Violet Stars Fall

[Fromikeable]

Theme music! Harukei CaptainBonkers Bolt

---

The bustle of 15,000 sailors came to a halt as intercoms crackled to life, a three-tone whistle airing through every corridor.

”General quarters, general quarters. All hands man your battlestations. Up and forward travel on the starboard side, down and backward on the port.” As a blaring electric tone began to repeat on a loop, every sailor sprang into action. Relaxed mess halls emptied in rushed flurries, hot food being abandoned mid-bite. Shower stalls were emptied by sopping-wet sailors in varying states of dress, some awake, some less so. Staircases and lifts became marching grounds as sailors filed up and down each in a practiced rush, the only sounds to cut through the din being the barks of officers.

At the bridge of The Enduring Flame, life was no different. Officers and specialists streamed in to take up positions as the senior commanders shuffled. Generals and admirals came as each was required, some headed toward command centers, others toward shuttles to their assigned ships. Through it all, Horst stood ahead of the master console, his hand on the alarm switch. Depressing the button beside it, he leaned in, a small microphone crackling to life as the alarm silenced for a blessed moment.

”This is not a drill. All hands prepare for immediate engagement.” Letting off, he watched as the bridge’s command center flickered to life. Handful by handful, the fleets checked in, confirming their readiness as they no doubt blared the same alarms and incurred the same responses. The lot of them started pulling into formation as the Flame's engines glowed to life even within the hologram. The stars beyond the bridge windows began to drift as slowly, steadily, the mighty ship pulled out of Bothawui’s orbit. As it did so, the rest of the fleet followed suit, forming up on all sides, the dreadnought at the center of a growing swarm. By the time it stopped turning, the entire Republic contingent of the Joint Military Operation was pinging the flagship, every ship primed and ready to jump into hyperspace.

”On your order, General.”

”We get a new status report from the Regent?”

”They’re on track, sir. 10 seconds off of the operation plan.”

”Then count it.”

”Aye sir. Helmsmen, jump in 10… 9…” The last of the bridge crew scrambled into their seats as the multiple sailors working the helm talked over the count, each relaying instructions and parameters to the others. Even before the count was halfway over, the surrounding fleet was beginning to jump, the stars in the bridge windows stretching with a careful slowness.

”3… 2… 1… Jump.” With a final set of acknowledgements, the stars before the The Enduring Flame were pulled into streaks, rocketing by with wild abandon.

---

The Spire hung above Nar Shaddaa like a chandelier without compare. The fleet that surrounded it moved in an unidentifiable rhythm, every motion meticulous, every deployment both natural and designed. The purple glow of the crystal bathed the planet below, its shine on parr with the moon it hung above and the stars it dwarfed. Around it, the five Verses took their places, orbiting around its waist like a team of dancers worshiping their mammoth idol. The dance was serene, even soothing, each and every vessel less like a member of a fleet and more like the limbs of some great and terrible disjointed creature.

That was, of course, until every ship stopped dead in its tracks.

A single intruder appeared before them, popping out of hyperspace with little fanfare. The vessel, a Republic corvette, hovered in solitude for a precious moment before, on the opposite side of the Spire, an Imperial frigate appeared. Neither moved, the two ships hanging in limbo with the Archeri fleet for a handful of seconds. Just long enough for the sailors aboard each to contemplate the forces before them, and more importantly, to radio in a set of all-clear signals.

Then another two ships arrived. Then another dozen. Then another hundred.

The forming fleets snapped into existence ship by ship until each was composed orchestrated rings, giant defined spaces being kept free and open at their centers. As thousands of engines began to glow with thrust, the empty spaces were replaced by the largest, final stretches of light.

First came the grey majesty of the The Regent, the Imperial fleet advancing.

Then came the red stripe of the Enduring Flame, the Republic fleet advancing.

Last came a furious telepathic message, roiling over the moon, the space above it, and the solar system about it.

So be it.

The Verses split in half, exiting their synchronized orbit around the Spire as three headed toward the Republic fleet and two headed toward the Imperials. The rest of their ships followed suits, the improvised guns on the Spire and every other ship swiveling to life as a great shimmering began to surround the crystal. Running from one tip to another, a massive, purple-tinted barrier took form patch by patch, forming into a perfectly smooth elliptical bubble.

Aboard the Enduring Flame, Horst couldn’t help but glare a bit, leaning forward on a railing before one of the bridge’s windows. Punching a button on the console before him, his voice growled to life.

”All JMOC ships, this is Republic General Stellar. Joint commands are as follows.” The Republic and Imperial fleets began to spread out into formation as the comms came alive with reports, orders, and information. Both fleets began to advance from opposite sides toward the Chorus.

”Republic fleets, command is being handed to Admiral Talion. Imperial fleets, report to Grand Moff Torrik. Engage and destroy all Archeri ships. Clear the way for the dreadnoughts to bombard the Spire. Keep the Archeri away from our ground forces. Carriers, deploy the moment we engage.” The carriers of both fleets began to chime in with preparations and acknowledgements, fighters beginning to flood out of each.

”We don’t stop until that rock is vaporized.”

