Thank you very much Vykes. I was worried that it might be too small to stand in as the medium base ship coming out, but from that shot, it will work perfectly
Forces of the Ceknell Subsector
Dockyard Blaze
Warning sigils flashed across the corvettes control panel as the master alarms bleated in the smoke filled bridge.
"Evasive maneuvers!" The bearded garrison captain howled. The imposing baritone rang above the roaring crackle of fires that had already engulfed the port data banks.
The CR-90 rolled to its side as the Victory-class took another parting shot at it. The bolt struck something as the corvettes frail frame shook violently, spilling the helmsmen from his position and slamming the bawling commander against the wall.
He dragged himself up from the grated floor, his face scalded and knuckles split open as the blood seeped down from a half dozen injuries. "Keep it together 'Gor!" He clapped the lithe helmsmen on the shoulder.
"Cap'n Korit!" one of the few remaining bridge crew called from a bank of partially shattered displays at the aft control bank.
"What have you got for he Fargus?" He spat out a loose tooth.
The bloodied bridge officer looked over his shoulder. "Yornik in engineering reports port side engine compartment has been spaced. We're losing atmosphere and-"
The ship convulsed as if gripped by a spastic seizure. With a final spark spitting spasm a quieting drone filled the cabin as a telltale sound reached his ears. Like a exhalation, the electric whirl swiftly dimmed and fell silent. Fargus Neistel looked at the conduits that ran the length of the bridge.
"Shields collapsed . Capacitors are welded closed."
The captain barged his way forward , toggling a few communicator levers and pulling on a headset as Helmsmen Gortag wrestled the ship to port. The ship bucked, then dove down sharply to escape the tracer fire of the Victory-class they sped past.
"All ships, this is Korlitz"
There was a flicker and flash off to starboard. Fate Revealed 's midsection disintegrated , splitting the CR-92 in two. Its bright white hull was swiftly consumed in a vibrant fireball. The corvette twisted awkwardly, trailing vapid blue flames from its breached plasma drive. The midspar of the Crossfire struck it moments later, turning the fiery blaze into a massive conflagration as the Nebulon-B's remains slammed into the gutted CR-92.
Korlitz snarled loudly, "all ships, proceed behind the main fort batteries, get those flotillas away and prep the jump to hyperspace. Full throttle, accelerate to flank speed!"
"Copy Korry!" A woman's grainy voice chimed over the holonet.
"Cap'n, we're just about done with these slippery Tie bastards! Do we gotta break off too?" The howl of ion engines blared in the background. As if to prove a point, an aged emerald fixed-wing fighter dove past, wing-tip cannons blazing and catching a TIE fighter amidship. The Imperial craft burst into flames as the bat-like craft pulled up away from the resulting fireball.
"Get your Headhunters out of there, Lott. I'd rather you not get yourself blown up after having a ball. Head to rally point beta and make the jump. I'll be right behind you!"
A deep rasping sigh filtered just a little above the roar of the fighter craft's engines. "Copy that. Bat Lead, breaking off."
The CR90 banked hard as the trailing fire of the Victory-class star destroyer spat out ineffectual bolts towards the far-swifter craft. It wasn't the massive lumbering behemoths that turned, but the dagger-like corvette that had followed in their mammoth shadows. The Raider pulled into a hard turn and raced towards them, seeking to cut off their escape. The cloud of Imperial fighters had been thinned, and here and there, the red fire-fly specks returned to the relative safety of the Raider's shadow. Meanwhile, the emerald-streaked Z-95's formed up with the small fleet of ships that had broken through the approaching Imperial wall.
Two corvettes and an escort frigate slipped through the net, ducking behind still blazing gun batteries on old asteroid plinths. The fort's last line of defense fell moments later to a barrage of concussion missiles. Sanguidon station broke apart, its century old metal spars disintegrating in massive plumes of flowing fire and an ever expanding fireball. A sudden flash engulfed it completely as the reactor went critical, leaving a searing after image in its place and the silhouette of two star destroyers.
No matter how damaged the Destroyers were, the way was open to the caches of the old fort armories and machine shops.
