Settling Home

Anshar

26-01-2008 00:58:40

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“What a crappy little system, just like the rest of them.”

[“Don’t be quick to judge. With everyone else focused on the Core worlds, now is the time for us to set up new operations. Even the others have had their networks destroyed. While they scramble to build something out of the ashes, we will start anew. Now, what is the progress of our agents?]

“I’m afraid, sir, that many are getting stuck at the platform at the outskirts of the system. Apparently, the controllers of Yridia are picky about whom they let past it, even just to settle in the restricted zones on the ninth planet. I must admit, they are zealous about keeping people in designated areas.”

[“No matter. As long as our agents do their job, we will be fine. We only need to keep the strongest power in the Minos Cluster looking the other way while we slip in. Once we have established ourselves, they will not be able to dislodge us. For now, take whatever steps are necessary to get their attention.]

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

“Let’s see,” said Aton Landris, pouring over the list of incoming refugees. “We’ve got a small group of Ithorians; send them to Yridia III. They can help keep the place pretty.” The assistant mumbled an affirmative and opened a channel to the shuttle. Landris was one of the civil administrators of the Yridia system, paid for his exceptional organizational and personnel management skills. Unfortunately, trying to effectively manage a tide of refugees was beyond anyone’s control. Fear, impatience, and general distrust permeated the hordes.

“Sir, we have a gentleman who claims to be a doctor from the Orian system, but that’s all the information he’ll give. Should we send him back with the rest of the people who won’t talk?”

“No,” said Landris. “Double check his background and, if he clears, put him on a shuttle bound for Yridia II and transmit a message alerting the Governor-General of his arrival.”

* * *

“I received another request to speed up the refugee processing,” said Anshar, speaking to the holographic images of the house summits, as well as Proconsul Armus, Grand Chamberlain Sith Bloodfyre, Equite Noctis Rekio Corsair, and Marshall Maxamillian von Oberst. “Apparently, the other systems in the cluster don’t think we’re doing enough. That, and Sarin isn’t entirely happy that we’ve turned the DC platform into a processing station.”

“It might not hurt to speed things up a bit,” ventured Telona. “Either that, or increase patrols. We had one transport almost reach the Sword’s Sheath.”

“A transport that subsequently disappeared,” remarked Rekio. “The more refugees we bring in, the more we risk being exposed as Force users, and I doubt any of us wish to face the Vong so soon again.”

“Besides,” added Sith, “the greater the number of refugees, the greater the risk of riots or conflicts within the refugee community. The other systems only seek our help because they are having the riots we have, so far, avoided.”

“I just don’t like the idea of wayward shuttles coming so close to my base,” said Telona.

“And Oberst will ensure that it doesn’t happen again,” cut in Anshar before an argument could develop. Oberst scowled, but chose to change the subject.

“We are intercepting transmissions,” he said. “They’re encoded, but we know that someone outside the Minos Cluster is communicating with someone in the system. They appear to be communicating with a ship, as the communication does not go to any of the other planets. Intelligence is working on it.”

“It could be harmless,” said Archean.

“Perhaps,” said Oberst. “But, in these times, we can never be too careful.” The others nodded in agreement.

“We have another problem,” said Armus, breaking into the conversation. “It appears that there has been an incident on the DC platform.”

* * *

Landris had closed out another grueling shift, turning things over to the night shift manager, who still had to deal with the refugees. Landris had stopped at a small drink stand on the way back to his quarters. Set up by one of the refugees, it had become a popular stop for many of the temporary residents on the platform at the edge of the system. As he walked away from the stand, he never heard nor saw the Rodian approach from behind. A blaster shot to the back of the head ended Landris’ life, and began confusion and panic amongst the other residents.

Before posting, read the instructions on the competition website: http://www.tarentum.org/comp/

Welshman

27-01-2008 05:39:28

“Launch squadron one, hound that shuttle back into its designated holding area.”

“Aye Sir, relaying orders.”

The bridge of the ISDII- Magnus Kaerner hummed with activity, crew members traipsing back and forth datapads in hand, the command consoles processing units churning away at untold millions of variables, sensors pinging into the endless void returning contact after contact from the direction of Yridia IX; the refugee flotilla, a swarm of vessels not too dissimilar in appearance to the shoals of nizzletooth which cruised the seas of Yridia II. It was this diaspora of ships from all corners of the galaxy which had been the bane of Welshman's existence for the past few days. Every now and again one of the claptrap ships would attempt to make a break for the inner-system, hoping feverently to begin the new life they were all so desperate to have.

Petty fools, they fled whilst their worlds burned and strangers fought for them... Welsh thought to himself

“Squadron launched Rear Admiral.”

“Acknowledged XO, keep me updated.”

“Understood Sir.”

Since the “end” of recent hostilities with the other Clans of the Brotherhood and the alien invaders the outer fringes of Tarentum's space had began to resemble a refugee camp with tramp freighters instead of ramshackle tents and it was to this camp and the nearby space platform that the mighty flagship of Tarentum's fleet had been ordered to maintain the peace.

On the sensor screen the dozen blue dots of squadron one converged on the yellow marker, a few tentative seconds later the course projection of the yellow freighter curved around back to the holding pattern. Another crises averted.

“Admiral Corsair, we have reports of an incident on the Council station. Command has also been informed. Shall we undertake any response?”

“Ready a shuttle of troops but don't launch, get me High Command on the 'net.”

He had a feeling that a long day was about to get longer...

Dralin

27-01-2008 05:46:20

Passenger compartment, small freighter en route to Eden Greenturf
---

Looking around at the other occupants of the small passenger compartment, Dralin Hakh'khar, commander of Battle Team Praxeum, shook his head.

You'd think we could have supplied something a little faster than this... he thought to himself. The dingy compartment was just one of many in this small freighter, packed with refugees. Refugees fleeing the Vong mostly wound up here, in the Minos Cluster. The Yridia system in particular has been receiving an influx of displaced peoples, introducing a strain on it's infrastructure. However, some parts of the infrastructure that should never be strained have seen heavy losses, which is why Commander Hakh'khar was given this undercover mission.

Specifically, water destined for Sword's Sheath hadn't been showing up. Telona and Deatharoc did a good job steering passersby away from their particular territory in the Itaana Belt, but the sheer amount of refugees have left simple things like waste disposal to be desired. Much needed water, something that the asteroid base couldn't do without, has recently been contaminated by people dumping things they shouldn't into the available reservoirs located at Yridia IX. It was up to him to both see about making appropriate security measures, as well as try to prevent it from happening again.

And some of these rabble know something about it,Dralin thought to himself, trying in vain to get a sense of the other passengers. The Guardian may have done well in his studies at the Shadow Academy, even going as far as to become the commander of Praxeum when he was only a Protector, but he had yet to get a hold of his fleeting Force senses.

I can throw someone bodily across the room without moving a muscle, he mused, but I can't even tell if someone is in the same room as me without looking...

Shaking his head, Dralin got up, stretching his cramped muscles as best as he could, given the low ceiling and the close quarters. Palming the grimy pad next to the door, the door slid open, revealing a hallway barely wide enough for two people to pass by each other. Following it to the main hold, Dralin took notice of the groups of people muttering to each other, each group staring darkly at the others. Once again wishing he was in command of his own senses, Dralin had to rely on body language in order to gauge the intentions of each small group. Some of them were obviously families, driven from their homes by the extragalactic invaders. Others were friends, huddled together for warmth in the old freighter. His best bet for leads would come from the 'business associates,' the ones who were banded together by little more than self-interest, out to make a quick credit.

Donitz

27-01-2008 09:15:45

In a nondescript and spartanly decorated office deep within Castle Tarentum, boney ashen gray fingers massaged ashen gray eyelids. Doni Tzu Tarantae, General of the Armies of Tarentum, glanced out of the corner of one eye at a Division-level report, one of several on his desk, claiming reductions in combat efficiency due to theft. Virtually every command in the Yridia IX Army Group was requesting additional supplies of wiring, foodstuffs, ammunition, and security personnel to maintain combat effectiveness. The tidal wave of requests had only started within the last few months or so, after the Yuuzhan Vong had steamrolled through the area. Apparently the huddled masses of aliens and assorted scum eeking their way through life on crowded Yridia IX had taken to stealing as much hardware from the planetside military as they could get away with, hawking their illicitly gotten goods on the black market where they would either be resold or smelted for raw materials. As if that weren't the worst of it, the Yevethan knew implicitly; with people being pressed to the wall for living space, it was becoming much more difficult to keep the size, capabilities, and training operations of the Yridia IX Army Group a secret. Information could kill - it was only a matter of time before an enterprising but foolish alien with nothing better to do would start selling what he had seen or heard to the highest bidder. In a place like Eden, there were all sorts of unsavory sorts representing all sorts of foreign powers only too eager to hear of such things. Things that could get a lot of people killed.

