Jun. 5th, 2009

stuck_mynock: (Default)
When the Dragonfly jumps out of hyperspace at Onderon, its inhabitants are met with the sight of a lot of wreckage.

There are ruined Republic ships and ruined Sith ships, floating around in pieces of varying size. There's no sign, however, of any current battle.

"Maybe we were too late," Atton mumbles, tapping a few keys. An image of a woman in a dress and shawl appears. "Or not."

"Only one ship and three people? We had hoped for an army."

"Maybe one will turn up later. What happened?"

"The Sith retreated. They have offered us a day to surrender, or make preparations for another attack."

"Oh. That's - that's quite nice of them, actually. Cuddly."
stuck_mynock: (Default)
"Position the capital ships behind the blockade," Atton's saying into an earpiece as he checks his weapons. "Keep the Basilisks and fighters ready. When the ships jump in, we'll do hit and run attacks. Is there any way to set up an ion charge on the other side of the blockade?"

Tapping it again.

"Is the throne room locked down? Good. Keep on establishing containment fields for the Sky Ramp, and empty the ciy."

It's been a busy day.
stuck_mynock: (Default)
Koren stares out at the distant sea of rubble around Onderon, and amongst it the swarms of tiny lights moving towards his fleet.

“My lord,” a voice drifts over from one side, “our weapons are ready. We can destroy the rubble and move through towards Onderon.”

“No.” Koren flicks one hand up, drawing up a closer display of the objects moving through the rubble. The red and whites of Republic fighters are mixed in with the blues and golds of the Onderon guard and the silvers of the Basilisk war droids. “To do so might push the rubble towards the planet and the moon. I want the palace and the tomb to be structurally unharmed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his advisor bow low.

“This is only a minor inconvenience,” he continues. “The remains of a shattered fleet are not going to stop us. Dispatch fighters and dropships.”

-----


There are thousands of fighters, flooding out of the Wyrm. We’re outnumbered ten to one. We’re making a dent in their numbers, but there are too many for us to keep them all out. The dropships are - ...”

-----


A dropship crashes down into the city square, hatches opening to admit a stream of armoured soldiers, guns raised and firing as the nearby turrets swung towards them. With a shriek, one soldier falls, armour falling apart around him.

Behind them, the dropship clanks, casting off its outer shell to reveal a crab-like war machine beneath. It growls mechanically, legs sliding out as it lifts itself up and started walking, guns sliding out. With a hum and a crash, the main gun fires, lighting up the city as it blows through a building, sending turrets flying and crackling.

The march continues on towards the Sky Ramp, blocked by a row of shiny, silver droids. As they turn and started firing, the soldiers hurry away, ducking behind buildings as the war machine points its main gun at them with a long hum.

As the droids go flying and clattering, another dropship hist the city, and a third.

-----


Atton taps his earpiece again.
“They’ve breached the Sky Ramp,” to Will and Guppy. “Be ready.”
stuck_mynock: (Close.)
The trip to the Wyrm is fairly uneventful. They slide into its vast, almost empty landing bay and land silently, lights flicking off one by one.

Atton peers out of the cockpit speculatively, adjusting his gauntlet. The walls are metal, that much is clear, but wound through with something dark, organic and porous, that pulsates with the heartbeat coming from deeper within the ship.

"Nice."

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Atton Rand

August 2012

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