[CaptainBonkers]

Havlen Torrik was not a military man. He had some experience with being part of the Imperial armed forces, as all the premier academies within the Empires borders were essentially military academies, but much to his parents chagrin he had chosen to pursue career in the Ministry of Security. However, despite of that, he had now been chosen to lead the Imperial Naval Forces into battle against the Archeri. Either Renata had somewhat reckless faith in Havlen’s abilities or she was trying to set him up for a fall. He wasn’t planning on failing, though, which was he had had very little to do with the actual battle plans.

The Imperial Navy had a cadre of skilled men and women whose only job was to draw up plans and to not utilize them would have been the height of hubris. Havlen was certain that, had he wanted to, he could have designed a competent plan by himself, but by standing back and merely coordinating the Empire’s sharpest military minds the imperial plan for the upcoming battle against the Archeri was more than competent. It was good. By himself he could not have hoped to reach the same quality. Likewise, in the upcoming battle his task would involve more keeping all the various admirals of the fleet on the same page and pulling on the same rope instead of chasing personal glory, rather than micromanaging tactical decisions.

Next to him, Admiral Sorans inspected her datapad after it gave a faint beep. “I have sounded general quarters and we will be arriving shortly, sir. If you wish to address the fleet, now would be the most opportune time for it.”

Havlen handed the cup of tea he had been sipping to an aide-de-camp. “Very well then. I suppose I should offer a few words of encouragement to them before the battle commences.”

He reached for the communicator and switched on the general channel. “Soldiers of the Empire.” he began, his sollemn voice echoing beyond the Regent's bridge doors with barely noticeable delay. Havlen didn’t bother identifying himself; the spacers and marines of the Imperial fleets approaching Nar Shaddaa knew who was in charge without.

“Today, under the eyes of a galaxy holding its breath, you are called upon to face a foe that poses an unprecedented threat to everything we hold dear in our lives. Many of you are veterans of the Great War against the Republic and the rest of you have tasted combat keeping the Empire safe from rebels and pirates. The Archeri are unlike any of those foes. They do not feel fear or pain, do not tire and can coordinate with greater speed and accuracy than a Republic fleet guided by the influence of the Jedi. I shall not lie to you, it will be an uphill battle. However, our enemy is not invincible. They can be killed, just like anything that lives. The technology at their disposal is inferior to ours and we hold some other advantages as well. The Archeri themselves are powerful but the brainwashed masses supporting them in battle are anything but undisciplined rabble, ready to be mowed down by true soldiers, and we are not facing the foe alone. By our side in the fight we have an unlikely ally in the Republic whose fleets match us in number if not in power. It might be difficult and require sacrifices, but if we all do our duty unflinchingly, we can win this fight. So obey your officers, trust the men and women fighting by your side and we will win this fight. Long live the Empire and may the force be with you in the battle to come!”

Havlen cut the channel. He wasn’t entire sure how true his speech had been, especially whence it came to evaluating the enemy’s technology. However, it was important that the soldiers believed that they held cards one could play instead of three coasters and two cards from pzaak deck when they were playing sabbac. Confidence was an excellent morale booster, after all.

“Excellent speech, sir.” Sorans said. “And well timed, we will be decelerating in three...two...one...brace for exit.”

The shimmering blue tunnel of the hyperspace gave way, first to the line of stars marking deceleration, then to the actual field of battle. The Archeri forces hovered around the Smugglers’ Moon, waiting for them to engage. The Republic fleet was already in place. Havlen retrieved the cup of tea from the aide and took a sip.

“So it begins.” he mused quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.

[Harukei]

The Flame was much different to his own ship. Although the core systems, the electronics, the sensor sweep, targeting arrays were the same, he didn't feel the familiarity that he would have preferred if he had been on-board the Anenke. The command chair reserved for an admiral felt unused and alien, data screens far larger and arrayed in a semi circle as the different stations within the bridge of the ship relayed important information. Even he had convinced himself that he had detected a nuanced peculiarity of the air that came through the oxygen scrubbers within the ship, although that was probably his mind playing tricks on him. His particular bothers had been placed aside as the felt the soft pull of the majestic ship as it turn. He stood from his command chair and passed the holo-projector embedded on the floor, the plastic webbing slapping against his boots as the ship and the fleets arrayed like a wedge around the flagship of the Republic inexorably advanced in the cold void. 

Saul's mind went through all the meticulous preparation, all the planning, all the significant disposition of the battle groups and their roles against the behemoth they were to face. This was the best that the Republic could muster and he hoped it could be enough. He looked around as the forms of the humanoids and sentient beings, all wrapped in environmental suits manning their stations, going about as they double and triple checked the final readouts from the different sections of the ships, all working through the necessary discomfort that he had put in place. He had done what he could inside and out of the fleet. He had drawn plans to have security details at every bulkhead and junction, at every entrance of critical stations like the bridge, engineering and life support systems. Service tunnels had been seal but to repair droids, hallways blockaded so to form choke points unto which their weapons would be more effective, every battle and security droid that could be spare that been activated to aid whilst personal that was usually non-combative had been placed in reserve or in a form of aid across the entire fleet. 

He was no foot soldier, but part of him hoped that crewmen of each vessel understood. And if they didn't the scorn of the survivors, if there were any, would be preferable to the scorn of a bitter ex-wife. He looked at the screes as the numerical data scrolled and he nodded. With a calm nod took the helmet of his environmental suit and sealed himself in, the sound of his own breathing accompanying him before it faded. A Duro Commander came to him and passed a datapad to him.