The General sighed and tapped in a six-digit sequence routing access to his direct superior - Field Marshal Maxamillian von Oberst. Within fifteen seconds a nameless Journeyman supervising the Clan relay aboard the Aegis, high in orbit, had found where the Field Marshal was, and cleared access via the Magnus Kaerner's own internal communications system. Doni Tzu made absolutely no attempt to wash the annoyed expression from his face before the uplink was completed.

"What is it, General? Matters are a bit hectic here," the scowling face of the Field Marshall appeared on the screen.

Doni Tzu nodded his understanding. "Sssscertainly Field Marshal. I am, however, compounding your problem by informing you of another one. I have read ssseveral division reports of ssstolen equipment today - twelve in fact. Thisss is the last sstraw. The number of reportsss has been increasssing for a month now. I am coming to Yridia nine to invesstigate myself."

The Field Marshal hesitated, and blinked. "Fine." The commlink died.

Doni Tzu grinned slightly. Accessing a nearby Army-controlled comm panel, he fired off a notification to the Yridia IX Army Group commanders, both informing and indirectly warning them of his approach. Doni Tzu distinctly believed that seeing the realities on the ground was far better than reading a report, so that was exactly what he would do. Stepping out of his office, he made for the first shuttle out of the Castle.

Kazarelth

27-01-2008 23:41:12

The night-shift manager was not as capable as Landris was in management. When he saw the corpse of the day-manager, his stomach did a somersault, while his eyes watered with the nausea of seeing a blaster-hole in the back of the man’s neck. Landris’ corpse was the epicenter of tumult in the Dark Council station. Refugees were fleeing helter skelter, and the manager’s head was heavy and murky – just when the station needed him most.
He was still feeling the breaker of an unpleasant wave of sickness on his head when he desperately sent a distress signal to the Vice Admiral.
The mass of refugees splintered and crackled as a thin wafer being broken by many hands. In their midst, the assassin had slipped away, without anyone even knowing that the Rodian was the reason for the mess.
Mob mentality’ the reptilian snickered, as he quietly sent a message to his boss. It simply read: “First stage complete.”

--

“You have my consent. However, not one of us is to be on site without my permission. A single mistake and we would have a crisis far greater than this.” Anshar’s voice came through a fraction of a second behind his image. Welshman frowned a little, and nodded. His Executive Officer gave a slight nod – to himself and no one in particular.

“We need talkers, XO. Make sure our troops understand that. We take prisoners.”

“Yes, sir. The special troops, then?” the XO’s tone dropped subtly when he pronounced the word “special”. The navy’s specialized troops were varied in their skills. And silence was one of them.

“Of course. And keep me updated.”

--

“… greater than this.” The holonet figure of Anshar Kahn Tarentae looked calm. The tepid bluish colour of his holonet form did no justice to his solid blue eyes.
Kazarelth looked at his Quaestor. The conference room of the Corsair was a muffled room. Cold and dull. The voices fell like bodies across the room, falling with dull thuds on the walls.
Karel Tarentae did not notice his Aedile’s queried look. The holonet conference was important. Armus was relaying the information from the DC station. The manager was inefficiently handling the emergency. He was not doing the job he was trained like a slave to do.
Kazarelth’s intense teal eyes betrayed the exhaustion he felt. His body could not handle a long and severe day without a long night’s sleep.
“Shouldn’t we blockade the station?” He suddenly asked.
“It’s perfectly sealed. No ship can escape it, and besides the Magnus Kaernar is close enough.” Oberst’s face convulsed into an evil smile, “Within firing range.”
“We need the station for sometime, Marshal. Besides, that would worsen any situation.” Anshar replied stoically.

--

Dralin's mind was cracking up. His senses erratically fetching information from various parts of the ship. He was unnerved and irritated. Almost cursing his Aedile for sending him, of all people to this mission.
Yet his spirit showed the resilience of his body. He was on a mission, and he needed to be responsible. To be focused, to be strong.
The little girl he was questioning was very sweet. He had no idea that she was a bait. Her pretty face did not deceive him of her employer's intentions. He was behind the Guardian. And one hard whack to his head was all he needed to stop the 'nuisance' from stopping his mission.

Dralin saw a cute smile before his world was engulfed in a blanket of darkness.

Telona

28-01-2008 03:58:06

Telona stopped dead in her tracks as a sensation in the Force flowed over her.

"Lady Telona, are you ok?" Deatharoc asked as he looked back at her.

The Adept just shook her head before continuing walking down the dimly lit hallways of Gladius with her Aedile. Something had happened to her Apprentice but she could do nothing at the moment. She had various reports to go over plus this murder and the issue of contaminated water to deal with. Then there was the nagging feeling that something was going to happen that would put her House and her Clan in danger. The others had to have been feeling that as well but it hadn't been openly discussed.

As the two turned down the hall to the Throne room they were met by a throng of Gladius members looking rather huffy. Deatharoc squared his shoulders as the two of them pushed through to the closed doors. A river of questions and angry comments flooded the passage as they did so, all about the water shortage. Telona's blood boiled over as her already thin patience ran out and she let her anger be known by smacking the heavy doors with her hand.

"Quiet! All of you!" She screamed as she rounded on the mass. "I know full well we have little water left and I know the restrictions are severe. I am doing what I can to find the source of the contamination. If more of you had offered to help things would be going a lot faster but that is beside the point. You will continue to operate normally under the restrictions and like it. Now unless I have volunteers to run secret routes to and from the Fortress of De'Hnaalia and dip into the wells there return to your posts.”

With that the woman pushed through the doors and stormed to her chair. She flopped down and immediately started going over the latest reports. One in particular caught her eye and made her stomach turn. The food supply was being contaminated too. The kitchen staff had to burn several hundred pounds of grain that had just come in. Deatharoc saw the message as well and looked over at the Quaestor with uncertainty. Things were starting to go from bad to worse and it was taking all their time and mental energy just to keep their members in check. The thought of being forced to abandon the base until the crisis was over silently crossed their minds as members began filtering in with more complaints.

Dralin

28-01-2008 04:01:10

Groaning, Dralin slowly opened his eyes, which then began to water from the pain pulsing on the back of his head. Sitting up, he tried to get his bearings in the strange room. He had been laying on a small, metal cot in a similarly small, dimly-lit metal room, which smelled like rust and waste. He could still hear the whine of the out-dated engines of the freighter, however, meaning he was just put in a strange compartment.

Ugh, what did they used to store in this room, dead bodies? he thought to himself as he crinkled his nose in disgust. At first he was only joking with himself, but then he remembered how he ended up in the room to begin with, which understandably cut off the amusement.

Narrowing his eyes, Dralin caught a faint glimmer of Force senses in the back of his mind, and tried to grasp it. However, it was like trying to keep hold of a wet eel, and it slipped away from him. Deciding to do it the conventional way, Dralin stood up and made his way to the door, careful not to let his boots make too much noise. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for a guard, but could barely hear anything over the engines.

Now, how to get out of here... Dralin mused to himself as he began to quietly pace his small room. I could brace myself in the far corner of the room and use both leverage and the Force to break the door's lock... but that would make too much noise...

Looking over at the door, it suddenly hit Dralin. The communal rooms of the freighter didn't have locks on them, as the piddling amount of money that the refugees paid for these quarters didn't pay for privacy. He also noticed that this room was exactly like his own room on the freighter, and that he had been over-thinking it the whole time.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Dralin took a chance and quickly swung open the door, accidentally pushing aside the guard to the door. Once the surprise factor wore off, however, the unwashed thug snarled at Dralin and threw a punch at him. Ducking quickly, Dralin took advantage of the cramped hallway and sprung up from his crouch, pinning the thug to the wall temporarily. He then let out a short staccato of punches aimed at the thug's neck. A couple of his punches landed, taking the thug in the throat, and he tried for Dralin's throat in response with one hand, clutching his neck with the other. Thankfully, Dralin, being faster than the ham-fisted thug, took a hold of his thumb and twisted it back, hyper-extending it. As the thug, gasping for air, dropped to his knees, Dralin grabbed the thug's hair and wrenched his head forward. Using the Force to discreetly pull a tiny dagger sown into his waistband out and into his hand, Dralin plunged the two-inch blade into the base of the thug's skull, taking his life instantly.

