. For just a few seconds, Kyrin murmurs a brief thanks to the crew chief that keeps Ghost One in top status, remembering a rackety old Z-95 she recently flew. "All Ghosts report in," she orders tersely because that's what they do when they come in from hyperspace. Kesander's flight reports in neatly with their call signs, and then her own, and then Kyrin waits patiently for the third flight to announce their presence.

As soon as Rebecca's ship enters realspace she slips two switches in her cockpit, one activates her shields, the other splits her fighter's Strike Foils, putting them into the X shape that gives the fighter it's name. Responding to Ghost leads check in call she says. "Ghost 9, standing by." Followed by Ghosts 10, 11 and 12, then she switches to the flight frequency. "Ok, 3rd Flight. You heard the General during briefing so you know your orders, but don't fire until you're fired upon or Mr. Murphy arrives and makes our lives hell." 3 tsks come back to her over the frequency.

 Deep inside the asteroid belt near the far edge of the system lays the truth of this place- the Star Destroyer Predator, along with her Nebulon-B frigates Emperors' Destiny and Intimidator were all waiting. Their distance doesn't afford them a direct sensor scan that would warn them of the arrival of the Republic- however the sensor probes lain throughout the minefield make it quite clear. On her bridge, black uniformed officers continue their busy preparations and duties which would make the decision to run or fight possible; though the decision would ultimately lay in the hands of the cloaked figure at the end of the command walkway. Dareus stands tall, his eyes staring out of the viewports into the rocks that float past with a dedicated precision, among other senses. A smile crosses his lips when his XO calmly states, "New Republic fleet has just entered the system on the other side of the asteroid belt." The Sith turns, accepting a datapad with the readout of ships "Excellent. Commander, have all pilots report to the fighter bay and issue orders to their CO's to standby on Alert-1. Set course 312 mark 9 and take us out." The massive wedge of the ship pulls from the asteroid belt on a course towards the newly arrived fleet, each of her frigates flanking the sides, although no fighters have been launched just yet. It wasn't clear on the ship just yet if they were turning to run or fight, the dark side that swarms the system and planet spills into the bridge and around the lone figure. Dareus turns to his crew with a nod and cold tone "Signal the battle group Captains. We're staying to fight."

General Skywalker can definitely sense the presence of his enemies, but the cloud of death that lingers over Cochran hides their location from him at first. But then, the Predator emerges, and the sensors across the Republic's four fleet ships light up. "There they are," Luke says quietly. "Open a hailing frequency." He waits for the comm officer to connect the frequency, while the Refrain of Anshalar's three escort craft begin powering up their shields and charging their capital-scale weapons. "Captain Dareus," says Luke, his voice authoritative, carrying on the hailing frequency for all to hear. "This is General Skywalker aboard the Refrain of Anshalar. Stand down and prepare to be boarded." As soon as he's finished stating his demands, the tactical officers board all four vessels begin relaying orders that prepare their crews for battle.

SPACE:  "All Ghosts, lock S-Foils in attack position, but await your orders," Kyrin states, reminding them of their instructions from the Jedi earlier in the day. "We have a specific task here." She keeps Ghost One on line with the original flight plan created that morning, not wavering from it in the slightest. From Ghost 7, her XO acknowledges the order and offers his own brand of Corellian response, one that would not bode well for the status of any Ghost who ignored orders this time around. Something about how getting busted and having to work in a droid repair facility would be considered heaven compared to what he'd do to them.

 Rebecca maintains formation and tsks her com in affirmative as Ghosts 10 through 12 flip their switches and their S-Foils split into attack formation. They also send their own affirmative confirmations to Ghost Lead.

 None of the ships which were en route to the unwelcome guests have fired yet, although every one of them were preparing internally- systems checks and shields were raising along with additional power being drawn to their weapons arrays. Still at the forefront and watching the group that was growing closer in the view; Dareus remains locked in his gaze while senses stretch out along the blackness that separates the units. "Continue preparations for combat but hold all fire." A grin crosses the man's face while the Jedi's voice comes over the comm system. "Open a channel." A small click is heard just before Dareus starts to stroll down the command walkway to a tactical station where his senior officers are "I think you've had enough of a tour of my ship, General." The rank comes out with definite malice, but he remains calm and cold "However I will give you the chance to lower your shields and surrender. In either event, your Senate will need to requisition new ships for your fleet. I can guarantee you that not one of your crew will set foot on a Sith ship unless they are in shackles." There were concerns with the X-Wings that were easily seen preparing to attack, though they haven't done more than a simple show of force. Still with the open channel, he grins softly, "Commander, launch squadrons and assume a defensive perimeter around the battle group." The pilots had been waiting for this, it would seem, streams of Interceptors, dark in color- a contrast to their Imperial Navy cousins leave the Predator and pull just slightly ahead of the flagship.