"Thank you L'ulo." Saul said as he reviewed the information. "Please, open a fleet-wide communication."

"Yes, sir." The Duro responded. 

A brief static filled his ears as he stood in front of the holo-projector before the line came clear and every eye in the fleet turned towards himself in present or in holographic form.

"Task force Aurek, this is Fleet Admiral Saul Talion. I won't lie to you, the battle that comes forth will test all of us. We face an enemy like no other. But it is out duty that defines us, our sacrifices that ensures that others may live peacefully. We are the bulwark against the monster that threaten us. They speak of joining our voices into their song. I say, we give them our own song, as we beat their shields like a drum and break the atrocity they have the audacity to call ship. Let's go kill these bastards."

A roar was heard across the ship by every living being, their hearts stoked as the fleet continued to move forward, its weapons charging and trained at the distance of the Archeri. Missile pods prepped, Torpedo bays ready for lunch. A silence reigned in the bridge as it descended like a shroud broken by the constant beeping of telemetry and weapon stations. 

"Sir?" A Zabrak officer asked in a whisper as the view of the archeri ship was evident. 

"Fire." He said softly as a crescendo of turbolaser, ion blasts, rail gun, missiles and torpedoes flew from every single vessel all towards the enemy.

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

Halvor sat in Deck 37's bar, others occupied the space, but he sat alone. Around him, he heard voices masking fear and tension through tight-lipped quips. He took another sip from his cup, a clear liquid splashed around, water. He didn't want to dull any sensations for the coming battle.

Word must have gotten out that they were closing in on the Spire, men and women were starting to clear out. Hal noticed the saddened looks they were giving one another as well as the surroundings of the ship. For many, it would be the last time they saw each other and they knew this. Glasses quickly piled up on the long counter of Deck 37, some still half full, others with beads of sweat running down the glass. Hal swallowed the last of his water, returning his cup with the others. Sure enough, a message came over the ships intercoms, calling for general quarters.

As a full-fledged member of the Cult of Ascension, Hal and other Knights usually received separate hangers while docked in ships and stations, but these were not usual times. Hal's ship waited for him along with the other pilot's vehicles. Hal took his time, choosing to walk down the massive hanger instead of taking a turbolift. Many of the ships were separated by type, he saw a cluster of Arrow-class ships, similar to his own, though just from looking at them, he saw the differences in preference. Some pilots had chosen more missiles, while others had opted for a second or even third main gun. Hal approached his vessel and placed a hand on her side. In blood crimson the words Starpiercer were written on the side.

Hal popped open the cockpit as the Grand Moff began to give a speech. Hal climbed inside his ship, instantly feeling at home inside the little bird. Hal sighed as the cockpit hissed closed. He looked around, others were climbing in, but the hanger decks were eerily silent. While the Moff was finishing his speech, Hal pulled up an Imperial database, quickly skimming over the pilots nearest to him. He swiped the database away and sent a quick notification to three other pilots flying Arrows. "You're with me," he said to each.

The ship rocked slightly as it blasted out of hyperspace. Hal's HUD received the responses from the other pilots, Hal blinked them away, already knowing what they said.  Hal initiated his ships take off procedures, his three designated pilots doing the same. Along with countless others, they streamed out of the Regent's belly, swirling in a triple helix. At the bottom of the spiral ships began peeling off. Hal's team pulled out of the spirals, taking time to view the battlefield. As they got their bearings, Hal's ship alerted him. He looked up and saw the Republic's Enduring Flame pouring hell down onto the Archeri.

Fighters spewed from dozens of ships, carriers, destroyers, and battleships, Imperial and Republic alike, as well as emerging from Archeri ships. Hal saw some ships heading for the surface, he marked them, sending the information to his wingmen. He took point, two of the Arrows stacking to his left and one to his right. Their arrowhead formation skirted around the smaller furballs already forming in the mass battle. They sped towards a group of Archeri ships, beelining it for the surface. It was a couple bombers and a few fighters, excorting what seemed to be a troop transport.

Notes and things

Some amount of Words

@tag

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[Fromikeable]

As the enemy neared and the commanders took their posts, Horst grunted in approval. Walking off the bridge, he finally made way for his position; the master command deck in the Flame's center. Arriving after a short turbolift journey, the entire deck was dark and clean, the majority of light coming from the various information centers, consoles, and holo-projectors. Admirals and generals of numerous ranks and tasks huddled around each, deliberating and conveying instructions as they came down the chains of command. One console projected the fighting at the Kalai Ri' Biro spaceport, another the impending assault on the Cerbozz Pit, and yet another displayed form after letter after encryption, the negotiation with the last remaining Hutt mongul on Tatooine streaming in as it happened.

Finally arriving at his spot at the master projector, Horst nodded to the various intelligence officers and commanders around him, the lot of them underlit somewhat with green light.

"Let's get to work. What's the situation with that thing?" A hand pointed at the project of the Cerbozz Pit, the giant crystal sticking out of it towering over its digital neighbors.

"The assault force is deploying under General Vyshaan. But it seems like the construction is almost done."

"Ready to launch?"

"Unknown."

Punching a few buttons on the master console, Horst created a channel to the bridges of both the Enduring Flame and the Regent, the computers responsible taking a long pause to layer both connections with a heavy level of encryption. When it finally established, Horst's voice growled to life to the commanders of both ships.