Knowing that someone was bound to hear their exchange, Dralin grabbed the thug by the forearm and with a grunt, quickly dragged him into the small compartment. Shaking his head, Dralin broke the handle off the small dagger, leaving the blade embedded in the thug's neck, only regretting the time wasted in killing a thug who wasn't even paid enough to stand inside the smelly room he was guarding. Cautiously, Dralin stepped back out into the hallway, closed the door, and started off towards what he believed was the direction of his old compartment. When his guess proved right, he checked to see if his meager belongings were still there. When he opened the door, he saw his small pack surprisingly still tucked in the corner near his bedroll. Looking over at the other occupants, he saw one of the refugee's eyes opened wide, and then the refugee bolted out the door.

Damn, there went my anonymity, Dralin growled to himself.

Raiju

28-01-2008 14:01:04

The cockpit was almost quiet expect for the low hum of the engines behind it and the swoosh of the pilot’s pant legs as he shifted them to a more comfortable position. The Ryn was getting sick of this cockpit; he had been on duty for the Magnus Kaerner as the 1st Interception Squadron Commander, which had recently been coined as Dashi Squadron from the Ryn word for great death, for almost three weeks now and he was starting to miss the pains of being Rollmaster back at Castle Tarentum for House Tridens. The worst part of the whole experience was his cockpit was starting to stink due to his natural odour and he was finally seeing why Rekio had so much trouble with it, luckily though he only had to put up with it when entering and exiting his TIE Avenger as for the rest of the time he was sealed off in his flight suit. Fortunately, today was his last shift for now as the rest of the Tridens summit needed him back at the Castle to discuss performance reviews of the house, and Raiju was excited he was soon going to be back near the Ale Pond.

Unfortunately though, until he could let loose he still had to be the uptight commander of his newly trained squadron. For the most part the experience had been decent with minor setbacks and only one or two pilots still requiring babysitting, but the familiar feeling of frustration slowly filled the Ryn again as he glanced at his radar.

“Four, if I see you fall out of formation once more I’m going to personally hand you over to the Marshall and watch as he not only verbally but physically ass-rapes you with a proton torpedo.” Raiju shouted into the headset comm as they quickly closed the distance between the Magnus Kaerner and the fleeing transport.

This wasn’t the first time that he and his squadron were sent by the Rear Admiral to escort a transport back into the refugee sector, in fact this wasn’t even the dozenith time and Raiju hoped that he wouldn’t have to destroy another grouping of desperate people looking for a chance at life. Adjusting his lasers to fire at a dual setting and with lowered power, Raiju slowly steered his craft up behind the shuttle and activated his comm to the shuttle’s channel.

“Refugee Transport Omega-Two-One, this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Raiju Kang; Commander of Dashi Squadron. You have entered unauthorized space and illegally exited the Refugee Sector, you are to cut you’re engines by twenty-five percent and acknowledge that you will return to the Refugee Sector immediately.” Raiju stated as professionally and confidently as possible, unfortunately after several moments of calm silence over the comm a whiny voice answered with an aggressive tone to it.

“Junior? Listen here, Sithspit. I’ve been travelling from world to world years before you were born and I’ll be damned now if I’m going to let some Imperial Academy prevent me and my family from finding a new home after we’ve already lost so much in a war you’re government refuses to participate in.” Answered the whiny voice before the shuttle began slowly dropping left to right as if expecting a dogfight to begin. Before Raiju could deliver a final warning his wingman Tsar broke the silence.

“Primary weapon systems powering up, Sir.”

“Copy; Flight Two, you are clear to buzz the target.” Raiju responded on the Squadron channel and watched as four TIE Avengers quickly entered the voice of his cockpit on the right and flashed by the target striking the poor shuttle with several green flashes. While the ship was slowly and bulky in its movements, the shield system was top notch and barely registered any lose of power. Raiju gave a sigh, he didn’t want to be chasing his fool all the way to Yridia VI. Skipping basic protocols, Raiju ordered his third flight group to activated their tractor beams on the target. A lovely feature this was on the TIE Avenger, though the beams took a while to recharge and were shorted lived but Raiju got his desired affects. The craft suddenly stopped skipping back and forth in front of Raiju and flew a dead straight. Quickly activating his missile systems, Raiju was presently surprised to hear Tsar announce over the comm he was doing the same. After hearing the buzzing ping of the missile system acquiring a lock, Raiju switched back to communications with the Refugee shuttle.

“Refugee Transport Omega-Two-One, I am not flirting with you. I will blow you away into deep space if you don’t comply; all it will mean for me is a little extra paper work for myself when I get back to the Magnus.”

“Alright, alright Lieutenant. We are heading back now.” The whiny voice answered, this time with some panic in his voice. Obviously the man didn’t like the howling warning of his craft stating that he had multiple missile locks on his rear. Within moments the transport had changed course and headed back to the refugee sector with Raiju and his squadron following close behind. Once the transport had returned, the Ryn ordered flights two and three to make short patrol along the borders of the Refugee sector while he and flight one would buzz by the Magnus and inform the bridge command of their success.

“MK Command, this it Dashi Lead. Transport successfully returned to Refugee Sector, suggest you penalize them by informing the platform to push them back on the entrance list. Standing by for new orders.” Raiju plainly stated into his mic. He hated how strict Welshman ran the Magnus when he was on board, the pair had once been master and student and never had the Warlord been so strict. Expecting the Rear Admiral himself to order an extended patrol by Raiju could land, the Ryn was disappointed when the monotone voice of the Admiral’s XO answered.

“Dashi One, order your second and third flights to extend their patrols around the Refugee Sector. The Rear Admiral wants your flight to personally escort a troop transport to the Council platform.”

“Troop transport?” The Ryn asked, “Is there a situation onboard the platform, Sir?”

“That is not your concern, One. Escort the transport to the platform and then resume patrols around the Refugee Sector until new orders.”

The Obelisk Ryn sighed as he accepted his new orders. Something had happened on the platform, and if word of it got out to the Refugee Sector or they noticed a temporary focus on the platform from the Magnus all sorts of idiots would be pushing their throttles to maximum in hopes to escape into freedom. Hopefully this would not happen, but one thing was for sure; Raiju wouldn’t be returning to Castle Tarentum anytime soon.

Anshar

28-01-2008 16:58:22

“Sir, we’ve gone through and inspected all food and water shipments. Nothing is contaminated, at least not in this batch. The containers are fully sealed, requiring a pass code and a matching seal number for delivery,” said the warehouse processing chief, his holo-image flickering. “We don’t know how they got to it the first time, but only that this batch is fine.”

“Alright, fine,” said Rekio. “Send it out.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply before the holo-image flickered out. Rekio wanted desperately to be working on other things at the moment, but he had to solve this problem. Of course, even sending out the food and water that was now available created a problem. There was not enough supplies to properly supply everyone. This meant tightening up on the rations, and that meant growing discontent both in Tarentum’s population of refugees and natives, as well as on the other worlds. The Yridian system provided a good deal of food production to the Minos Cluster.

Rekio reclined, letting his mind wander for a bit, pulling together pieces of information and fitting them together. Suddenly, his eyes sprung open, his mind recalling something he had read the other day. Rapidly skimming through the reports, he found what he was looking for: a delivery of fourteen XK-23 food production and processing droids. The XK-23’s had very basic programming, essentially related to proper handling and storage of products. Of the fourteen units, one had come in damaged, each house had received two units, and the remaining seven had been set to work in the distribution centers.

Rekio keyed a holo-graphic recorded and began recording a message to go to the clan and house summits. As he did so, he couldn’t believe that he didn’t think of this before.

* * *

“And so, by sabotaging just one production run, someone has created problems that will encourage rebellious behavior among the desperate, as well as possibly providing an opportunity for someone else to move in on the market.” Rekio’s message ended.

“An interesting theory,” said Dranik. “If he’s right, do you think it could be a corporation trying to compete?”

“Perhaps,” said Anshar, “but there’s plenty of need out there right now. No company would need to do something like this just to make some extra money. I’m thinking something else might be in the works.” Anshar paused for a moment to check an incoming message, noting that all the XK-23 droids had been deactivated and were en route to be scrapped. They had indeed been tampered with; someone had removed their analyzers, and reprogrammed them to ignore the fact that they were missing a component required for their job. It still didn’t explain who put the poison there, but it did explain how it made it through the system.

“Dranik, I need you to travel to a few of the other worlds and look into these refugee camps,” said Anshar. “Find out where they’re getting their food, if they’re having a shortage, and, if not, why they aren’t. And, of course, always be on the lookout for something suspicious.”