Kolitz remained unnaturally calm. The small fleet off the starboard side blinked, and one by one, disappeared into hyperspace.
After the final fighter disappeared, Fargus glanced back over his shoulder with a worried furrow etched on his brow. "Cap-"
"Gah!" With a gutteral growl, Koritz slammed his bloodied fist into the bulkhead, tore a broken chair from its flimsy wire mounting, and threw it towards the blazing console. It bounced off with a crackle and tumbled across the floor.
Gortag blanched, his sallow cheeks sucked in as he held a breath and adjusted his headset to blot out the inevitable stream of curses and obscenities hurled by the irate task force commander. The willowy man reached for the hyperspace lever. With a sudden jerk and heart-stopping pull, the vessel slipped into hyperspace.
Not far behind them, the pair of Victory-class star destroyers settled in, nosing towards the enormous blank-walled edifice of the old star fort complex. A small array of cargo shuttles flitted out from their hangar bays. The pillaging of the Old fort had begun.
...
Thanks Salted, mate! Always glad to hear that I can help. And yeah, for the record, I think medium is best too
Lets see, as for other updates, I've been thinking of redoing some pictures. I switched some over in the painting section thread but I was thinking of something more too. So here's a bit of a test. Thoughts?
... scum sucking sector sycophant sits..
What a super suave statement that was! Respect.
Wow
No, really, that's about all I can really say about your work. The paintjobs are utterly fantastic, and I am loving the background fluff as well. This has inspired me to try something similar with my own burgeoning collection, and have a bit of background for each vessel
Love the backgrounds! Great work as always!
+++Transmission repeat: 29:06:1102 +++
-peat, this is commodore Arlyk Graz of his majesty's ship Coronal Spear to all loyal Imperial forces. My command is under attack by pirate forces. We are en route to ISB rendezvous point BA-one. Enemy vessel identified as Yrellion Skye , two corvettes, and an escort frigate. We've lost the Indelible Spirit, and the Forge Lord has taken significant damage.
Our TIE Ln have been thrown back by an enemy fighter screen and their escort frigate. Our units have taken eighty percent losses and have been recalled to close-in protection, but the renegade fleet has circled back for a second pass.
Repeat, this is commodore Arlyk Graz of his majesty's ship Coronal Spear to all loyal Imperial forces. Imperial security bureau task force Pelatine-four lost. Avoid the Callipsean way!
+++Transmission terminated: 29:06:1104+++
Player's note: I had a fun game, though me and my opponent were a little out of practice. But long story short. a rebel MC80 led fleet inched forward outside of long range and the VSD got bloodied and the Nebulon B and X-wing cover shot up more than half the Tie squadrons. It ended up with an 8-2 Rebel victory. I am wondering about replacing the X-wings with YT1300.
Thanks mates! Broba, I'll admit, Arboe is my favourite to write for
She's just plain odd for an Imperial but a fun one. Thanks Diablomo, glad you decided to take the plunge into Armada as well! And I'm thrilled to be of some help too, love to see and hear about your fleet too, eh? 54NCH32 does some great campaign work too, so might really be worth a look!
Glad to hear you like it too BigMac. I'm rather liking the backgrounds too. I'm mulling over doing various backgrounds for different fleets.
I'm thinking of using my Rebel list for Regionals. I wonder if I should post it up in the List sub forum. Oh, and a last little picture of my undersold MVP, the Agage: an escort Nebulon with Lando that survived an Opening Salvo VSD shot.
I'm super excited to see what happens when Waves 3 and 4 makes their appearance in Ceknell.
Thanks a ton mate, Cap'n! I'm hoping to have a game tomorrow so we might get to see a bit of Ceknell even before the magic that's Wave III and Wave IV.
But yeah, colour me excited for it all too. Which sounds a little crazy, but I'm raring to go. Now for the real trick; I need some way to convince some other players that their games are less inherently interesting than Armada
before
the next wave drops. Otherwise I'll be forced to report on some small scale Ceknell through Aturi based fun.