"Aright you two, here's the deal." Leaning forward on the console, Horst couldn't help but stare at the hologram as he spoke, as if staring it down would make it shrink.

"The more we push, the more likely they're gonna' try to hit us with two Spires at once. So, we gotta' make sure the first one's gone before they can." Punching another few buttons, Horst brought up a simplified version of the space battle just starting, the lines beginning to form.

"Smash the dreads through and get us up in that rock's face. We'll be able to tell you how to knock it out by the time you do." A glance at the staff about garnered confirmation via a series of nods.

[CaptainBonkers]

The blips representing the Republic fleets began moving towards the Archeri line of battle on the display hovering in the air before Havlen’s seat. The red symbols facing them, representing the Archeri remained in defensive formation between the JMOC forces and the spires for the moment. It was of course impossible to say how well they would be able to maintain their formations once the distance between the navies whittled down, though one would have assumed they should have been able to maintain cohesion. After all, what was the point of a hive mind if it did not help one control and coordinate its subsidiary parts exceptionally.

“You may commence when ready, admiral. I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible. I have more important things to attend to than exterminating sentient mushrooms.” Havlen’s tone was non-nonchalant, even dismissive but his feelings were anything but. The Regent would be in the forefront of any action against the Archeri spires and he was sitting on its bridge. Being a man whom had made his bones in the shadowy world of espionage and imperial politics, the bridge of a colossal warship charging at a massive swarm of enemies was the absolute last place Havlen would have liked to be.

However, one thing proper leadership required regardless of place and situation was composure. If those higher up in the hierarchy showed fear or weakness their subordinates were bound to pick up on it and multiply its effects. It was better to keep up a calm appearance and either be praised for one’s nerves or face death with the dignity befitting an Imperial Grand Moff.

“Yessir. Lieutenant, signal the fleet. They may engage the enemy at will. Same to you captain. Advance and engage the enemy forces.” the bridge became more alive as Sorans barked out the orders. Beyond the bridge’s windows the scenery moved as the Regent readjusted her course to line up with the intended target and then began her gradual approach. The ship was a mighty hammer, unparalleled in her power among Imperial ships but a speed demon she was not. The lighter craft would reach the enemy first and hopefully soften it enough that the heavier ships could simply push through and tear the spire apart.

Seemingly satisfied with how the staff on the board were operating, Sorans turned back to Havlen. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what do you consider more important than dealing with an existential threat to the galactic society?” she inquired.

“Why, keeping the rabble back home in line, of course. If I spend too much away from my real work, some of them might begin to think that they don’t have to obey Imperial authorities.” Havlen replied in a completely deadpan tone that left it unclear whether he was serious or not. The admiral for her part did not seem to wish to pursue the subject further and returned to observing the battle.

[Harukei]

"Attack run has already started."

Saul said in answer to Horst and Havlen. His eyes settled on the holographic representation of battle as the Republic Fleet began to move in unison, keeping a steady formation that would transform once the exchange of firepower had begun. A picket battlegroup had gone first, the diversionary force made from packs of frigates and corvettes led by destroyers designed for speed. He wanted to lure the Archeri, to put in range close enough for phalanxes of ships to put coordinated arcs of fire. Even if the flame was a powerful vessel much like the flagship of the Empire, he considered hubris to think that both ships could take on the spire. 

"Sir, bomber squadrons are reporting in."

The Admiral nodded to himself.  As he waged his options, his eyes flickered again moving through the data feeds and the incoming reports that came from the fleet. At least half a dozen wings with enough fire power to demolish an entire city and perhaps even more if they managed to strike at critical junctions of that crystalline vessel. But he would save those for later, he needed the combined firepower of every element if he hoped to make more than a dent into that monstrosity.  

"Admiral, picket fleet has begun to exchange fire with the enemy vessel."

"Tell them to retreat, orderly, keep firing at marks zero-point-five and zero-point-six."

He of course didn't have any illusion that the picket fleet would do significant damage. But the Hive behaved like an animal, albeit and intelligent one. Predatory instincts would take over self-preservation. And there is where they would strike. Saul leaned against his command console, typing orders for the lead captains of every battlegroup within the fleet and soon the different components began to spread in smaller formations that retained their wedge shape.

"Are we in weapon's range?"

Saul heard himself ask. 

"Yes sir, orders?"

The Admiral pondered for a brief second and saw the slow dance of void warfare unfold before him as ship began to take their position for the first united volley. 

"Arm missile pods, sections aurek to cresh, port side. Redirect power from auxiliary cores to turbo laser array." He then snapped his head towards the flight control station. "Flight control, order bathawk and bantha squadrons to alter their flight curse and prepare for engagement. Communications, transmit command orders to battlegroup grek to cover the retreat from the picket fleet."

With an unison yes sir, the bridge crew continued their work, their course taking them closer to one of the spires. 

"Admiral, enemy ship in range."

Saul stared one last time at the shape of the enemy vessel and pressed his lips together. 

"Open Fire. Launch missiles."

With his command targeted volleys of searing energy flew through the dark void of space in concentrated arrays from the ships around the Flame and those of the fleet. Missiles roared silently in the vacuum and soon the spire was covered with a flourishing display of fire blooms. 

[Fromikeable]

"Intrepid to Nimoy, next target is bearing L 37.9, B 7.23. Focus fir-"

"-oarding on decks 4 and 7, requesting assistance from Gel Squadron imm-"

"-contact with the Argo, fires appear to be breaking out through her stern."