“Understood,” said Dranik, turning to leave. Officially on a leave, Dranik made an excellent candidate for this job because he was powerful enough to handle any situation he might encounter, and Anshar had relied on his reconnaissance skills many a times before. Dranik had never failed him.

* * *

“It goes according to plan, m’Lord, though the rulers of Yridia did discover the faulty droids. Still one production lot has been lost, and that has sown the proper discontent.”

[“Well done. How are the plans for the riots coming along?”]

“Begging your forgiveness, m;Lord, but our assassin on the platform has acted a bit too soon. But, we can still manage. Our agents are in place in other camps throughout the cluster, including in Yridia.”

[“Make certain that your assassin meets his own end, both for his failure and simply so it cannot be traced back to us. And, I have decided, I want that platform.”]

“Uh, m’Lord, might I remind you that the Yridian star destroyer is in the vicinity of the platform? I’ve heard rumors that the rulers of this system can be quite brutal.”

[“That is where the good admiral comes into play. Now, do as I have commanded.”]

“Yes, m’Lord.”

Dralin

28-01-2008 20:16:54

Picking up his small pack, Dralin opened it and went through it.
Hmm, no one took anything, he thought to himself. This was especially surprising, since he didn't doubt anyone went through his belongings, and his hold-out blaster was still there. Could this be how they found me out? Or at least suspected?

Slipping the hold-out blaster into the pocket sown into the back of the waistband in his pants, Dralin went out the door, moving in the direction the refugee had bolted, the same direction that the room he woke up in was. As he got closer to the room he was in, he slowed down to a stealthy approach, hearing a voice coming from the room.

"No, sir, I just saw the prisoner. He killed the guard, which confirms our theory of a government agent. I had worried when his guard didn't check in like he was supposed to, but I wrote it off as being unprofessional." He paused. "Yes sir, I understand."

Dralin heard the click of a power pack being loaded into a blaster, so he decided to try to take this one by surprise as well. As Dralin swung the door open and leaped forward in one smooth motion, the "refugee" spun and leveled the blaster his way. Dralin grasped the man's wrist and pushed it up, pointing the blaster at the ceiling just in time. As the blaster bolt left a shallow pock mark in the ceiling, the man unexpectantly brought his elbow around, smashing Dralin in the nose, accompanied by a disgusting crunch as his nose broke. As the pain enveloped his face, Dralin let out a feral growl, delving into himself, feeling the steady pulse of death's embrace, and the power it provided. An animalistic light came into his eyes as he tightened his grip on the man's wrist. Suddenly, the man's wrist started aching, then the bones themselves almost seemed to pulse with pain. The man howled as what felt like fire began to spread up from his wrist to his arm, the energy searing the marrow and scorching the flesh.

As the man dropped the blaster to clutch his wrist, Dralin grabbed the man by his hair and launched him towards the bulkhead, smashing the man's nose in retribution. Slouching down to pick up the man's discarded blaster, Dralin walked over to fallen man, almost like a predator sauntering over to his defeated prey. Kicking the man in the side for good measure, Dralin then held the man's head down, pressed the blaster to the back of his head, and pulled the trigger. The smell of burnt flesh, hair, and bone filled the room, almost as if confirming the kill.

Calming himself, Dralin took a deep breath, almost reveling in the kill. Opening his eyes, he started looking through the corpse's pockets, trying to find some sort of lead to go on. Since this freighter had nothing in terms of personal space, people would normally carry their more important belongings on their person. Fortunately, along with the comlink he used to speak with his higher-up- who sounded almost military- he found some datacards.

Probably encrypted...

Looking at his chrono, he knew that they were landing soon, so he started off towards the common room.

evant

28-01-2008 23:47:12

Cockpit of 2nd Interceptor Squadron, Flight One, Avenger Four

The ion engines of the TIE Avenger came to life with a familiar hum, the lights and controls in the cockpit immediately came to life and began their startup sequences. Letting out a large yawn the pilot shook his head to wake himself up. He once again took a grip on his controls and prepared for all the all too familiar check by his squadron commander.

The comlink in his helmet cracked to life, "One flight systems checks."

"Two here, all show green."

"Three, ready to get the hell out of this hanger."

Not quite realizing it was his turn to speak and fading in and out of conscious thought it took a few moments to realize he needed to respond, "Four here, I'm good."

The squadron commander cracked in over his headset, "You sure? I know we've been at this a bit but the safety of the system depends on these missions."

The pilot thought about it for a moment. Most of these missions had been uneventful, but even in the off chance he did get to vape a transport, he really got no enjoyment out of it. I'd rather just blast apart rocks all day. At least we don't have to get permission and argue with them first.

He took another moment to reply but this time came back with more certainty in his voice, "Yeah lets do this."

Despite the fatigue, the twelve TIE Avengers of the 2nd Interceptor Squadron left the belly hanger on the ISDII Magnus Kaerner with military precision.

* * *

Cockpit of 2nd Interceptor Squadron Commander

As his TIE Avenger fell out of the belly of the Magnus Kaerner, Evant Taelayn quickly rolled to port and set himself up heading straight towards the edges of the refugee sector. His entire squadron mimicking his move behind him. Pulling his throttle to 100% he sat back and took a moment to reflect on his squadron as they approached the refugees.

He hadn't flown with his squadron for very long but he was beginning to trust many of them. Trust and understanding he felt would keep his squadron members alive, experience alone had taught him that. Now he just needed to get them the spacial reasoning they needed to be truly deadly. As he flew along pondering these things a silent alarm began to flash on his display, letting him know that he was within range of the edge of the refugees.

The commander quickly scanned over all the targets in the area. His onboard computer plotting their locations on a grid, pulling in their ID beacons and building a full picture on the situation at hand. He had his computer run the situation against an algorithm he had been building during his subsequent patrols, looking for anything out of place. As the squadron got near the very edge of the refugee space, Evant softly pulled his Avanger to the starboard side and up along the very fringes of the space. His onboard computer scanning whatever information it could on contents of the massive number of freighters in a holding pattern in the space.

His onboard display alerted him to an incoming communication, from the Magnus Kaerner, "2nd MK Interceptor Squadron. Please alter your course to the coordinates provided with this messages. Please take your squadron to escort in a VIP transport containing supplies from Yridia II. You will be going to the Itaana belt."

"Acknowledged."

* * *

Cockpit of 2nd Interceptor Squadron Commander

The twelve TIE Avengers of 2nd Interceptor Squadron approached the Sword's Sheath. Evant, Commander of the squadron immediately flipped over his communications to a broad range frequency to alert the asteroid base to his presence, "2nd MK Interceptor Squadron to Sword's Sheath, we come with supplies, come in."

A few moments of silence followed the communication. Evant double checked the frequency he was on, it was as open as he could make it. He tried again, "2nd MK Interceptor Squadron to Sword's Sheath, come in."

Another half a minute of silence followed.

One of the squadrons pilots, in Avenger Six piped in, "Maybe they're not hungry?"

Flipping back over to a secure squadron line, "Six, please refrain from personal comments. Flight three do a fly by past the base, let me know if you see anything. Everyone else form up around our escort."

As flight three did a fly by the rest of the ships waited. They encountered nothing as they went past. Due to the incredible speeds of the TIE Avengers, it was only five minutes later that three flight had grouped back up with the squadron.

Another of the squadrons pilots came across the comlink, obviously uncomfortable with the silence and lack of movement, "Order sir?"

The pilots of the transports themselves had recommended just dumping and running but Evant had convinced them to stay put for the time being. Perhaps the twelve highly powerful weapons of war floating around in space around him kept him in line with whatever the Tarenti wanted.

"I am going to try to get a hold of the Magnus Kaerner. In the meantime. Stay sharp. We're going to do some waiting. Nobody falls asleep or we torment them mercilessly for the next month."

Silence followed.

[OOC: I have updated my post to reflect real time travel to the Itaana Belt, instead of inner system hyperspace jumps due to their difficulty per Rekio's request]

Hades

29-01-2008 03:14:26

No new messages.

The steadily blinking words on the screen in front of him told the whole story in a nutshell. He had sent Telona a few messages quite a bit earlier. Though she usually takes time to reply due to fact that she chooses her words carefully while speaking with him, this is even unusual for her. The possibility of her still being upset with him tugged at the back of his mind. Though he wondered if she ever stopped being upset with him for the past six years. He chuckled to himself on that note.

Apollo stood and streached. His squadron was on standown for the next 16 hours and he planned to catch up on some rest and paperwork. The "Super Second" as his pilots had began to call thier new squadron, was infact the 2nd Space Superiority Squadron. Made up of all TIE Defenders, it represented half of the ISDII Magnus Kaerner's strong fighter arm. While fully trained, his pilots were not fully battle tested as a squadron yet. He just hoped he could get them that way before he would have to start writing letters home.