It's not often that the New Republic will be the first to strike. Luke Skywalker is not about to change that record. However, he's not against showing that he means business. He pushes a button that mutes the hailing frequency, and dispatches an order to one of his bridge crew. Seconds later, more starfighters begin to pour out from the belly of the Refrain of Anshalar. First the A-wings of Falcon Squadron, then the X-wings of Krakana Squadron, and finally, a mixture of Y-Wings and B-Wings that make up Dagger Squadron. The entire mass of starfighters fall beneath the Anshalar and begin forming up on each other's wings - A-wings and X-wings moving to escort their heavier sisters. Luke un-mutes the hailing channel. "We will not surrender, Captain. Your presence at this place is a disgrace to the departed, and the Republic will not stand for it." He mutes the channel again, and turns to his tactical officer. "Commence Stage One." The two Assault Frigates break off slightly, turning their port and starboard sides respectively, and unleash a barrage of warning shots toward the Sith fleet. Just outside range, the shots splash harmlessly against the Predator's shields, not even powerful enough at this range to tickle the generators.

 Ghost Leader takes the opportunity to talk to the leads of the other starfighter squadrons really quick, reaffirming who's got which portion of the playing field according to their orders and acknowledging that the Predator's launching fighters. "We see them, Krayt," Kyrin states to the Audacity's communications officer on behalf of the starfighters. Switching frequencies, she fills in her people. "We have company. Still hold course to our orders. The others will take lead on those fighters."

 Rebecca tsks her comm in affirmative and is followed almost immediately by the rest of her flight.

SPACE:  The channel remained quite open on board the Predator, the Captain listening intently as he was scrolling the tactical readouts as the new fighters were launched. Hitting a key, it is muted for a brief moment, "Prepare to activate the minefield but only on my orders. Too soon and they'll just run off like they always do." Releasing his finger, the Sith's voice carries back towards the Republic fleet and he simply shakes his head while speaking and moving towards the viewports again, a small flash of light only gets acknowledgement by him raising his eyebrow to it. "The Republic doesn't know what it stands for anymore, aside from falling back and allowing people to starve without any government. However, you should know by now that you're the outsider in this place; and we're the ones who are welcome to it." He looks down to another bridge officer in one of the pits below his feet and gives him a simple nod; the port turbolasers of the Predator release a barrage of green towards the asteroid belt, quickly annihilating the rocks and sending their shrapnel towards their guests. "I can play this game as long as you want, Skywalker. Unlike you, I embrace this place, not weep about those who died here. Things change across this galaxy, and you'll find I don't make the same mistakes that my predecessors did." A simple movement of his hand kills the transmission between them again, "Move the Emperors' Destiny and Intimidator into attack position; formation Bravo 1-9" The escorts break off from their close watch of the command ship, spreading the fleet out like a bird who was preparing to take off at it's food, though they still don't advance just yet. Another nod and the channel opens, "I'll give you one final time to have you surrender; which will let your people live. You on the other hand, belong to my Master and his own."

SPACE:  After the first sentence from Dareus comes over the hailing frequencies, Luke begins to ignore it. Instead, he mutes the hailing channel and opens up the command channel. "All units. Switch off your hailing channels. We won't listen to his vile, twisted lies." The order is passed to the three escort vessels, and summarily toward the starfighter Squadron leaders. Within seconds, every vessel has muted the hailing frequency, save for the Refrain of Anshalar and any rogue starfighter pilots who feel that obeying orders isn't for them. Their flight records will get them in trouble later. Skywalker is not about to let Dareus's twisted tongue dishearten his warriors... the order will boost their collective morale. Luke leans forward over his command console, watching as the Sith fleet spreads out to greet them. "Dareus, this conversation is over." He finally disengages the Refrain of Anshalar's hailing channel, and moves away from his command console. He trusts in his tactical officer to belay his orders now. "Defensive strikes on incoming shrapnel. Portrane and Solidarity are to engage the Nebulons, with a flight each from Dagger Group. Audacity is to take dorsal position on Anshalar, and target the Predator's shield generators. Third Dagger Group Flight is with us." He motions his hand forward. "Attack." Dagger Group, being the trio-formations of X-Wings, A-Wings and bombers, split apart to form escort on the Frigates. Audacity moves toward the Anshalar's dorsal side, and the capital ships begin firing minimal shots to take out any large pieces of shrapnel. "Ghost Squadron," says Luke. "Engage enemy fighters."