"-Violet Leader, we're going in. Captain Heldro, requesting fire sup-"

"-ing fire, guns 12 and 24 are out, compensating with-"

The comms were exploding with information as the fleets began to colliding, the neatly drawn battle lines and formations becoming less and less clear as ships gave and take, advanced and retreated, pushed and pulled. The Archeri, for their part, displayed a level of organization most fleets could only dream of, every ship they commanded moving less like points on a chain of command and more like nerves on a mighty body. Each shot was responded to at the speed of thought, giving every action and reaction an eerily living sensation.

They weren't fighting a fleet. They were fighting a mind.

"Preliminary analysis of the Spire is complete, sir." One of the intelligence heads, Brigadier General Kofkta, came forward to the master command terminal, plugging into a data rod and beginning to upload it for the assembled commanders to view.

"What've we got?"

"Very, very dense crystal." A hologram of the Spire itself popped up adorned with notes, vectors, and approximations, live scanning data coming in by the second. "The barriers erected around it aren't shields. Jedi Master Holvorsheer knows more." Turning around, the general motioned at someone off to the distance. Forward they came, a older Zabrak woman dressed in tan robes, her hand held in her chin as she thought aloud.

"It seems to be a Force barrier, though its strength is unprecedented."

"It's gotta' be coming from somewhere."

"Data seems to be pointing to these points." The hologram refreshed with a myriad of points, the lot of them seemingly random across the Spire. Atop each, the hologram had place numerous tiny Archeri figures. "Scans are showing high concentrations of bodies at each point appearing to just be sitting there kneeling. If I didn't know better, I'd even say that they were meditating."

"How long can they keep it up?"

"Hard to say." The Jedi scratched the side of her head, more in stress than confusion. "We think they're directing the energies within the crystal rather than producing it themselves. But the amount of focus needed to handle such a task... it's no wonder they need so much of their collective to do so."

"So we make them break their focus." Snapping his fingers, Horst pointed over at Admiral Valva, a Human woman to his right. "Get me the codes, we're opening up the main batteries." As she saluted and got to work, he looked back to the master Jedi, looking for confirmation.

She, in exchange, hesitated. "Hypothetically, if we focused our fire, we might disrupt the patterns too quickly for them to keep up with. That will only buy us a moment though; we would need to immediately strike as many of the collections as possible before they could reorganize."

As Admiral Valva returned, the master command console whirred to life, a number of small scanners popping out along the top. Looking around, Horst nodded, and each commander assembled around placed their hand forward to be scanned. Offering his last, he cleared his voice, trying to lessen his accent as much as possible for a moment.

"Authorization 5 21 603 4710 Aurek Alpha Gorgon. Chief of General Staff Horst Stellar." The console was quiet for a moment before humming lightly, the scanners retracting. As it did, an automated message began to sound through the Enduring Flame.

"Attention all personnel. Armament restrictions have been lifted."

Punching the comm button again, Horst refreshed the battle map before them all, grunting.

"Saul, you've got the main batteries unlocked. I'm sending you both new targets. Focus fire to break the barrier, then light up as many as you can before it comes back up."

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

Hal and his fighters closed in. He requested a voice link between all four fighters, it was quickly established and Hal said, "Those transports don't touch the ground, no matter what." The other pilots agreed, they knew that the forces on the ground could use all the help they could get. As they drew closer, Hal said, "Loose." He dipped the nose of his fighter, the others spread out, keeping a wider formation.

If the cannons of the larger ships were loud before, they were deafening now. It seemed every ship in the sector was firing at something now. Hal glanced up and behind him, through the cockpit, he saw all types of colors being thrown around space. Blues and reds flashed in the blackness. Dreadnaughts, corvettes and everything in between tried pushing towards the spires. They were pushed back and tried again, crashing against the swarming Archeri ships. 

He snapped his head back to the task at hand, they were nearly upon the Archeri now. One of his wingmen fired a missile. It streaked towards the transport, it seemed like it was about to connect, slipping past a line of point defense fire. Just before it hit, a small fighter leaped into its path. The fighter was obliterated, but the transport kept moving. The other fighters jumped into action, altering course and engaging Hal and his ships. The bombers and transport changed direction slightly, still set for the surface of the planet.

Hal fired with his cannon. A quick burst ripped through the black, the closing fighter dipped to the right. Hal let loose another stream of bullets and pulled his ship towards one of his wingmen. The wingman saw Hal's movement and moved to cover him, firing on the Archeri. The ship was peppered with shots, fires bursting out over it before breaking into pieces. "Nice," Hal said simply, altering his course again. Four Archeri remained. Two were chasing down one of his men. Hal dragged the stick to one side, firing his thrusters. The ship seemed to float for a moment before streaking towards the Archeri. Hal got a missile lock, the missile growled in his ear until Hal pressed a button on his control panel sending it furiously tracking down the enemy ship. It slammed into the tail of the starship, the payload blasting through the armor there and blowing the back half of the ship off entirely. Hal saw something humanoid get sucked out the back of the crippled ship into the vacuum of space.