His comlinked beeped. Grabbing it off the desk he answered. "Apollo."

"Apollo, Scion. You got a minute? I have something you should see." Apollo checked his watch and replied.

"Yeah, I got a bit. What's up?"

"Just come to the secondary bridge. Gladius' personnel seemed to have went quiet. There's a shipment of foodstuffs and water waiting to be offloaded and no one is answering the doorbell." ACO Scion, Apollo's apprentice and long time friend, replied.

"On my way.." Apollo grabbed his utility belt and ran out of his quaters, snaping it in place as he went.

As he began to review the incoming information on Gladius, what little there was anyway, he also noticed the report of the murder of an officer on the nearby platform. Then came the reports of the contaminated food and water and basic civil unrest spreading through the system.

"I soooo hope this is all a random thing, and not planned." Scion said sipping his caf as his eyes darted from one report to the other. Apollo studied the reports again and again.

"It's possible either way you go. But I think there is something or someone behind it." he said before reaching into a pocket in his flight suit. Grabbing his datapad he typed up a messaged for Telona and routed it to her personal pad and not through Clan channels to her desk. He had to make sure she was all right.

"You know, you always think the worst." Scion said with a grin. Apollo chuckled.

"Yeah, well Murphy's Law seems to be setting up permanent residence in the system. So watch out for more of this stuff, because there will be."

As he got up to leave, he turned around. "And keep me posted about Gladius, will you?"

"Of course." replied Scion. And with that, Apollo returned to his quarters hoping sleep would be swift and the nightmares not to return.

Kazarelth

29-01-2008 12:28:00

“Sir…” One of the Avenger squad-members meekly spoke up.
“What did I say now, five? I said two simple words. Shut up.” Evant was losing his patience. The Krath Jedi Hunter looked around at the empty space. The asteroids looked beautiful. Agents of quick death to those inexperienced here. The Sword’s Sheath was hidden among these asteroids. Invisible to practically everyone.

Magnus Kaernar, this is the second MK Interceptor squadron. We cannot find the Sword’s Sheath on the comm.. Your orders?” Evant spoke up.
“Trying to resolve problems, squadron leader. Stay put.” The link died abruptly.

He sighed as he relayed the orders to his wingmen.

--

“I don’t care what you do, officer. You will get me the Magnus Kaernar, or the Prince on that comlink!” Telona Murrage’s usually placid features were blistering with rage. The Adept’s slim body was trembling with rage. Her mind constantly being attacked by the Force impulses of all the residents of the Sword’s Sheath. Their irritating views and murmurs and mumblings.
“Er… Ma’am. The… uh… comm. link has died.” The officer garbled inaudibly, as a droid brought a small report to him.
What?” She asked incredulously.
“I fear so, ma’am.” He gave the report to the woman.

Telona’s wits were wavering. The Sword’s Sheath was experiencing an invisible blockade. There was no chance that this could happen. None at all.

--

“Karel. I need to go to my ship.” Kazarelth stated very simply. The conference was over, but the Omwati was far from being well. His eyes were still looking weak, and devoid of rest. “The Reqiuem has requested my presence due to a large influx of refugees. My XO tells me that it would be a good ‘experience’ for me.”
“I’m not sure, Kaz. You look terrible.” Karel said.
“I want to, Karel. I’ve been stuck up in this ship for too long. I want to be back in one that actually cuts through space.” He murmured, “and besides. I’ll catch up with sleep on my way.”

Karel perused through his Aedile’s body language. The Knight’s Force powers were advanced. To the extent that the Battlemaster had to consciously use his tendrils to read the young Omwati’s mind, whereas he would carelessly read any other Knight’s mind as if it was an unclaimed book in an empty hall.
Kazarelth was going through a period of transformation, as he knew. His senses had become more acute, and his Force-powers, more discrete. His necromancy outshined his Quaestor’s. Yet there was a tumult in his being. He was making numerous mistakes in his work. He fell into lapses of concentration, unable to remember what had happened in that lost time.
However, he also knew that he loved commandeering his ship. This would be his first field day with the Reqiuem. Maybe that would restore his focus. His Executive Officer was an experienced man, serving with him during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong. And the young Krath found solace within the man’s advice.
It could help.

“Alright, Kaz. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

--

There weren’t many shuttles going from the Aegis to the edge of Yridia space. The flood of refugees from the Dark Council station to the platform was immense.
The pilot of the Lambda Class groaned as he ferried the sleeping Omwati out of the Aegis platform. He had been looking forward to a good night’s sleep in the platform. Instead, Command had ordered him to ‘deposit’ the Dark Jedi to the Requiem. He powered up the hyperspace drives, and groaned again. His passenger was sleeping. A cat’s nap, but well, he was sleeping.
He groaned one last time.

Welshman

29-01-2008 13:30:58

The container of viscous, syrup like coffee lay forgotten on one of the many banks of communication gear which made up the starboard crew pit of the Magnus as Warlord Welshman Corsair stood hunched, intently focusing his electric gaze on the signal reception graphs. Sword's Sheath was dead. Swearing softly to himself he input another of the back-door codes he had learnt during his tenure as Quaestor of the reclusive House, nothing worked.

“Sire, we're getting requests for orders from both our squadrons. What shall we relay?”

Straightening up from the console the Warlord cast a wistful gaze towards the half finished caf and its nectar-sweet smell before turning to the XO Orbalisk armour flexing to accommodate the change in stance. Whilst not the technical commander of the vessel, that position fell to his old apprentice Adien Corsair, due to the Sith Warrior being away at Castle Tarentum administrating to the running of House Tridens his flag rank had bestowed him the command.

“Order the patrols around the previous known location of the base to be stepped up, the cloaking device will make the base impossible to locate if they aren't broadcasting. Call Castle Tarentum and requisition more of the fleet out here, we might have a situation on our hands.”

“Aye Sir. Sending the scrambling order to Apollo's squad.”

“Do that. Status on the assault shuttle en route to the Council station?”

“Ehh... Raiju's squadron is escorting the commandos in to dock. Arrival T-minus five minutes.”

Nodding the Admiral returned to the comms station and once again tried to force his way into the invisible base's invisible computer core...

--------------------------------

The fifty armour clad commandos sat bolt upright in the back of the Gamma held their emotions in check, matte black armour plates reflecting the blandness of of their emotional states. Cool, calm and professional; the epitome of Tarentum's military arm and equipped and trained as such. The shuttle minuscule and seemingly lost amidst the gargantuan tramp freighters and transports ploughed on regardless, the communication systems squawking with furious rebukes and insults from the queuing refugees as landing slots and orbits were stolen or intruded on by the soldiers.

Dipping through the multitude of vessels the troop ship breached the magcon field saving the system's precious life giving atmosphere from the cold merciless vacuum. Descending on the craft's repulsors the shuttle was brought to a gentle landing. Doors opening the platoon trooped down, feet padding against the hard surface, footfalls echoing around the empty hanger bay.

Signalling for his troops to move forward the Lieutenant breached the boundary into the main immigration zone and into chaos...

The customs vestibule was packed with hundreds upon hundreds of displaced, ragged aliens. A wall of sound and the mingling smell of alien sweat and fear filtered through the protective visors of the commandos. A small prickling of fear tingled up the spine of some of the Tarenti warriors as the magnitude of the task before them became evident. They were here to try and bring order to chaos...

--------------------------------

Carbon dioxide snow settled on the exposed roof of Poen Plain complex Two's hanger bay, the personal fiefdom under the control of Welshman. The lonely outpost of Tarentum shipped ton upon ton of metals and minerals to the overlords of Yridia, all quiet and unnoticed or so the Dark Jedi thought.

A huge explosion ripped through the roof of the hanger flash-melting the ice into carbon steam and dark, plassteel ash. Streams of molten metal meandered across the shaken glacier pouring into the fractures now cracked deep into the once impenetrable permafrost.

Light-minutes away in the control centre of Castle Tarentum yet more alarms howled their shrieking message.

Raiju

29-01-2008 16:21:04

As the nose of the troop shuttle penetrated the transparent wall of the magcon field, the tired Ryn said a silent pray for the individuals inside knowing that whatever the issue mean be on the platform it would not be easily corrected with all the bodies on board. Increasing the throttle of his TIE Avenger pushing it from its drifting place outside the platform’s hanger into causal speed, Raiju steered his craft wide of the complex into open space again so his flight could form up. Neither formation nor status reports on each craft’s fuel supply took long, and neither showed concerning signs for the moment. Leading his flight back towards the Refugee Sector, the Ryn turned his comm to the local chatter. Nothing was too out of the ordinary for the moment; Flight 2 had warned a transport that it was coming too close to the edge of the designated area, and Flight three had just finishing welcoming a new transport to the system and escorting them into the query. However, one of the transport in the query was impatiently sending multiple hails the platform without any responses. Obviously the platform had become tied up with their issues onboard and forgot about this guy. Activating his comm, Raiju answered the ships hail.