SPACE:  Once the order is passed along from Audacity, Ghost Squadron is also advised to shut off the hailing channel. "Good," Kyrin murmurs to herself, well versed at how stupid her pilots get when taunted by the Imperials. "As ordered, General," she replies to Luke on their internal frequency before switching back. "Ghosts, we have our orders. Engage enemy fighters, weapons hot, accelerate to attack speed." And Ghost One is the first one to lead into the fray.

 Rebecca switches over to her flight frequency. "You heard the boss, let's get too it." As the acknowledgements come in she throttles forward with Ghost 10 on her wing. "Pair off but stay close to each other for cover." Another round of acknowledgements tsk in her ear. Rebecca switches over to torpedoes until the range gets closer for her lasers and settles the brackets over an incoming Interceptor and it pulses yellow slowly as the targeting computer tries to get a lock.

Combat: Round 1
 "That sanctimonious bastard just cut me off..." He keeps the tone low enough that only his most senior officers would hear it, but it was still enough to annoy the Captain. The sensors read the same things that his own eyes do, the ships are moving into their positions; bringing not just a smile to his face, but a flow of the dark side through the bridge. "Tactical command to me and open a secure channel to all battle group personnel." He begins to step towards the rear of the bridge again, taking a datapad to read through the scans, his voice remaining calm and calculating while he speaks to his own. "All fighters are given clearance to fire at will, provide cover for the capital ships. Bring all turbolasers online and lock on targets in the asteroid field for port batteries, starboard are to protect our flanks from fighters." Reaching the station finally as he was slowly scanning his information he nods, "Launch the Scimitars, have them keep their larger ships at bay or disable them for prisoners." It was times like this that the Sith took direct command and responsibility for everyone under his command, accentuated by his interim order "Prepare a boarding party if any of their ships survive."

 The Dagger Group flights form on the rear side of the Frigates, which move forward and begin throwing turbolaser blasts toward the Sith Nebulon-B targets. Audacity aligns her weapons on the Predator's conning tower, and begin lashing out with zeal. The Refrain of Anshalar is the last to bring its weapons to bear, but instead of targeting any specific vessels, they sight themselves on the shrapnel that is unleashed by the Predator's chillingly tactful offensive trick. Guided by the strange, mystical connection that the Refrain of Anshalar has with the Force, the gunnery operators have no difficulty in locking on to the larger chunks of frayed asteroids, and begin blowing them out of existence. As for Skywalker, he walks toward a central, unmanned console, and presses his palm against the sleek control plate. A small readout flips to life, and he looks down toward it with a knowing look. "Draw them out, brave ones," he says quietly, as if waiting for something secret to take place.

 "Sandman, we have our work cut out for us," Kyrin advises her XO once they receive the order to engage the fighters. Ghosts One and Two break from the main formation, even as Three and Four do the same, each Ghost partnering with their usual wingman to get down to the business of killing the enemy. With the other starfighters present, Falcon, Krakana, and Dagger, doing their own thing, Ghost Squadron shows their own side exactly why they're probably one of the top two or three squadrons the New Republic has handy.

 "This is Sandman, Copy that, Ghost Leader," comes the responding transmission from Captain Kesander Beysarus. "Ghost 8, stay on me, we're about to go to work," continues the Corellian as he coordinates with his own wingman. "Spectre Flight, Stay sharp and prioritize your targets, Wingmen stick on your leads - let's do this like professionals, people. Peel 'em off, set 'em, and knock 'em down. Sandman, over," continues the blond-haired X-Wing driver as he sets about the business of combat, angling his forward shields and prioritizing targets.