The second Archeri ship, however, fired it's blasters into Hal's wingman before Hal could shoot. The strange cannons seemed to blow through the hull of the friendy ship, leaving a strange substance behind that looked to be melting through what it touched. Hal ripped into the ship with his cannon. It's wing separated from the main hull, a second volley from Hal's gun struck the main body, blowing it to pieces. The friendly ship was fatally stuck though. Hal wasn't sure if the pilot was still alive, his ship was traveling in a shaky line. Hal pulled away to re-group with the two remaining pilots. One had suffered a shot to the aft section of his ship, but it seemed operational. "Get to the transports!" Hal said over the voice link.

They pressed the bombers next, whose point defense and anti-ship turrets opened fire. The previously wounded ship asked to return to the Regent for repairs, Hal said, "No, we finish this." The pilot started to say that he was suffering from interior damage. Hal saw a volley of lasers arcing towards them, he pulled to the left, but they slammed into the wounded ship, scattering it to the stars. Hal and his last wingman fired missiles, disabling a pair of turrets. Hal looked for any electronics onboard the enemy ships, looking to connect with his other missile types. Nothing. He sighed and closed with guns. The bombs the Archeri were carrying detonated still inside the bomber's belly, dusting the ship.

After dealing with the second bomber they caught the troop transport, sending clouds of bullets towards it. They peppered the ship, punching holes in the fuselage and into the cockpit. The ship kept trying to reach the surface, but it was poorly armored and fell quickly.

Hal evaluated his own ship, checking for damage, it seemed fine, his wingman reported little to no damage as well. "Let's get back to a carrier," Hal suggested, they needed to re-arm.

They had to dance around the ferocious battle that was raging as strong as ever. They spotted a carrier that seemed to be in one of the less intense areas of battle. His wingman observed, "They're really opening up now." It looked like the larger ships were trying to force their way past the alien barriers on the Spire with pure force. Hal set his course and watched the light show.

Notes and things

Some amount of Words

@tag

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[CaptainBonkers]

“Is there a problem, admiral?”

A frown had appeared on Sorans’ face after she had inspected some reports streaming in from the various imperial ships. Havlen had focused mostly on the large picture, making sure that none of the fleet commanders were deviating from the plan without there being an obvious reason for improvisation. So far so good, though it seemed to his admittedly untrained eye that the advance had begun to slow down significantly across the line of battle.

“The Spires appear to be protected by a protective Force wall, sir.” the admiral replied pensively. “It is proving somewhat difficult to pierce. I’ve requested the Sith Lords that have elected not to pilot fighters to try and divine if they could disrupt it or if there is a weak spot we might exploit to bypass it but so far there has been do definite response.”

A frown spread across Havlen’s brow as well. That did indeed sound like a problem that might prove troublesome to remove. Force was one of those things that had a nasty habit of making itself an unwelcome variable in otherwise good plans. Especially since countering its influence usually required the help of Sith Lords.

“Order all capital ships to focus their barrage in the same general area of the Force wall. Lets see if we can tear it down. At the same time, request that all the Sith Lords divining focus their efforts to disrupt the wall in the same spot, if possible, and then find a volunteer pilot to see if we can send fighters through that disruption. Oh, and inform the Republic forces about the wall. I suspect they already know about it but we’d better make sure.”

If they could get a few squadrons of both fighters and bombers through, they could wreak havoc on the spires. That was of course, if there was enough space for them to operate between the surface of the Spire and the barrier. Well, the Empire would surely respect the sacrifice the first pilot made to see if it was possible to get between the two.

[Fromikeable]

The floor of the command deck vibrated just a hair as the Enduring Flame began to come about, pointing its nose just off from the Spire. Across its hull, the sight of guns moving from resting positions to firing angles was visible, the mightiest among them being the immense turbolaser batteries. When all of them came to their proper orientation, there was only a second's worth of wait.

Then the devastation began.

The cannons began to fire in a continuous pattern, each reloading and adjusting as its neighbor hurled plasma with unparalleled might. The entirety of the Enduring Flame became hidden behind a moving wall of bolts the size of corvettes, every streaking red shot like a lightning bolt across the black ink of orbital space. Each and every one slammed into the purple barrier like an arrow, the accompanying explosions bathing the closest ships in flashes of orange and red. From the planet below, it no doubt appeared that the mighty purple star was subject to a vicious neon rain. From orbit, the bombardment was nearly blinding, JMOC and Archeri ships alike altering course and avoiding the firing lane like the certain death it was.

It was when the Revenant followed suit from the opposite side, its nose dipping downward as the guns across its top made a similar showing of green fire, that a cry rang out through the Chorus. The vicious, offended sound of first blood.

The Archeri fleet immediately began to respond, every single ship seeming to hesitate before dropping their tasks with wild abandon and zooming for the dreadnoughts. A fair few found their demise when their hesitation gave their opponents openings, but it mattered not; bodies were disposable, ships merely being larger bodies.

But such savagery could not be allowed to continue.

The barrier around the Spire began to fail, small holes shifting across it at varying speeds as the Archeri aboard struggled to keep up with their competition. The guns littered across the crystal vessel's surface responded as the Archer fleets' charge began to hit, violet bolts of impressive size being lobbed at both encroaching dreadnoughts. The streams of red and green were answered with streams of violet, swarms of fighters, groups of ships, and almost every gun the Archeri could muster. It only took a minute for both the Enduring Flame and the Revenant to become the nuclei of the battle, the shields of each glowing radiantly as they were assaulted from all sides.