“Transport ‘Rhine’, this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Raiju Kang. The platform is currently tied up for now, what’s your issue?”

“My issue?” A raspy voice answered, “My issue is we have been waiting in this query for three days and finally have been given the chance to approach and have yet to be given any landing coordinates.”

“My apologies for the situation, Rhine. We are currently in the midst of a changing of the guard onboard the station.” Raiju lied through his teeth, no need to get them all panicked he thought. “Please return to the Refugee Sector, once the change is over I’ll alert the platform and escort you in personally.”

“This is bantash-” The voice started, but Raiju turned down his headset to cut off the complaints of the pilot. He didn’t need to hear it, either the pilot would return to the area or not so there was no use listening to all the foreplay. Almost immediately the ship began to compile, and Raiju watched as it made its way back. However, just before the craft reentered the designated zone a new voice can over Raiju’s comm; this time from Avenger Ten, the squad’s communication officer.

“Lead, I’m picking up some chatter from the Refugee Sector. Several minutes ago I picked up the end of an encrypted message being bounced out of the system and sent it to the intelligence division on the Magnus; however, now I’m getting feed from a new channel established between several of the freighters.” The sweet voice of Cassandra stated, filling Raiju’s head with ideas of the naughty whispers she could say to him in private. Unfortunately, despite the sexiness of her voice the women had the face of a mynock that even the haze of alcohol couldn’t better. Even if it did, it’s not like Raiju would go where Xayun has been.

“Can you patch me in, Ten?” Raiju replied, and within several moments and after a brief buzz of static; a familiar voice filled Raiju’s ears.

“…besides, it’s not like a single squadron can stop us all.”

“No, but I’m more worried about that star destroyer and the other squadrons it can launch.” Replied an nonhuman buzzing voice in basic.

“Would you rather risk being vaped, or face the inevitable starvation of you and your crew while waiting in this query?” The first voice answered.

“Ten, who is the first speaker?” Raiju said over the squadron channel.

“Transport Omega-Two-One, the one we just herded back into the sector roughly twenty minutes ago.” Cassandra replied.

Hmm…, Raiju thought, seems like I should have just blown him away. “Alright, alert the Magnus about chatter and ask them to place Xayun’s superiority squadron on standby.” Raiju ordered, “everyone else form up, we’re going to escort the troublemaker out of the Refugee Sector and place them under arrest for public disturbance.”

Donitz

29-01-2008 19:47:00

Processing Station "Eden Greenturf"

Oblivious to the mysterious goings-on above him, Dark Adept Doni Tzu had been on field inspections for several hours now. With three whole army groups stationed inside and around what was essentially only one large city, Yridia IX Army contingents were garrisoned in tight spaces. In all reality it was a logistical and operational nightmare. The Yevethan did not understand how nearly anything could be done in secrecy here. Regardless it was the same story at every installation, outpost, or depot; stolen wire, stolen cases of spent ammunition, stolen food. Highly annoying but nothing strange. That circumstance, however, was soon to be terminated.

The day, if it could be called that, was waning. Yridia IX was so far from its parent star that even daytime was nothing more than enhanced twilight, and even that was a boon from colossal reflector dishes high in orbit. Night was setting in but the General would not rest. One did not need the Force to tell that the Major in charge of the station wanted to go home, but the Yevethan was anything but easygoing. Still, why his General wanted to inspect a ore transfer station was beyond him. They stood outside the command center of the base to enjoy the relatively good weather and the intermixed twinkle of stars and far-off transports in the sky.

"Major..." Doni Tzu glanced at his uniform "Brentan. What did you sssay this sstation is for again, and what'ss being ssstolen?"

"Sir, this complex is a routing point for lommite processing" Brentan began. "Lommite bars weighing several tons are dropped here by smelting operations to be loaded en masse for destinations off planet."

"Right, lommite..." the Adept trailed off. "And we're guarding it because it's rare" he inquired rhetorically.

"Yes sir." The Major did not quite see where the relatively small gray Yevethan was going with this, but kept his reply guardedly monotone and matter-of-fact.

Doni Tzu looked up into the Major's eyes after briefly scratching his chin in thought. "You have an entire battalion of unmounted mechanized infantry to guard thisss complex. Do you believe you have adequate forcess to accomplish your objective?"

"Under normal circumstances, sir, yes. However with several hundred warehouses and squatter camps appearing right outside our fences, it is impossible to keep patrols going all the time. This is, I believe, what has led to the theft problem" the Major asserted.

Looking into the distance, Doni saw at least twenty warehouses out to approximately five kilometers. This duracrete complex of thin metal buildings and dim lighting was quite vast and the Major's complaint was valid. However, this round of thievery was quite different from all the rest - lommite was actually valuable. Not to mention, what thieves would pick up several-ton bars of the mineral? Something else was afoot here, and it was only by his persistence that it was discovered. Turning slightly to leave, Doni brought up his hand halfway to salute before he paused and turned his deep green eyes back towards the Major.

"When is the next large shipment coming in, and where is it being dumped?" he inquired.

Brentan stiffened and shot back quickly. "2200 hours local time, sir - warehouse 87. Far end of the complex."

Composing himself the Yevethan saluted the Major before adding, "I want a sssquad of your finest men to rendezvous with me here at 2100, and we will go sssee if something happens at warehouse 87." The Adept paused in thought, looking aside and then continuing - "Make sure you broadcasst something in the clear about the shipment, ssay you need to make room for a large quantity of lommite bars or sssomething. We'll ssee if someone swallows the bait. Have your remaining forces continue their patrols as normal."

The human and the Yevethan saluted and parted ways.

Transport Gonederag - low Yridia IX atmosphere

Dralin pocketed his newly acquired datacards as he rounded a corner. A transparisteel window in the far hall reflected lights and the haze of atmosphere rushing by - they were definitely landing. Muffled voices suddenly broke his reverie.

"Listen, screw those guys," a bellowing, commanding voice asserted. "Whoever that guy was, he's apparently very good at staying alive. Even if he is intelligence for the rulers of this system, so what? He knows nothing."

And now for a complainer. "But we can't risk it!"

The bellower again. "Shut up! We'll be on the ground in five minutes anyway. You really want to attract the attention of the crew and have them call local security out here to the landing pad? Let's just go." No response to that. After a few seconds, though, the journeyman distinctly heard a low electronic buzz that contained a voice. Comm chatter, he reasoned.

The alpha male of the group spoke again. "Good news guys, sounds like we've got work already. Forsit," Dralin guessed that was the name of the complainer, "since you want to do something so bad, go rouse the rest of the company. We've got a warehouse to hit over at Eden Greenturf."

Certainly while a Journeyman, Dralin Vhett was no fool, and made sure to tuck that bit of information away in his mind. Something big was going down right now.

Just at that moment, a high pitched whine of the transports engines implied imminent landing, and true to form, it lurched, shuddered, groaned, and then everything stopped. As he made his way towards the main cargo hold, the miserable and putrid-smelling masses of refugees crowded around him. His attackers blended in with the crowd, but he knew where they were going. Unfortunately he did not have the time or even the resouces to warn anyone yet - he would just have to follow them and hope that a new path opened itself up, or at least some new information.

Eden Greenturf, Warehouse 87, 2150 local time

A huge repulsorhauler slid a pallet of ivory-white lommite bars onto the ground outside the warehouse. That was twelve pallets of ten one-ton bars each, Doni Tzu mused - and a sizeable sum of credits as well. With the poor lighting of the complex, especially in stark nighttime, the small lizardlike alien and twelve heavily armed infantrymen from the attached battalion of the 28th Heavy Infantry division were easily concealed by some moving equipment near the fence.

Suddenly on the other side of the warehouse that bordered fence, a much larger repulsorhauler literally jumped the fence and floated in the alley beside the building. The vehicle had come literally out of nowhere, and almost surely could not have been seen. Four beings disembarked - the typical ragtag group of diverse aliens common to this sort of smuggling. The xenophobic Yevethan could hardly contain his disgust of their smell, which he swore he could detect even from fifty meters.

