Age of Dread

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Duel Litanies of the Dark Side: Fire in the Void [Dark Crusade vs Empire of Kopperia]

Dreadheart

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Hyperspace.

Empty of all but light, bending to the speed of Light. A dimension inbetween Realspace, unseen yet entangled in ways many a mind could not begin to comperhend... And yet, to those blessed with ignorance enough, the sheer unnaturality of it provided a feeling of safety. Relief, even, for what could ever reach out and snatch this which was in motion above the very speed of light itself? The ship traversed the Hyperspace, trailing back a passage carefully calculated between numerous asteroid fields, nebulae, star systems and other celestial interferences, allowing the voyage to continue without nearing the many gravity wells caused by major masses, or matter scattered in the void. Sensors showed no activity, while the hyperdrive burned through the radioactive hypermatter fuel in regular intervals, continuing the jump.

It was after awhile, when the gravity sensors beeped, red letters labeling the unanticipated obstacle to the traversing.

ALERT:
- Gravity Well Detected
----> Hyperspace Trajectory: VITAL
-> Hyperdrive Emergency Shutdown: ACTIVE


The gravity well depicted on the scanner was massive. Too big for an asteroid, even then, such a mass would have been detected and recorded during the previous crossing. Too small for a planet-sized obstacle... This could have never escaped the initial charting of the passage....

As the scanners ran Realspace survaying, while the ship was being forcefully vomited from Hyperspace, a mass was detected in the very center of the Gravity Well. Too small, too well-shaped to be anything celestial...

No....

That was a Ship.

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A ship made of archaic metal, adorned by bronze, with numerous spikes protruding from her main hull while her forecastle was shaped as a triangle, crowned by four huge barrels, identified by the energy scanners as Plasma Cannons. Her Citadel was a caricature of superstructures brought together in a twisted design intentionally causing nausea barely by beholding its grotesque appearance. All across the crimson hull, rust stains formed strange patters, while myconids were latched to both hull and stern, where the large thrusters were mounted on. Wiring hung free, to the void's wind, while the main hull's broadsides were covered by enclosed gunports, unwilling to hint to the weaponry concealed onboard.

The strange warship loomed in the Void, while the footprint of the Dark Side beamed from it like a fountain of poisonous water.

Any signal transmissions would yield discord, as the frequencies were subjected to the effects of signal jammers, activated perhaps before the Copper ship exited hyperspace....


@Dimitri Yaroslavov
 
The Senior Lieutenant couldn't believe his eyes as he stared at the affront to nature and good ship design sitting before him. Of course, Dimitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov should have been focused on the fact his ship had been forcibly ripped back into real space. Yet, being a Yaroslavov, he just... Couldn't bare the sight of the abomination before him.

The poor maintenance, shoddy craftsmanship, the highly impractical design, all served to make the oil in his core boil, causing him to chug the rest of his remaining cup to avoid overheating. Regardless, everything about the ship pointed to one thing: Pirates.

The Lieutenant growled. "All crew to battlestations!" He commanded before turning to the Chief Petty Officer. "Lock on, angle us away to the left, and put her to ahead flank. Let's see what they choose to do."

All the while, the gunner, from the safety of his seat just outside the bridge, aimed his remotely operated dual 30mm Autocannon in the direction of the enemy, waiting for them to get close enough to begin engaging.

In the engine monitoring station, the engineers busied themselves with ensuring the KIF Mochalivi remained at peak efficiency, while the mechanics went below to check on the subsystems and guide the automated repair systems.


Lastly, the miners entered the seats of their remote turrets despite knowing the two lasers not only lacked range, but also the force necessary to burn through soild plating.

Back on the bridge, Dimitri gave a final command before the engagement would begin. "Fyoderov. Put "Our Brave Orel Won't Surrender to the enemy" on the internal speaker."

"Yes, Your Excellency!" Vlad replied enthusiastically as he positioned the ship for combat as trumpets blared over the intercom.1000024495.jpg
 
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Chains clattered, as the gears of the manual cranes chewed to the metal links of the Huttese chain. A Weequay and a Gamorran kept pulling, lifting the ammunition crate ever so slightly from the lower decks, through the narrow hole made by removing parts of the catwalk, to get the damned thing to the gun deck.