 He lived for this, trained and bred in the heat of combat. The Jedi always feared the Sith due to hidden plans, and this was no different in any conceivable way. Putting a comlink on his ear, Dareus keeps the tactical pad in his hand which brings readouts from the whole battle group at his fingertips "Evacuate the lower decks aside from vital areas and cut life support, draw the additional power to the shields." Skywalker was right, in a sense; useless systems could easily be killed off to provide combat capability, especially for a ship that was barely staffed with living people. Gazing out of the viewport the shields absorb the brunt of weaponry at the tower "Strengthen our aft shielding, and lower the rear to 60 percent." Looking down he taps his fingers softly as orders move out to the fighter squadrons and scimitar bombers; the black Interceptors moving at full throttle towards the X-Wings as they spill streaks of green into the converging forces. The Scimitars however bank hard to starboard and move towards the larger frigates, immediately launching concussion missiles at their shielding and weapons, ignoring the vital areas. Dareus, it would seem, wanted guests. "Redirect firepower at the mid-sized asteroids, let them deal with the smaller pieces. That should give their shields a workout, and make some creative flight patterns for their fighters."

 A glowing white prosthetic eye scans the Hangar bay as the TIE squadrons detach from their racks and head into space. Being handed his flight armor, Wolf stands with one foot inside the cockpit of his Headhunter two class fighter. Putting it over his shoulders, he slowly lowered himself into his cockpit, flicking up the starter switches as he fastened his gear. "Alright. I want you lot formed up on me as soon as we clear the bay." he said, calling out to Lightning squadron over the comms. The canopy lowered and a grin began to stretch across his face. He hadn't had real combat since he got here. The force field fizzled over the hull as Wolf's Headhunter cleared the bay and almost immediately, the rest of the interceptor squadron, Lightning formed up on his six. "Pick targets and show me what you're made of!" he said, slamming his throttle down and sending himself into what was about to become a large hairball.

<Refrain of Anshalar, NR Fleet – Luke> Skywalker's hand remains affixed to a console aboard the Refrain of Anshalar's bridge, as if the tactile contact served a greater purpose than it would appear. His eyes shift from the readout to the battle as it spreads and opens up, licking his lips momentarily. There is no fear, rather, an intensity in his eyes as his Jedi senses observe the battle with eyes that even the Sith lack... the eyes of harmony in spirit. The warrior's soul that roars through most of the fighter pilots is one he finds a bond with, a link through the gratuitous chill that envelops the dead system. "Just keep at it for a few more seconds," he says to his tactical officer. "Prepare for the Calrissian Maneuver, on my mark!" His eyes go back to the battle at hand. The NR's Assault Frigates were starting to take a beating, but they held their ground while the Dagger Groups swarm, letting the bombers unleash a handful of proton torpedoes in the direction of Dareus's Nebulon-B frigates. Audacity continues to pummel at the Predator's conning tower shields, but seems to not be making any progress. The report comes to Luke's ears, but he ignores it, for now. "Maintain position, Forward Auresh! Any minute now..."

<Ghost One – Kyrin> Her fighter weaving through the mass of fighters opposing her, Kyrin's finding that their opponents aren't the easily pasted pirates Ghost has been up against of late. A few sloppy maneuvers from a couple of the other Ghosts causes the Chyleni to remark in a cool disappointed tone, "These are not untrained backwater pilots, Twelve, do not let yourself get killed." Her eyes keep on the scopes as she tries to get her personal target in line with her laser fire, to no avail. "Sandman, talk to me..."

<Ghost 7 – Kesander> "This is Sandman, I'm still here, Ghost Leader," replies the Corellian just as his ship and his wingman, Ghost 8, are obliged to conduct a fast and tight vector roll to avoid a lethal convergence of green death-bolts from the TIEs swirling about. "We're holding our own, Phoenix, but you're right, these are veterans we're tangling with, been damn difficult to line any of 'em up," transmits the Captain after he's cleared the danger zone. Toggling his comlink once more, the blond-haired pilot sends to the flight of Ghost Squadron that he leads: "Spectres, this is Sandman, nobody get stupid out here. You may have already noticed these people have some skills. Make sure you use yours. I want teamwork. Squadron combat maneuvers. Let's get it done. Sandman, out."