The smugglers sized up their rather large load and gesticulated variously about what should be done to get the most of it on the hauler as fast as possible. They spoke, but they were too far to be heard clearly and the Dark Adept hadn't even the mind to listen with the Force. He stood and waved his infantrymen from out behind cover.

"Ceassse your actions now!" Doni Tzu shouted as he walked towards them. The smugglers suddenly froze and stared at him, caught in the act. As his group neared the smugglers, Doni could make out their individual species and selected a scruffy but large human as his contact. Humans always reasoned the best, it seemed, and were much less prone to needlessly wasting their lives in violent but futile resistance. Only the clump of boots sounded as the Tarantae and his men crossed the few meters to the aliens, and Doni Tzu locked eyes with the human.

"I will not even pretend to notify you of what you are doing or how illegal it isss," the Dark Adept hissed. "You are coming with usss for quesstioning."

There was silence for a few, very long seconds - seconds that the Adept used to size up the situation. The first one that gave off tremors of warning in his brain is that the smugglers didn't move an inch. Not one step back. This was the normal reaction for people who were both simply smugglers, and outnumbered. These men, however, were playing it very cool. As the Yevethan's eyes darted from the human to a nearby Quarren, and then a Wookie, another alarm went off. They were all built like trucks. Also uncommon. Belying no response in his eyes, he locked his stare back onto the human's cold blue eyes.

"Is that so, you little freak? What are you, the constable? Here to 'arrest' me? And your lackeys there will shoot us if we don't go along?"

Doni Tzu's demeanor went from casual to hostile. The steady stream of Force preminitions that always inhabited his mind were now pointing at ever-darker timelines for the immediate future.

"Tell you what, grayface. I can call you grayface, right?" the human taunted. "How about you, and your little troop of weekend warriors there hand over all your gear, and we will spare your lives. Elsewise, we'll turn you into kriffing paste on the sidewalk here."

The Tarantae ignored the humans taunting, instead focusing his senses on what was immediately going on. That's when he noticed the human's hand twitch ever so slightly, and without even the slightest provocation, all four of the 'smugglers' dropped to the ground. The Adept knew that this was very bad indeed.

Time stopped.

The future flashed in front of the Yevethan's eyes, and his hands went into his robes, not nearly as fast as he would have liked. Two lightsabers emerged, one in each clawed hand, and ignited. Their yellow beams crawled into existence, bathing the immediate area in amber glow, as well as bringing the invigorating scent of ozone to his nostrils. The Dark Side rushed into his being and took over completely. A blaster bolt from the darkness bounced away and hit the concrete a few meters distant, blowing a foot-wide crater into it and sending rocks flying. The smugglers hadn't even finished going belly-down to the ground by this time. Less than half a second had passed.

The Force pushed his whole body to the left. About ten angry orange bolts hissed through where he used to be. His right hand twisted and his saber arced behind his back, deflecting another bolt. The left hand rose in a guard, deflecting a third. The bolts shot off in different directions. One into the sky. The second into a warehouse, tearing an inch-wide hole in the thin metal. The third into the smugglers cargo lifter, showering the alleyway with sparks.

Doni Tzu's robes fluttered in the warm wind as he spun, utilizing the full defensive power of his dual-wielding technique. As the faces of his twelve infantrymen spun into view, the worst was confirmed. They were all in various states of falling to the ground. The ambush was total. The nearest man to him was completely missing his head and right leg. The remainder were in other various states of dead-or-soon-to-be.

Where any man would fail, would crumple, would surrender, would give in to fate, however, was a line that the Adept had crossed long ago. Weakness had become strength. Fear had become power. Calm derision for those inferior to him was replaced by hate. And his inability to locate his all of his assailants immediately and turn them inside out, well... that was replaced by rage. All-consuming rage.

As his sabers spun protectively around his body, the total depth of the carefully planned operation came into his sight. Counting muzzle flashes as they appeared to him in this snails-pace passing of time, Doni Tzu estimated that he was surrounded by at least fifty men, all well covered. The Force told him, as well, that the original four smugglers were already up and running back to the cargo hauler. They suddenly became a route of escape in his mind.

The human smuggler ran for his life. His lungs filled with sweet oxygen as his feet propelled him towards the hauler. The plan was foolproof. How is this grayface still alive? He looked over his shoulder at the impossible whirling of lightsaber blades - the first time he had ever seen them in person. And how could I be facing a Jedi?! he cursed to himself before he looked back at the hauler. It was only about ten meters away now and the Jedi looked quite preoccupied keeping himself alive. Better to keep it that

The human's train of consciousness was cut short by his head being cut from his body. Doni Tzu ran towards the human and snarled, his eyes flashing from green to pale yellow as he felt the Dark Side rush through his nervous system like lightning. The lightsaber flew from his right hand and twirled towards the smugglers neck. Exerting his strength through his outstretched hand, the Yevethan whispered sacred words, inaudible in the terrible din of blaster fire. Just as the twirling amber blade severed the spinal cord and cauterized the jugular, the very soul of the human was ripped from his body in the last second of existence. The Yevethan drew upon it, fed upon it, and was empowered by it.

The Death Dealer's lightsaber flew back to his hand as he spun and deflected another shower of bolts. Power coursed through his veins as he felt the rage build to a crescendo within him, a cacaphony of screams leaving his lips as he leapt into the air. Time seemed to pause for his attackers as he floated in midair for a moment, and then slammed back into the ground, driving a wave of pale green energy from his body in a shockwave that ripped through the surrounding concrete. A number of smugglers who were already encroaching within a stones throw of the Adept's position recoiled instinctively, unsure of how to escape the knee-high wave of concrete rapidly coming nearer. Fortunately for them the energy wave subsided before it reached them. Unfortunately for them, a horror undreamed had been unleashed. In front of their very eyes, the sickly green pulse of energy seemed to grasp the bodies of the Tarentum soldiers they had so merciliessly slain, and instill new life into them, new purpose... new hunger. The newly undead clambered to their feet, screeching and moaning their forgotten pains into the darkness as they heeded their masters call to feed upon the flesh of their assailants. None of the smugglers nearby, as formerly professional as they might have been, were mentally capable of coping with this terrible foe, and fell upon themselves in retreat to the nearest ally they could find.

What was an ambush was now a defense - a defense against the horrible, incomprehensible things assailing the smugglers. Profit no longer concerned most of the beings there - now it was simply survival. Still they were conscious and organized enough to know that the main threat remained the diminutive being who inhabited the black and crimson robes, whirling his lightsabers in an impregnable shield against blaster fire. Impregnable it might be, it also prevented the Jedi from retreat or easy advance, and they knew that with each passing minute the Jedi would become more fatigued, and in time - perhaps much time - he would make a mistake. How long that mistake would take, they were unsure, but blasters were able to fire for quite some time, and they were more than accustomed to pulling triggers.

The odds were better but still very uneven, and the Dark Jedi was still trapped.

Dralin

29-01-2008 20:29:21

Hiding around the corner of freighter Gonederag parked in a landing pad a few clicks from some warehouses, Dralin Hakh'khar knew that the situation was hopeless to win. Nevertheless, he was going to complete his mission, and had brought something with him for just this occasion. Reaching into his small pack, he quickly pulled out what appeared to be an energy cell, and stuck the homing beacon to the inside of one of the crevices on the freighter.

At least we'll know where it's going after we get out of here, he thought to himself.

Trying to move inconspicuously through the crowd, Dralin noticed an unattended speeder. Discreetly slipping inside it, Dralin looked down at the console. Placing one hand on it, he felt the potential within it. Suddenly, he urged it to power up, feeling the surge of energy from within him. As the speeder start up, he steered it towards the location of the warehouses and gunned it. Passing through the city of Eden, the Omwati saw the pain of the people, the hurt experienced by the influx of refugees. Anger and fear brought on by too many people and not enough space for them was spread throughout, waiting to be ulitilized.

Soon, he saw the warehousing district, Greenturf. As he got closer, however, he saw the corrupted crew members, or at least a small group of them, being accosted by Dark Adept Doni Tzu Tarentae and a small contingent of guards. Powering down the speeder, the Guardian got out and moved to a better vantage point.

Dralin moved a little closer just as blaster bolts began pouring in at the Yevetha. Alarmed, the Omwati broke into a jog, trying to reach the Elder while still trying to not draw attention to himself. The looming buildings seemed to rush past to Dralin, his boots clicking slightly on the permacrete. He could still see Doni faring well against the obviously military group up ahead in the permacrete clearing, but he knew it would tire out the Yevetha soon.