But yeah, those transports in particular are going to make a world of different for narrative aspects! I'm certainly in the scheming mood, and the 'check the upcoming page' mood for that matter.
Blasted double posts. Anyway, some 'tide ya over' pictures are probably in order.
Wow, Vykes! You've done some impressive work! Where do you get your custom miniatures, like the modified frigate and stuff?
Wow, Vykes! You've done some impressive work! Where do you get your custom miniatures, like the modified frigate and stuff?
Right here . If you get anything yourself, go with the "Frosted Ultra Detail" (FUD). It is worth the extra cost.
Wow, Vykes! You've done some impressive work! Where do you get your custom miniatures, like the modified frigate and stuff?
Right here . If you get anything yourself, go with the "Frosted Ultra Detail" (FUD). It is worth the extra cost.
Thanks!
Thanks mates, aye, thaaat be where I get most of this stuff and Salty's 100% right on FUD! There's one or two small things from Tsalt too (Z95's, Assault Gunboats, and missile boats, not sure I ever showed the missile boats now that I think about it). Hopefully we can start this up again. And to that end...
One Good Turn
“And the fort has fallen? You're absolutely sure of that?”
“Yisssss, my massster.”
“Unexpected... most unexpected.” metal creaked and groaned as the heavy throne swiveled on its enormous dais. Commodore Lylent relaxed, one leg leisurely crossed over the other as he steepled his fingers. The renegade regent pointedly turned away from the jewel bedecked reptilian emissary and stared out the massive viewport of the
Yrellion Skye
.
Under his auspice, a small battlefleet had formed up for an informal inspection outside the orbital factory revolving around the Scythe's systems guttering crimson star. Several flights of Y-wings screamed by the window, ruby engines blazing as their modified YT transports skimmed by moments later. A thin smirk crossed the gaunt man's face as he settled back into the plush seat.
“And Ishkat caught and destroyed an ISB fleet headed to Bel Assar station?”
“Yisss, my massster.” The reptilian envoy's tongue all but lapped the gleaming black ferrocrete floor.
Lylent's sudden chortle caused the reptile's head to dip lower. The pirate lord snapped his fingers, summoning a pair of heavily armed Ashtek warriors.
“Fleets don't just appear and disappear. The loss of a whole task force means that the ISB is pulling back from untennable positions, or preparing for a major assault. Lets make it costly for them either way. Mastell, my good lizard,” he waited until the reptile's amber eyes were fixed on him, “Increase the bounties on all Imperial traffic through the Callipsean corridor. Strike like lightning, cripple the hyperspace corridors and force them to inaction. Sow mines, initiate fighter attacks on hyperspace buoys, have our raiders hit all the ports along the route, every shuttlecraft and military transport are now targets, then slip in with the refugees. We'll paralyze the Imperials and gut them before they know what's happened.”
There was a mirthless laugh as Lylent clenched his fist and looked out at the S
idonean Dream
, and its slightly smaller manta-like counterpart, the
Halberd
. The massive Mon Calamari warships ploughed past the patchwork fleet like a shark through a shoal of minnows. On its wings were a pair of sleek azure frigates and dozens of fighter flights, spearheaded by his own Ashtek Clanners.
“And you, clanner, send word to Senche. He is to take up a station on the bridge of the
Sidonean Dream
as a request on behalf of my good self. I'm sure the Alliance will understand the need for an integrated command component in our push. Lizards and gentlemen, I think I'll want to pay Pelatine a visit. Oh, and tell our reluctant Havashin friends that I would like a walking tour of their production facility there. And they can show us around that Imperial academy while we're at it.”
The Ashtek warrior saluted, clasping a gauntlet to his left breast and turning on his heels to deliver the message. The second remained with an ever watchful eye on the reptile still prostrate before Lylent.
“Mastell.” Lylent addressed the reptilian aid , “The Imperials can make such wonderful tributary toys and trinkets. Have you seen their Imperial-class Star Destroyers in person? My word, they are a delight. I think I would like one... yes. And I know just how to get one, more or less."