<Sith Fleet – Dareus> "Lightning Squadron, keep those fighters off the frigates as long as you can." The channel remains open over the encrypted comm system that links the fighters with the command ships, "Emperor's Destiny, move to grid 23 and provide covering fire on the fighters." The Sith's fingers dance across the tactical datapad with precision and his voice rarely raises above what could be considered pure concentration into his task; no longer distracted by the force, but using this sector to his own advantage. Dareus takes a break for a moment to look out through the window as his eyes examine the flashes and streaks of blaster fire that is also mixed with the explosions of concussion missiles. His senses were not as attuned to what Luke's were, but they also were not remotely dead, especially not in a place that was flooded in darkness. "Send another barrage into the asteroid belt, target their command ship. Intimidator reinforce your shielding on port side and push forward to two six beta three." The battle was rather well matched, which was a problem, though the Jedi haven't seen every card that the Sith held in his hand. "Take us in" The Predator begins to push farther ahead of her frigates, absorbing and placing itself as a gigantic shield that withstands some of the barrage from the Republic fleet, inside the ship barely feels it, though the systems do, and the shields buckle from time to time.

<Darth Malign> Silently, Darth Malign watches the battle from his personal meditation chamber. The battle flashes before him as he stands before a massive viewport cloaked in his heavy black robes. Behind him was a holographic tactical display projecting images of the battle before a Sith altar. He stretches his aura out across the battlefield, getting a sense of it as it edges into the intensity of any life or death scenario in vacuum. It was clear what their objectives were. "Strange how Jedi can come with murder in their eyes to battle and take their titles." He muses to no one in particular, his only audience a host of mutated vegetation that sways quietly behind him. A black gloved hand gestures activating a switch. The tactical display shifts to an image of the bridge of the Predator. "Captain, report." He says coolly, "Terminate all life support on all levels with the exception of the hangar deck, my personal chambers and the bridge and reinforce the shields and boost our cannon power. Droids don’t need to be warm, or to breathe. We will lose a few slaves and prisoners but they are meaningless." Through the Force, the Capital vessel seemed almost devoid of life, naturally this was due to the Sith's employment of droids to fill all essential positions outside bridge duty and piloting starfighters. Malign never cared much for armies of living beings, they didn't have the courage to do exactly what they were told, but without hesitation any order could be given to a droid and it would be flawlessly executed with no resentment or consideration. For now the only logical thing to do was watch, Dareus was an able officer, if he failed... well, only time would tell.

Aboard Refrain of Anshalar: Wrista continues to rove her stylus over her data display, and glances at Luke. "They've just crossed the outer estimated threshold." She says it as a matter of protocol-- she's fairly sure that Luke's using quite another metric for deciding when to call his next set of orders.

SPACE: <NR Fleet – Luke> "Now!" commands Luke. The order immediately goes out through encrypted command frequencies from each of the New Republic's warships. "All units! Fall back to point two seven! All units, fall back to point two seven!" The Dagger Groups immediately draw about to protect their respective vessels, as the two Assault Frigates begin to bank about, as if to make a hasty retreat. Audacity, still hovering above the Refrain of Anshalar, begins to pivot as well, in tandem with the much larger Jedi Cruiser beneath them. It would seem as if the Republic's forces were so terrified of their Sith opponents that they were beating an early retreat, doubling their aft shields as they are brought about to face the onslaught from Malign's vessels. But then, in the blink of an eye, hundreds of starships start blinking into appearance. First are the massive wedges of both Victory-class and Republic-class Star Destroyers, then half a dozen Mon-Calamari Star Cruisers, followed at last by almost a hundred escort frigates and corvettes. All bearing New Republic markings, the rest of the New Republic Second Fleet has arrived. The ships come in from four distinctly different locations, most likely a short micro-jump's distance away. The four groups of ships come out of hyperspace hot, their weapons charged and shields coming online. Skywalker narrows his eyes as he looks up toward the now diminutive Sith Fleet before them, and watches carefully to see what they will do now.

Aboard Refrain of Anshalar: Wrista has a job to do, but that doesn't stop her from looking up as the Refrain swings around hard, the twi'lek swaying slightly as compensators have trouble adjusting to the extremity of the maneuver. And she can't quite avoid a sense of wonder in the fleets exiting hyperspace. She doesn't usually get to actually see these things. Marines ride to fleet battles in the bellies of shuttles usually, not the bridge. "Now there's a sight," she grins.

Luke cracks but a momentary grin at overhearing Wrista's comment. "We're not out of this yet," he muses. "I sense something..." He releases his hand from the console, no longer needing to monitor its status display, and reaches tentatively for the command frequency again, eyes squinting.