"All JMOC ships, protect the dreadnoughts! All small ships, get through that barrier and start handling those targets!"

[CaptainBonkers]

The whole of the ship shook as it took more of the Archeri fire. Havlen did his best to maintain a calm exterior, acting as if he was completely unaware that the enemy was trying to hammer them to smithereens or at least ignoring it with disdain. However, he was fairly certain that cracks were beginning to appear. His hands were cold and clammy with nervous sweat and he could not stop his fingers from fidgeting with the armrests of his seat. The shields were holding, though, and other capital ships were moving in to protect the dreadnought Havlen was currently on, but this only alleviated the growing worry inside of him.

At least the battle was going well enough. There had been casualties but the JMOC forces were nowhere near having to retreat. In fact, the tide could be said to have beginning to turn in their favor. The Spire was exposed and under fire but it was often in these moments that worst mistakes could be made. Snatching a defeat from the jaws of victory was a feat easily obtained. Besides, a victory would be of little consequence if he did not live to see it. Still, even through his own fear, Havlen had to wonder if the hive mind of the Archeri was worried? If it was afraid? It certainly responded with aggression to protect its vital Spires but was it capable of actually feeling things?

Havlen had hard time believing it wasn’t, at least on some primal self-preserving level, afraid of the might barrage of fire it was under. The Regent alone had to put the fear of death into anything in the receiving end. Her main guns were strong enough to glass small continents if focused, or so he had been told by the engineers. They might have been exaggerating for effect but the fact remained that there were very few things that could withstand a proverbial broadside from the Regent.

Once again the Regent shook as Archeri fire collided against her shields. However, this time the barrage she sent backwards broke off a large chunk of its target. It wouldn’t be too long now.

[Fromikeable]

As the Flame, Revenant, and Spire communicated by sheer force of fire, the ships around them became muddled in a dance of maneuvers and counter-maneuvers. An Archeri corvette tried to speed past an Imperial destroyer only to be accosted by a squadron of Republic bombers. A trio of Archeri cruisers focused fire on a Republic battleship while two Imperial corvettes rushed to its aid. Squadrons of mismatched Archeri ships orbited both the dreadnoughts as they slowly orbited the Spire, JMOC ships chasing and fleeing from them in equal measure. Comms channels crackled incessantly with noise, the voices of the galaxy's collective captains and sailors ringing in discord against the singular harmony that hissed from the armada.

Die for your chaos!

The Verses seemed to accent that point, the five of them charging into battle toward the dreadnoughts. Even as the Spire hammered the shields on both, the expanded battleships trained their guns on other regions of both megaships' shields, focusing fire in a bid to open up second fronts. Klaxons blared aboard the Enduring Flame as engineering reports filtered in by the second, power readouts and shield reports flooding the command center in equal measure. Even as repair teams commandeered the trams and engineers diverted the power grid, the Flame seemed, for the first time in its short life, to buckle under the strain, alerts and alarms rampant.

"Admiral!"

"Yes sir!"

"All port guns, rip that fucking thing to shreds."

The effect was instant. With a moment's realignment, one side of the Flame's guns trained upon one of the assailing Verses. In another instant's worth of time, they opened fire with the same tremendous fury that the Spire had endured, the hail of blaster bolts like the densest meteor storm of doom. The first few shots slammed into the battleship's own purple barriers. The next few punched through, slamming into its patchwork armor. The next few still ate through that, tearing into the ship's very body.

By the time the first round of shots were done, the Verse in question began to combust, its frame being raggedly cut down the middle. It only took a second round for it cleave entirely in half, the trees and fauna aboard visibly wilting as shrapnel and bodies were flung off.

The sound of offense that emanated from the Chorus, somewhere between a snort and a snarl, was less a graceful song and more a choir gasping in outrage.

The second Verse immediately tried to veer away, only to find its purple barriers being skinned by a duo of Imperial battlecruisers as they rushed by. Fire upon the Flame ceased as it began to trade broadsides with the encroaching ships, its guns too preoccupied to deal with a Republic battleship coming from below and beginning to open fire. As the purple barrier that protected it began to buckle, the repossessed Hutt vessel seemed to panic, turning its bow away from the battle entirely toward the stars, its engines glowing to maximum thrust. The trio of assailing ships gave it no such easy escape, their first shots through the shield damaging each glowing thruster.

With the pressure off, it wasn't long until the Flame's guns resumed their barrage on the Spire in full. Through the widening holes in the crystal's barrier, corvettes and fighters zipped through, each bombarding the known clusters of Archeri. With each one coated with fire, the barrier seemed to get thinner and dimmer, the holes reaching one another to form giant tears. Even as the surface guns began to repulse the small JMOC crafts' assault, the unthinkable had already been done. With another volley fired in unison from the dreadnoughts, the purple shield disappeared entirely, flickering out like the galaxy's largest hologram.

"Tell every ship not fighting for its life to drop what it's doing. I want every gun we have on that crystal now."

[CaptainBonkers]

The hull of Regent was shaking at regular intervals as the dreadnought's gun batteries focused their fire at the spire. Less fire than before was returned; likely the Archeri consciousness was having trouble choosing a target with majority of the battleships and cruisers battering it. Havlen wondered if it had trouble dividing its attention with so many threats around something so precious to it. It wasn’t a supercomputer after all. It’s intelligence was based in organic structures, connected via the Force yes, but ultimately housed in operative husks that were akin to flesh and blood, unnaturally durable as they might have been. Could it perform as accurate threat assessment as an AI or did it have to employ computers for that? Did it even employ computers? Wasn’t an AI, an intelligence that couldn’t become part of their damnable chorus, an abomination to their consciousness, after all?