The man chortled, a quiet but threatening echo across the stateroom. He turned back to the viewport and watched over the battle group forming up in the nebula, "Do pop over to Port Eikron or perhaps Allutia on your way out. Relate to their defacto leader that I'm aware of how upsetting the loss of his home must be. It was uncouth that he wasn't properly initiated into the game of Ceknell politics. He may have lost a friend in Hackett, but I wouldn't mind filling that void. As the upcoming governor of Pelatine and soon to be Moff of Ceknell, I'm sure it would be acceptable. So, send my apologies, my regards, and a bottle of my finest Corellian whiskey.”
...
Well, lets see if I can get a few story bits up to get into the swing of things, -then- I can get all my screen assets back.
Edited
by Vykes
An Unwelcome Lull
Silence, the long interminable lull settled on the room even as the shock wore off. Reylk's pale eyes searched the messenger in a few studious moments before nodding. "Inform Korlitz that he is welcome with the delegation. Do relay my sympathy for his lost crew"
The young woman merely nodded once, "At once, lord." Reylk didn't even have time to balk at the title. The Arkanian turned his back as the ensign of the Eikron defence force clicked her heels and hurried out the door. The thick black metal slid closed with a hiss, and Reylk steadied himself against the control panel.
The projections had been right, an unknown Imperial task force that he'd thought would be Kassik's last gift of outside reinforcements was something else. This Task Force Citadel weren't ISB, and they weren't Hackett's, so they had to be from Sector Command. They had slipped past him at Eggression and bypased Allutia's shipyards. The same shipyards he hoped would give him a distinct advantage. Now the metal scaffolding and aged shipwrights seemed far more hollow than they had days ago. He'd already lost a frigate and a pair of CR92's by not remaining to deter that fleet.
Taking a seat, he opened the shakily reached for his dataslate and tapped the hololith. A small sector map popped up. The dozens of numeric streams that flashed across various hyperspace routes and systems. Port Eirkon's numbers had dropped considerably as the Imperial task force stripped its caches and production lines down to its bones. They didn't seem like they'd be content to leave before they sucked out every last bit of marrow, leaving just a withered husk.
For all the talk of their grand attempt, things had become a great deal more complicated. The defacto lord of the Lentarra Corridor leaned on a com link toggle, "Arboe, it's Reylk; tell me that you have some good news."
There was a faint crackle, then the boisterous woman's chirpy voice, "I don't have good news, I have great news! One of our major industrial families, the Kolishna Mining Corporation have declared their support for our cause. It seems that the local governors have, ahem... 'neglected' to reveal an older series of dockyard projects. Seems Kassik was more shrewd than Hackett would want to admit."
Reylk studied the numbers but didn't see any difference across the inbound-outbound data. "Well, then do be the bearer of good news and tell me what exactly I should be happy about."
There was the barest pause, "Two mothballed Victory-class Star Destroyers, the
Octavi
and
Malice
with tie fighter support to spare. They're VSD-One's, so don't expect too much out of them, but both seem sound. I'm having some engineering teams transferred from the
Pegasus
to reactivate their secondary reactors. Then we'll see how much work they need. There's also an inactive Arquiten-class light cruiser."
"We don't necessarily have the crew to spare to man that many new warships." Reylk replied with a sigh.
"No, we don't. But we have enough key personnel that we can recruit spacers from Allutia to get the job done. Most people here are loyal to the ruling family, so that's something to consider."
Reylk continued, "and we may not have the supplies to repair any critical system faults."
"I'm sure we can make do with the help from the Kolishna family. Besides, I may have another surprise you." There was a faint pause.
"Go on." Reylk skimmed the numbers, mentally calculating if three new warships could be serviced. Already he set out to split up his forces into two battle groups.
"I know someone who may be of some help. I can bring them up if you like, Camlee's got most of the inspection crews covered here so I can slip away."
The Arkanian officer clicked his tongue to his cheek, "Alright, bring them up."