Wrista nods seriously at Luke's reply, returning to her assigned tasks. "I've just never really seen a fleet come out of hyper like that. There isn't usually much of a view for us groundpounders." Then she taps her headset live again, stylus moving on the display while she talks quietly. For someone that claims she really isn't a naval officer or particularly skilled with 'all that FleetOps stuff, she's adapting well to her present task.

SPACE: <Ghost One – Kyrin> "Break off and fall back to point two seven," Kyrin commands her pilots as soon as the command comes down the pike. She expected it, of course, having been in those meetings, and of course she told Kesander." Nearly as one, the X-Wings of Ghost Squadron break off from whoever they're shooting at. "Three, this is no time to be a hero," she states curtly when she notices a lagging X-Wing. "All ships, aft deflectors to full, do not allow yourselves to be shot in your six." Her X-Wing, with Two right on her right-hand dorsal wing, tilts in a balletic move that gets the two ships out of the line of fire, while Kyrin keeps an eye out to make sure that all of her team is out and safe. "Good hunting," she says to the newly arrived Second Fleet, her voice full of satisfaction.

<Ghost 7 – Kesander> "Spectres you heard the boss lady, break it off, I repeat, break it off and fall back to the designated coordinates, the rest of the party just arrived, Sandman, out." Wrenching his ship hard over, the Corellian and his wingman dive away from the pair of TIE interceptors that had been spraying fire in their direction. "Shields double rear, Ghost 8," recommends the Captain to the pilot who's stuck by him through this fight. "Spectres, this is Sandman again, one more thing people," transmits the pilot of Ghost 7 as though he's got a good idea. "Since we've got all this rock floating around out here, use it if you need it to screen your withdrawal. I want to see everyone back at Audacity. Everyone stay sharp and be prepared for updated orders. Sandman, out."

<Sith Fleet – Dareus> Dareus gives a quick nod to his XO, and the life support is instantly cut, screens show the increased power flow that would nearly burn parts of the ship out- had it not been planned for as an emergency. "My Lord, we've engaged the Republic fleet, and there are currently no losses on our front." When the ships begin to withdraw, Dareus no longer doubts it was not from fear; Skywalker had made him a fool once, and it would not happen again. Instantly, he speaks over the comm to all of their forces "Do not pursue." With a narrowing gaze of his eyes he re-reads a new tactical display, keeping the link open with his Master as well "And it would seem they brought friends." He had little of a choice with a force that severely outnumbered them, suicide wasn't productive. "Regroup at grid reference five two two. Activate the minefield and prepare to arm them. All fighters, do as much damage as you can on your way to the rendezvous." Across the expanse of the asteroid field that gave them cover, and separated both forces from the barren world, thousands of cylinders blink as they come online, strategically placed for something that even Skywalker couldn't foresee. "Commander, increase fire towards their fleet from a distance, the mines are hidden, but their sensors will pick them up as they're armed." The ship itself was bathed in the Dark Side now, to the Jedi, it looked as though they could end the Sith fleet in one simple push; Dareus however, finds an ironic perfection in the additional targets.

<Darth Malign> It had been months since Malign had seen a mass of ships this large carrying the banner of the New Republic. He silently smiles watching as the ship's systems respond to the sudden shifts in energy, "It seems Skywalker views us as a serious threat Captain, do not disappoint him." He says allowing himself to quietly laugh as he turns toward the door a droid handing him a breath mask, "I am coming to the Bridge Captain, prepare to my arrival." He pulls his hood over his head and places the mask over his face as a massive blast door slides over his viewport and the room vanishes into darkness as he steps out into the hall of the vessel now freezing cold and with little or no breathable air. He silently pushes across and steps into the Bridge just a few corridors down allowing the door to seal behind him. "Show the Republic that the Sith, are back, Captain, show them that numbers alone cannot hinder our efforts to spread darkness to every corner of this galaxy, let them fear us." He waves a dismissive hand toward the viewport before taking the command chair to silently observe the destruction that was to be brought.