His eyes wondered from the scene beyond the bridge’s windows to the holographic display showing the strategic view of the battle. There were noticeably fewer dots representing Imperial ships making their way across the grid but the line was still holding and more importantly advancing. Had the Archeri been able to break, Havlen would have wagered they were approaching the point where they would have called quits and fled to hyperspace. However, their fungal opponents had time and again proven their ability to hold the line despite of suffering hideous casualties and those times had been at times when they were not protecting their precious Spires. They’d fight to the death. Or at least to the point the Spires went down and hopefully drove them to madness or at least into deep enough despair to force them to where ever they had come from.

As many a dot as had disappeared during the battle the casualties still appeared to be within acceptable parameters. Hardest to replace would of course be the ships and perhaps some of the more talented officers whom had gone up in flames with them. However, mostly that was a question of credits and promoting some new blood up the ladder. The Navy was likely going to have a proper headache with all of it but fortunately for Havlen none of it was his problem in any capacity. As soon as this sordid business with the Archeri was over and done with he could get back to his real work which consisted of babysitting the entire population of the Empire, instead of just a bunch of admirals with inflated egos.

“It seems that our target might be beginning to come apart.” Havlen said. “The Republic fleet seems to be focusing their fire on their target. I suppose we ought to do the same.”

The admiral nodded and relayed the orders forward. Havlen supposed that it had been a touch redundant of him to issue the order; it was unlikely that a cadre of experienced officers the Imperial forces present could boast would have been unable to do so without his input but it certainly seemed like something he ought to have done. Havlen was, after all, in charge of the Imperial side of this operation as hands off as his approach might have been.

[Fromikeable]

If there had ever been a war between gods, it no doubt would have looked like the space above Nar Shaddaa. Plasma beat back the inky darkness as explosions began to glow in earnest. Republic and Imperial ships started to point as many guns as they could in the same direction, their shields and armor rippling from Archeri attacks, their fires and hulls bursting as they all fulfilled the single order.

And within seconds, all of the bolts were moving at the same target.

Each slammed into the Spire in a dazzling, continuous show. The smaller bolts clustered about the rock croppings and guns installed on the crystal’s sides, the varying angles they came in at resulting in everything from the occasional ricochet to tiny puffs of breaking rock and exploding munitions. The larger bolts were far more difficult to watch, each producing an explosion that burned the eyes. Entire chunks of rock and crystal were blown clear as the best-aimed of the bunch dug through the surface, tearing into the minerals savagely enough to leave craters.

The Chorus let out a new sound. Aggressive. Furious. Offended. Wounded.

The dreadnoughts approached ever closer, the Enduring Flame charging past the wreckage of one of the Verses as the Regent pushed past the last layer of the Spire’s escort. The final stage was set as the three main dancers came into position, the Spire a mighty purple beacon and the dreadnoughts on either side defiant, charred shadows.

With a series of final shifts, their final dance began with a glaring trade of red, green, and purple light.

Bolts the size of corvettes hailed on the deepest craters, tunneling their way deeper into the crystal’s center with every subsequent explosion. The rocks about its surface visibly trembled as each dreadnought’s shield glowed bright under the returned fire, the streams of purple bolts slowly lessening. The moment the bolts starting getting through to the crystal’s very core was hard to miss, the Chorus letting out that same new sound with a newfound intensity. With every shot, every brilliant explosion of red and green, the sound was repeated, ever louder, ever quicker, ever more strained.

Ever more desperate.

Stop! You cannot! We will not allow-

The first crack splintered outward like a bolt of lightning, the exploding plasma instantly filling it. The second and third cracks came even faster, the bursts of energy forcing them open into the fourth, fifth, sixth, and so on. Chunks of crystal the size of cruisers began to be blown free, the rest exploding into jagged clouds of debris. Purple light poured out of each crack, the energy contained within the Spire escaping in every way it could.

We come to save you! We must-

The JMOC ships began to beat hasty retreats as the dreadnoughts closed in. The Spire could no longer return fire, and their shields now had to repel everything from dust to chunks of the crystal itself, a few breaking through and scratch the hulls. The bodies of the Archeri could be seen running across the surface of the crystal as the atmosphere formerly harbored within vented with explosive speed, many in pieces. Turbolaser bolts zipped by them as the cracks all expanded even further, both dreadnoughts adjusting their aim.

Do not! Do not! DO N-

With a final volley, the explosion didn’t look like that of a ship. Energy and plasma expanded outward like that of a bursting supernova, waves of each pulsing and rattling everything from the ships in space to the atmosphere of the moon below. The Spire itself cracked into three major pieces, one hurtling down toward the moon below, one hurtling out into the solar system, and a third sent soaring through the assembled fleets, taking a fair few Archeri and JMOC ships with it. Both dreadnoughts found themselves shoved violently backward, engines flaring to retain control, hulls charred and shields aglow with strain.

A cry of pain rang out from the planet below, far less intense than before. What had once been the head-pounding scream was now a distant bellow.