A Pale Shadow
"
A
h, Director Tanel. Please sit." Hackett's chiseled face crinkled into a smile not altogether forced. The pristine meeting room echoed with the faint electric clicks of a dozen hololithic displays projecting force maps and hyperspace routes. Hackett's elderly second, Rear admiral Prench, stood at attention behind the admiral's chair like a trained hound.
Each and every detail was readily apparent and wordlessly passed over by the swarthy man who briskly swept in through the open doorway. His pristine white uniform and grey slacks seemed brand new, but the old worn black belt had marks from a pistol holster only recently removed.
"Do make it quick, Hackett. We don't have all day and neither does the subsector." The preened tone of a core wolder coldly intoned despite a predatory grin on the stocky man's unshaven face.
"Of course. Director, by now I'm sure you know of the unfolding coup d'ete against the rightful Imperial authorities in the sector." Hackett stood and placed his hands behind his back, entwining his fingers while the ISB director swept off his blue cloak and tossed it around the back of a chair before taking a seat.
"If by 'coup d'ete' you mean the attempted seizure of a fellow Imperial navy vessel and the resultant outrage by select members of your predecessors war council, then yes." Tanel sat heavily and crossed his leg over a knee, staring up at the Admiral.
"I was merely-"
Tanel held up a hand, "Save it, Admiral. You're within your mandate to do exactly that. If you weren't, I'd have had you arrested the moment I set foot on board the Nightmare. Lets dispense with the pleasantries. I know you're currently fighting a two front war in the sub-sector, and you know that we're losing control over the southern regions. So, lets get down to business: what's your plan and why should I cast my lot with you?"
Hackett's head tilted back and his jaw clenched. After narrowing his eyes a thin smirk flitted across his lips, "I appreciate your candor, Director Tanel. Yes, that's currently the case. It seems the sector authority has dispatched a task force, code named Citadel, to seize the rebel's assets and liquidate excess arms caches in case certain key facilities fall to the Renegade separatists."
The resultant pause left Tanel to blink just once, "I can neither confirm nor deny anything from the sector authority or my superiors in the sector security bureau."
The Admiral nodded and circled around from behind his desk. Prench remained where he was, smartly at attention. "Then here's what I suggest: I'm aware you still currently have sizable reserves of capital ships. We need them to stabilize the fronts while your land-based forces are less adequate." he pointed to one particular map which grew to dominate the center of the mostly empty room. The holographic display depicted Ceknell and all its major systems and hyperspace lanes.
"Director Tanel," Hackett began by pointed to the Callipsean region, "Much of this area will not hold against a concentrated attack, but your home station at Bes Allar is an important strategic point. I can send a large concentration of navy armsmen and ground troops to hold the orbital arrays to secure a constant operational presence."
Tanel crossed his arms, "And how exactly are you supposed to transport, maintain, and even obtain such a large 'concentration of navy armsmen and ground troops'?"
The smug expression never strayed from the Admiral's lips, "You are, of course, aware that Jump Point Prime and Hyacinth are the largest population centers in Ceknell, correct? And you are also aware of the...inequality between Jump Point Prime and the political center of Port Eikron that Kassik focused on?" He quickly nodded to Prench. The rear admiral reached down, tapping a glyph on the desk's paneling.
The map flickered and was swiftly replaced by a blown up image, black with a red sun silhouetting massed ranks of storm troopers and a veritable cloudbank of Star Destroyers. Across it was emblazoned a stark motto, 'Stand for Order, or kneel to Chaos!' An enlistment ad, featuring Jump Point prime as an imperial capital, mammoth mega structures, and an unstoppable sea of soldiers and ships.
Tanel scanned the image and lofted a brow, "You need the physical presence to pull off the recruitment drive's optics."
Hackett nodded once with a smirk. He waved a hand and called back the map, pointing to Port Eikron, "Against the largest wave, even the most proficiency swimmer will drown. And let me be the first to say, this so-called Lord Reylk is not the greatest swimmer in our little pond. And with this 'task force Citadel' stripping away his resources, he's not clever enough to take the fight to us." Hackett chortled.
"Clever enough to escape your trap." Tanel openly smiled as Hackett visibly snarled.