<NR Fleet – Luke> The New Republic's forward attack group makes an impressive retreat, with starfighters changing roles to play to each other's strengths. The capital ships making up the forward attack group begin to spray space behind them with weapons fire, taking out any debris they can lock on to. Skywalker returns to the command chair aboard Refrain of Anshalar, turning to face the foreward viewport, when his instincts begin to scream. He may not have foreseen what's to come next, but the Force will never fail him, even in darkness. He darts forward and opens the encrypted command channel. "All units, angle shields to the enemy and prepare for impact!" Impact of what? Skywalker doesn't take the time to tell, for all he has is a guess. However, the reinforcements from Second Fleet have brought with them a renewed surge of energy in the Force, generated by the living, breathing heroes that occupy the warships. Luke closes his eyes, trusting that the command crews will distribute his orders without question, and begins to bend this new energy in the Force with his mind, willing it to spread out and envelop the space before him. As it pours and permeates into the cockpits and bridges around Refrain of Anshalar, it strikes fear from hearts and brings hope. Even the Sith will feel the tremor that spews forth from the Jedi cruiser.

<Ghost One – Kyrin> "You heard the orders, Ghosts," Kyrin answers as all hell seems to be breaking loose amongst the capships. "Keep yourselves alive." Not only checking her scopes but visually counting her ships, she makes sure everyone's where they ought to be now that the laggers have caught up. "Stay sharp." Her ship sweeps away from the enemy forces and lets their larger ships do what they do best.

<Ghost 7 – Kesander> Aboard Ghost 7, Kesander does a visual check to make sure all members of his flight have made it out of combat in one piece. "Spectres, I want damage reports. If anyone's going to have problems landing their ship, I want to know about it now," transmits the Corellian to his flight. "And don't stop checking your scopes people. This fight's not done by a damn site. If we get in-coming TIEs, lets make sure we see them first, ok? Sandman, out."

<Sith Fleet – Dareus> He could already sense that Malign was en route; though he respected the man he would not break from his current task for anything. "Recall all fighters to their bays, set a course to rendezvous with the Independent ships and prepare to enter hyperspace." The fighters quickly dock, and the fleet begins to come about with the same tenacity that Skywalker's well-planned distraction does. Dareus moves along the command walkway, his own cloak billowing slightly with each step until he reaches the tactical console. There's no distraction in the Captain but he can sense Skywalker’s efforts though their purpose is unknown to him. "A vain attempt... to say the least." The gloved hand of the Sith falls simply and unceremoniously onto the terminal to press a small button. Within mere nanoseconds an encrypted signal fans out from the flagship that is picked up by ten thousand derillium mines. Strategically placed, they were all too close together and far too close to the asteroids- the attack doesn't come from the Sith front, but from the side towards both groups of ships. On the opposite end of the belt from the fleets, the explosions begin, small at first- almost insignificant and invisible to the naked eye. The wall of shattering debris and searing plasma forms; quickly gaining momentum and size while row upon row of the devices detonate. The outward shockwave is easily large enough to envelop both Sith and NR ships alike but also just enough to cause a second armageddon on the surface of the dead planet. What used to be part of a moon of Cochran fractures into large pieces of stone that are pushed at high velocity towards the fleets. In what looks like what could only be a suicide move, the Sith ships wait and watch as the roar becomes audible to the crew, even felt through the deckplates that begin to vibrate while the destruction approaches. With the shockwave heading towards them, the crew still seems to have no fear in their actions despite the brightness that comes through the viewports. A few reckless moments pass before the apprentice finally gives the order with no time to spare "Deploy the battle group." As soon as the words are spoken the three ships disappear with a bright flash that is quickly enveloped by the explosions' wake; leaving the enemy to what end but easily leaving their withdrawal covered.

<NR Fleet – Luke> Luke's warning may have prevented a lot of deaths. Though many of the comm officers were left confused, they spared no hesitation in relaying the General's message. Fighter pilots and bridge crews across the Second Fleet ready themselves for the unknown, their eyes plastered to viewscreens and sensor readouts. As soon as the explosions and electronic signatures become visible, the bridges become a cacophony of shouts and orders. Still, the New Republic didn't train fools. The right people get the right reports, turbolasers get hot, and fighter pilots get ready for the worst. Large chunks of shrapnel are torn to pieces by plasma, peppering the shields and causing so much energy scatter that for a few cataclysmic seconds, comm frequencies turn into static. Yet there was very little fear in the minds of the New Republic's warriors. When the debris passes, the pilots and navigators then have to face an alarming shock wave, which threatens to tear control away from the pilots and navigators. Yet somehow, the right warnings are delivered in the mere seconds before hell breaks loose. When the shock wave passes, there are no deaths. A plethora of damaged vessels, starfighters with little shielding left and scores of skin damage to their hulls, but the New Republic has survived. Unharmed. Luke opens his eyes slowly, sweat dripping from his brow by the force of his mental battle. He slowly uncurls his hands from the seat before him, as the roar of the shockwave disappears and things get settled on the bridge, leaving the crew with only the sound of beeping console alerts. "Report," he says, quietly.