Tok, Tok, Tok

The Durasteel rod clanked on the catwalk, as the Nautolan limped across. His skin was ice-blue, while red tattoos on his face hinted to his rank as the First Mate of the Imvonvol. He snarled, his one hand firmly gripping on the top of the rod used as a walking stick, while his other hand holding an ivory pipe.

"Get those barrels fed, you Nexu fodder!!" the one-eyed Weequay roared. Like most of the crew, he wore no upper armour, or clothing entirely, choosing to put on the belts carrying the energy cells and vibrowknives directly on his brown skin, heavily darkened by a myriad of tattoos depicting strange art from various civilizations.

The crew rushed, under the weight of the quartermaster's barking and the sheer knowledge of what would happen should they failed their posts...

"Get the starboard cannons ready, Quartermaster!" the Nautolan shouted to the Weequay, pointing to the lined up large cannons behind the enclosed gunports. Oxygen showered over them, as the barely functioning life support released yet another installment of almost breathable artificial air.

The ship's deck shook. The Nautolan halted his pace, looking down to his one leg, before turning over his shoulder. His eyes glared in recognition, as he looked sternwards.

"Those would be the Engines, boys... Better get ready for some action!!"



Across the ship, in the intestines of the citadel, the bridge blazed alight, as lightning tendrils sparked and latched to the consoles arrayed around the main platform. There, in the middle of it all, stood the very source of the Dark Side whirl that engulfed the ship. Her fingers driven into the consoles melting by the heat of lightning, while her long braided pale hair hanging like heavy chains, lashing every time she motioned spasmically her head to patternless directions. Her skin pale, deprived of any shade as if it was but canvas to the numerous glyphic marks scarified onto her skin over the swelling black veins in which her hollow heart pumped the thick blood of the damned breed she belonged to.

The laughter followed, as her one eye rolled back, her body enduring the burning of the Dark Side as her mind gave in to the ecstasy experienced by the state of hallucinogenic insanity twisted by malicious intent....

To her, this was no mere piracy...

To her, she did not barely obeyed orders....

This was a veneration of idols far too imprinted to her deranged mind. It was a taste of freedom in which there could be no price high enough to not make it tempting...

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"River's tide and Darkest Hall!!"

She cried out, her voice a cacophony of excess and mindless rage, long since denied of face or form, twisted into a quest of thrill and craving madness.

"Flayed Beast and Flying Host!"

Her words a chorus of diablery, summoning witchcraft that cast shockwaves in the Force, as if the Darkness emitting from within her taunted the very Realspace in slanderous mockery.

"Trail a path of BLOOD AND FALL"


"BE THY WRATH MINE, IN DARKNESS LOST"




Th Imvonvol suddenly sprung to life. Its engines blazing as fuel combusted into radioactive flame, giving speed to the blasphemous hull. She spinned, like a screw driven in place, it carved a path ever speeding, circling the Copper vessel like a predator, readying to strike....

And so, the One-Eyed Vulture attacked.

The Imvonvol spinned around its horizontal axis. Suddenly, her gunports openned, revealing a line of Small caliber Particle Cannons, firing towards the general direction of the Copper ship, while the Imvonvol continued to circle around the ship, refusing to yet engage in full force...
 
As the guns appeared on the enemy's broadside, and the ship sped into a corkscrew, Dimitri's eyes widened as he turned to Vlad, all the while belting the chorus in perfect pitch:

"All hands on deck! Take your places, comrades!
Our proud Orel doesn't give in to its enemies
No one begs for mercy!"


He sang boldly, the crew echoing him as he used his tail to direct the ship's movement into a steady course, keeping the nose pointing at the pirate ship while attempting to limit their target profile.

"Engines roar and feet clank,
Thrusters are ready,
Cannons wait for the fighting
Shining ominously in the sun."


Once within 80 km from the target, the gunner opened fire with the dual 30mm. It's APFDS rounds rapidly flying toward the Imvonvol's hull before hitting home. The gunner instinctively aiming for the exposed weapon systems on the front, and also putting rounds into the conning tower. If they were going to their deaths, then they would make the enemy pay dearly.
 
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