"He got lucky, much like the Renegades seizing your impregnable prison. He's a borderline demagogue but a bonafied moron. We don't have to worry about him outmaneuvering us again." The Admiral's rising anger was assuaged by the director shifting in his seat. "So, what do you say, Tanel?"
There was a pause, "I think he doesn't have to be good, he just needs to tie us up while this Renegade lord Lylent takes Ceknell from you. And if you're concentrating all of our forces in one location, isn't that an open invitation?"
Hackett looked over to Prench. The thusfar silent Rear admiral cleared his throat. "We expect to need nearly all assets for a period of forty eight to seventy two hours. In that time, we can expect a sizable force of Renegades to make inroads into the Callipsean corridor, possibly reaching Bes Allar, though local opposition around Pellatine will surely slow them for twelve to twenty four hours in a worst case scenario. We can gain additional time by dispatching my task force Lantern to blunt an advance, the
Banshee
and the corvettes present a less impressive show of force compared to the Imperial and Victory classes we have on hand. But we will require one additional asset that isn't in our current aresenel."
Tanel errantly scratched his neck, "And that would be?"
Prench spoke without the measured pause of his superior, "an interdictor cruiser. Bes Allar and other ISB hubs were common locations for testing the Sinar Interdictors."
Tanel looked between the two, Hackett smirked and Prench remained straight-laced. "You're remarkably well informed, Rear admiral. I may have just what you're looking for. But first, you're going to have to give me what I want."
"Which is?" Hackett took a seat behind his desk and nonchalantly leaned on the polished black surface.
"Your reason for this. Ceknell isn't your home, you're from the Core, and this is far from the most prestigious post. So why risk your life and reputation when you have relatively little to gain from the endeavor aside from the admiration tertiary territory's citizenry?"
The Chesshire gleam lit a spark behind the Admiral's cold dark eyes, "I couldn't care less about the admiration of a few backwater colonists. I care that news reaches the Imperial Centre of this. Sector Command believes this region is unwinnable, and Citadel was obviously dispatched to cut their losses. But the Emperor rewards those who are loyal and get results. I expect to be rewarded with this backwater sub-sector, and in time and the right well-placed friends, consideration when the grand moff loses favour over this and other little... incidents."
"You're ambitious, I'll give you that." Tanel locked eyes with the Admiral, a practiced gaze piercing the politically motivated servicemen. "But 'other little incidents' sounds rather presumptive, all things considered. Tell me, what 'little incidents' might we expect?"
"You're no fool, you know as well as I that rebellion is coming. It starts on the fringe and spreads like a disease. You have to cut it out when you can, and in that time, a lot of healthy tissue gets cut off too. That worries people, and worried people panic. Panic creates chaos, and chaos is the ladder to power for those of us with foresight to act on it. So, Tanel, do I have your support?" With that, Hackett offered his hand to the Imperial director.
...
Well, now that we have a battle report forum, should I end up putting these and the past sorts in that one? Hmm, 'tis worth mulling over. Thoughts?
Edited
by Vykes
The Second Pillar
Stowing the com-link beneath the cupola, Captain Hemsherel rapped his knuckles against the armoured top of the type LXXII battletank, Prowler.
"Higgs, Horst. Take 'er forward slow and steady."
"Sir, what's up w-" the tank's gunnery officer, Hoarst, was swiftly drowned out by the screaming roar of a pair of Z-95's howling overhead.
The hefty fighters made a close pass, skimming over the tops of the six and seven story buildings in their quest for Imperial ships. After the initial pass, there was no easy prey left to be had in Pelatine's capital city. Still, now and then the external amps picked up the distant and unmistakable screech of twin ion engines as the Imperial fighters carefully chanced the lethal run to the relative safety of the remnants of the Imperial fleet.
Hemsherel tapped the side of his headset and keyed the microbead, "Say again, Hoarst."
"What's up with the column?" the mechanically filtered voice was barely recognizable over the vehicle's aged intercom.