Aboard Refrain of Anshalar: Wrista had kept her eyes firmly on her display, relaying information and the like as events unfolded. She's always been good at turning a blind eye to danger when it's necessary, and this one's no different. "Sith fleet appears to be gone. I assume they fled-- too much to hope they vaped themselves. Damage assessments are still settling out, but it doesn't look too bad."

"Sir," calls out the tactical officer, following Wrista's report. "Shock Groups One through Four report superficial damage, but nothing they can't control." Luke breathes out a slow breath of air, and turns to look at Wrista squarely in the eye. He seems weathered, worn, yet somehow exhilarated at the same time. "I'd say that's about accurate," he concurs.

SPACE: <Ghost One – Kyrin> After Ghost Squadron rode through that hellstorm with... oddly minimized damage, Kyrin breathes a soft Chyleni curse equivalent to the Basic 'eff me'. "Report in, everyone," she says more audibly to her fighters, listening to the other squadron leaders getting reports in from their people. Her wingman complains about having no shields and some scoring on his ride, but none of third flight seems to have any permanent damage. "Sandman...?"

<Ghost 7 – Kesander> "Ghost Leader, this is Ghost 7, reporting in," transmits Kesander, adrenaline still making his chest hurt after the excitement of the cataclysmic explosion. "Ghost 6 lost his Astromech and Ghost 8's shields are down. One of my engines took some damage and is down to 45 percent efficiency. Otherwise we're all still here," he explains, double-checking the information on his system status read-outs. "Anybody have any karking idea what in blazes that was?" Looking over his shoulder, the Corellian can only stare for a few moments in wonder at the residue of the gargantuan blast.

<NR Fleet – Luke> Reports bounce back and forth between flight leaders and squadron commanders. Escort vessels report to their battle group commanders. Within half a minute, the fleets have communicated amongst themselves, and have a general understanding of what they came through. Luke opens an encrypted frequency that goes to all vessels. "Alright everyone, listen up." He pauses for a moment, his voice sober yet strong. "Initial reports show that we've taken general superficial damage, but no losses. The Force has been with us, and the enemy routed. We still have work to do. Pilots, your squadron commanders will coordinate landing and patrol cycles with their berths. Shock Groups One through Four will heed the commands of their operational commanders. Some of you are going to be returning to the Home System. Others will be staying here. Congratulations, gentlebeings. We've survived hell." He switches off the comm, and steps away from the command chair.

<Ghost One – Kyrin> "Ghosts, listen up." And then Kyrin takes time to hand out landing assignments, including calmly and politely telling a certain deck officer that her worst-damaged ships will most certainly indeed get priority landing. Ghost one remains on the outside of the landing bay, counting each Ghost landing one at a time. "Krayt, Ghost Squadron is down and secure," she states to the command officer when she finally brings her ride in for a landing.

Aboard Refrain of Anshalar: Wrista finishes her coordination efforts, keying her com off so she can eye Luke sidelong. "You should find yourself a few minutes rest while things are settling out. You look like you've been dragged around the ground by a katarn or something."

Luke turns to face Wrista, and chuckles slightly while lifting a hand to brush through his dampened hair. "That's a good idea," he replies. "Make sure your marines are ready for a landing operation." He turns a sidelong look toward space outside, where Cochran's wasted ruin is now vaguely visible through the dust and debris left behind by the maelstrom. "We're going to take a closer look at that dead planet before we go home."

Wrista grins cheekily, nodding. "Hardly worth the trip if we don't. Any special preparations we should make, aside from the usual odds and ends for this sort of recon?"

Luke smirks mildly, then nods his head. "Ion weapons, as directed, and make sure to bring heat-resistant footwear, gloves, and headwear. Thanks to Kreldin, the entire planet is an unstable, tectonic nightmare. We can hope that Malign's facility is in a sturdy location, but you can never be too sure." He turns toward Seth Senesca, who looks like he's just seen a ghost, even though he's still working hard at his station. "Senesca, you have the bridge." He gives the fellow an encouraging look, which brings some of the color back to the redneck's face.