"No clearance, so they're going around. We'll meet up at the rally point and then head to the target." with a jolt, the battletank lurched forward, its repulsors loosing a gutteral roar. The commander gripped the butterfly lever of the pintle mounted blaster as the vehicle trundled forward. "Pick up your visual scanning, the last thing we need is some toy soldier with a pop-gun ruining our day."
The vehicle glided down the torn up street, its cracked pavement baked by tubolaser fire, the surrounding buildings blackened from near misses or riven with long raking scars from the dueling giants overhead.
Slowly but surely, the Empire's Star Destroyers had ceded the skies. The dark geometric shapes hovered around the last remaining space port to the north where the sleak Renegade cruisers and battlecruisers were starting to converge. Meanwhile, the rag-tag pirate flotillas hove over the skeletal city, belching fire and flames into the wreckage of the twisted towers below.
One particularly low gunship took a direct hit from a laser cannon and flared to life. It crackled and rolled hard before suddenly plummeting below the skyline with a final shriek and cascading roar. It would have likely shattered all the glass windows in a kilometer radius had that honour not already been given to the
Ravager
. The Gladiator-class star destroyer had exploded at least five kilometers up when its magazine touched off. The earthshattering explosion had tossed Hemsherel around the cupola like a rag doll, leaving him with a few bruises and maybe a cracked rib to mark the occasion.
The veil was torn from the gem of the Callipsean, all that was left was the withered husk fought over by those that wished to leave and those that wanted to make it a graveyard. Hem clicked his tongue to his cheek and stared at the empty alleyways, sweeping the heavy barrel of the pintle-mount to cover each potential ambush site.
The hovertank quickly sped across an empty intersection before Hemsherel caught the glimmer of metal and glass up ahead.
"Hoarst!" the captain shouted into the com-link, "two-hundred meters at one-o'clock!"
The shape was no more than twelve feet tall, but its boxy profile set it apart from the black rounded columns of the building's facade.
The turret traversed with a pneumatic hiss, the tank's capacitors sang with a high pitched whine an instant before the main cannon fired. The retinal searing lance arced out and tore through a ferrocrete pillar before slamming into the shape. There was no explosion, just the smell of burnt ozone and a lingering after-image.
"You missed, Hoarst!" Hemsherel squinted, uttering a muted curse for not having a functioning pair of magnoculars.
His sandy-haired gunner looked up from the green-LED lit seat an arms length away. "There's no way I missed, Boss. That's gotta' be a hit, I had to have at least winged 'em!" Hoarst awkwardly fidgeted and glanced at a few leveling stabilization indicators before peering through the targeting reticle.
"Fine, if you're so damned sure of it. Higgs, get us closer!"
There was a sharp bark, "Goddit!" his pilot slurred his words through the mechanical filter of the inter-tank comlink.
Hemsherel held his tongue as they approached. Sure enough, his gunner had scored a clean hit; the AT PT's pitted hide glowed a dull red as a circle a half foot wide holed it right behind the chin-mount. The walker was already dead, a pathetic bundle of cloth andruined flesh laying at its own feet. Hemsherel recognized the unmoving grey-green Imperial army uniform, patently ignoring the implications as he studied the far side of the walker. A flachette missile riddled its far side, its pilot hadn't made it more than a few feet from the wreck. The slain guardian kept a silent vigil over its empty charge.
Hemsherel took a breath and keyed the microbead, "Guess I owe you a round after atll, Hoarst. You nailed it. C'mon, lets go Higgs." The captain quickly tapped the cupola and ducked down level with the armoured ring. With that, the
Prowler
edged forward once again, resuming its hunt through the blast scoured streets.
...
I'll admit , I still find ground combat more compelling than space combat, but that's merely from a thematic and storytelling point of view. Still, I do enjoy it all.
Edited
by Vykes
Counting Costs
One more echoed set of footsteps in a crowded hall made little difference, and its source blended in with the backdrop just as seamlessly. A middle aged man strolled the concourse, looking over the teeming scores of citizens that thronged onto the alabaster pathways around the atrium. Yet, everything was not as it was. The human folded his hands behind his back, chewing on a sprig of mint as the latest starliner brought in another swarm of unwashed, dazed, and meandering refugees escorted by its paltry band of merchant-guild guards and a smattering of grey clad Imperial soldiers.
Bes Allar's pristine white facades and towering spires rose all around him, a monument to a long-past age of early Imperial success. Where starliners once brought in prospectors and engineers who would construct the New Order's towering spires and bring prosperity, now what few officials remained were a rabble of planetary governors or, as evidence by the red-clad circle around one fat trio of humans that bobbed along with their sea of porters and sycophantic charges, profiteers. The thousands of others who had stumbled from the loading ramps of the aged swoop-backed Calamari star liner way from the aged Calamari liner had only what they fled with as the pirates and Renegades cut a swath through Far Reach.
"How did it come to this?"
Twenty years ago, the visions of grandeur seemed boundless, civility within reach of every far flung hold of the galaxy. Backwater systems like Ceknell were so full of promise not long ago.
"Sir."
The man turned slowly, hiding the faint start at being unexpectedly roused from his entranced rumination. His hand had instinctively strayed to his belt and popped open the silver clasp on his holster.
"Make it quick, Abetnir."
The swarthy core worlder made a show of snapping the clasp closed and straightening the hem of his beige frock.
"Apologies, Director." The communication's officer's voice was clipped and terse, "We have news from Pelatine."
The inconspicuous official nodded, remaining silent though wordlessly telling his subordinate to continue.
"Reports indicate that the system is nearing collapse. A sizable Renegade contingent, maybe as many as twenty capital ships and transports carrying somewhere between three and four corps, have landed. "
There was a momentary lapse before the Imperial Security Bureau director responded. "An assault will be costly compared to a blockade. They have the manpower to cordon off the planet and its other outposts, yet they went for our throat despite the inevitable casualties." He clicked his tongue, "What are our losses?"
Abetnir nodded, reciting the obviously memorized statistic, "The Illustrious, Auralleah, Sanction, Ravager, Lagan, and Lord Stamnoss have been destroyed along with nine corvettes of various classes, and a large number of transport and utility craft. We estimate that out of the six fighter wings planetside, we may be able to recover four squadrons. The Senator Torax has requested permission to spearhead the evacuation. Her captain cites 'irrevocable and severe damage' to the shield generators and command and control. Cadet, trooper, and land forces losses are still being estimated. But without direct intervention, some figures place casualties for the garrison units at ninety percent. Requests for reinforcements are coming in from all branches of the service."
Having finished his report, Abetnir snapped his heels together and stood at attention, awaiting the long pause as director Tanel digested the information. He finally spoke with the same crisp detachment the service had instilled since the first day at the academy.
"One victory, one gladiator, four dreadnaughts, nine corvettes, and one damaged Imperial-class." even the director breathed a sigh at the numbers. "Well, captain Ysmarr is no coward. Tether operational control to his command aboard the Senator Torax . All ships are to depart within two standard hours, but relay to captain Ysmarr that if the situation continues to devolve, that time frame may have to be accelerated. There will be no reinforcements or rescue."
Abetnir smartly saluted and turned on his heel to relay the message, leaving the director watching the newest refugee transports. His grip tightened on the railing lining the upper reaches of the atrium. "You're getting what you want, Hackett. I hope you know what you wishing for."
Just spend 2 1/2 hours reading this forum... just wow... I wish I could play....LOL
Can I just say how completely awesome this entire thread is? Like, everything about it. This is the gold standard of Armada, for sure.
This is inspiring my own battle squadron for campaigns love them Imperials
Glad to hear it, mates! I really
really
am. Ceknell's still a really really enjoyable project and it'll get continued right soon enough. Group took its break and is now on the Corellian Campaign 'proper' but it's going to also be a test to see how a more refined Ceknell will be, which is our next play-through. So it'll be back
Now, I need to go nab a bunch of assets again, alter the map, oye, buuunch of stuff. Glad all my notes and profiles are together.
Any thoughts on adding some Ceknell battle reports to the Reports sub-forum here? I'd love to see how some of the battles went in-game (as well as your excellent writing
)