Moving steadily towards the sounds of battle nearby, the stealthy Omwati creeped up on the outlying crewman of the freighter. As a couple were trying to take pop-shots at the Dark Adept, Dralin pulled out the larger dagger he had kept in his pack and literally launched himself at them. As the first crewman turned to the new menace, the Guardian's dagger had already bit into his chest. Dralin barely waited to hit the ground with the now-dead body before pushing himself off and towards the other crewman nearby. Shocked at the vicious, yet quick, death of his companion, the crewman's shot went off to the side a bit, grazing Dralin's left shoulder. Growling, he stabbed the right forearm of his victim, the dagger's hefty blade punching through it in a gout of blood. Just as the crewman began to scream, Dralin pulled the dagger out and angled it up, punching it into the neck, right where the underside of the jaw and the throat meet.

Letting the body of his latest victim fall back, the dagger still lodged inside it's head, Dralin turned towards Doni Tzu's desperate defense. Knowing there wasn't much he could do to survive annihilation, he still knew that he had to divide their attention. Pulling out his hold-out blaster from the secret waistband pocket, he ran towards them, firing off shots at random, howling and yelling like a madman.

If that doesn't take their attention away from a Dark Adept with lightsabers, I don't know what will!

Unfortunately, it did divert their attention. Soon, a few of them began taking shots at Dralin, then more and more blaster bolts began filling the air, and that was enough attention diverted for Doni to bolt off in the direction of relative safety. Realizing how deep he was in trouble, he also bolted off in that direction, letting the Force flow through him as much as he could muster in order to try to catch up. To the Dark Adept, the amount of the Force Dralin was utilizing would seem a pittance, but to him it was like a wildfire was started in his muscles, sparked by a lone lightning strike. Reaching deeper into himself, he let his fear, as well as his anger, fuel him, sustaining him as the Force ravaged his system.

To the powerful Yevetha, Dralin must have been almost comical. His first sight of the off-white-feathered Omwati was that of a howling madman, and at closer inspection, the burned wound on his shoulder, his ragged clothes, and the broken nose made his appearance even more wild.

evant

30-01-2008 00:15:58

Cockpit of 2nd Interceptor Squadron, Flight One, Avenger Four

The pilot slowly began to drift off to the land of sleep as his comlink came to life. It was his squadron commander, "Alright wake up everyone, I just got orders from the Magnus Kaerner. They are having the same issues communicating with Sword's Sheath. Five, I need you to escort your flight back to the Magnus Kaerner. Nine I need you to do the same with three flight."

It took the pilot a moment to remember what exactly that meant for him. He leaned up and took the controls of his fighter once again. He looked up and the fighter he was behind wasn't going anywhere. Then he realized he was in flight one and actually wasn't going anywhere. Frustrated he slumped back down into his cockpit chair, his excitement immediately began to cease. Without really putting any further thought into it he clicked over his comlink to encrypted the squadron channel, "Leader, Four here, what are our orders?"

The squadron commander came back in reply quickly, "Four, the same as they were ten seconds ago before you asked. We hold our position and await positive communications with Sword's Sheath."

The pilot let out a heavy sigh and relaxed back into his chair. He tried hard not to close his eyes and watched as two and three flight made the quick jump back into the system.

* * *

Cockpit of 2nd Interceptor Squadron Commander

Evant sat behind the controls of his fighter. The long waiting in silence began to gnaw at him. His mind had plenty of time to think of any possible combinations of things that might happen. He ran them over one by one in his head. Plotting out actions he might take when they really did happen.

He was pondering a particular situation of a squadron of headhunters jumping in and having his lone flight of Avengers tear them to shreds when his console began to flash. It was an incoming message from one of the pilots of the freighters they were escorting. He casually flipped over to the frequency, "This is Lieutenant Junior Grade Evant Taelyan, what is it?"

The pilot had a bit of a sarcastic tone to his voice as he replied, "Oh, sir, if it's not too much to ask, we've been here for a standard half hour. If you didn't notice there are a lot of supply shortages going on and we have a lot of crap to haul around this sector of space. If you don't mind. I'll gladly pack up all this stuff nicely, drop it out into space, and be on my merry way."

The commander pondered for a moment a harsh response to the pilots sarcasm. He however, could not blame him for his impatience. He chose to ignore the sarcasm and reply with professionalism and tact, "Acknowledged. I will consider that request and pass it by my commanding officers. Please hold."

After a few moments of communication with the Magnus Kaerner, the two transports dropped supply containers into space holding the supplies they brought. With use of their tractor beams his pilots had pulled them into a neat collection as the freighters flashed out of view.

After they were gone Evant, he resumed his holding position in the space near the Sword's Sheath. After a short time a couple of reguee transports registered about 100 klicks out. He could get a visual track on them so he knew they were coming, but nothing more about them. Well outside of communication range he turned all of his attention to these incoming vessels and alerted his flight, "One flight look sharp, we may have incoming refugees."

"Leader, Four here, permission to be not excited?"

The commander laughed a bit to himself before replying, "Four, permission granted. But still stay sharp."

"Acknowledged Lead."

As he brought his flight up to a slow speed in a casual direction towards the refugees Evant felt a sharp momentary pain jolt his mind. For a second he could feel nothing and then he got a flash. A still image of an empty office, a desk. He shook his head unaware of what he just saw. Redirecting his focus momentarily he saw the transports still over 90 klicks out.

Then the feeling hit his mind again, though this time less painful. As if someone had at first hit his brain on accident as through passing through. Now however it stuck, he began to feel things. For a moment the name of Telona Murrage crossed his mind. Then passed him.

Hades

30-01-2008 15:48:35

I'm going to kill him.

That's all Apollo thought as he quickly rolled out of bed and into his flightsuit. Securing his utility belt onto his waist as he ran out the door. He knew one of of two things.. Welshman was just messing with him and there wasn't any emergency, or something happened and he still wanted to mess with him. Either way Apollo focused on his duties. Switching his comm unit over to his squadron's private channel he flipped the unit on.

"Super Second, into your fighters now. Warm up in 30 seconds." He replaced his comm into his belt before running full tilt down the hallway. He was in the hanger in 10 seconds and in his fighter in 15. He could see his squadron just starting to enter the bay as he started his own warm-up sequence. Even Scion, who was filling in for his very sick 2nd flight leader, was already in his fighter and ready to go.

"This is One, Report in." Apollo listened as his squad began to count off thier ready status. As he waited, he checked his datapad for information and orders for this mission. Once they were finished he cued his mic.

"Listen up. We have a possible situation at the Gladius base. All thier comms are down and our people on site cant seem to reach them. We are going in for backup for Evant's Avenger squadron. As you leave the hangar make a pass over the transports that are sitting out there, let them know Tarentum has more firepower than they realize."

"Time to show the avengery boys what TIE Defenders can do." said Six. Apollo chuckled and pushed his throttle to 50% for bay clearence then to full power once clear. His flight followed suit, followed by Two and Three flights. They assumed a very wide V formation as they made thier pass over the transports, giving the people there something to think about. Once past Apollo spoke again.

"Okay, course set. Engage in five, four, three, two, one, mark."

As with so many times before, Apollo smiled as the vast stars of the galaxy streaked past him and the molten sky of hyperspace welcomed him once more. The cockpit of a starfighter was where he truely wanted to be at this point in time.

The trip was a short one and as the fighters reverted to realspace they assumed a more standard two by two formation spead out over a kilometer wide. It was a good show of force and a good way to make sure, if caught offguard, only a fraction of your squad would be lost in an intital attack. As the TIE Defenders approached the base Apollo's comm system began to blink. He activated it.

"Apollo, good to see you out here. We haven't had a peep out of Gladius since we arrived. I'm not sure what's going on, or if there is even anyone there." This came from LT (J.G.) Evant, commander of the 2nd Interceptor Squadron. Apollo smiled a bit and took a deep breath before responding.

"Well, have you preformed a close fly by? Use your sensors to see if there are any life signs within?" Him and Evant were on a closed frequency only the two of them could hear, or else he wouldn't have said that. The pause in his voice gave him his answer anyways.

"Alright, Ill make a fly by, keep a guard on the containers. And don't worry Evant, easy mistake to make."

"Understood, Evant out."

Apollo pushed his throttles forward and began a easy pass of the base. There were indeed life within. It seemed as if all of Gladius was there. The sensors showed the life signs spread through out the entire base, which is the opposite of what you would expect if the members were being held hostage by someone. Closing his eyes as he slowed his craft, Apollo opened up to the Force and reached out for an old friend. It took only seconds for him to find her mind. He touched it lightly, letting her know he was here. Her response was a mixture of emotions ranging from anger and frustration to relief and puzzlement. He poured reassurement through their link and an understanding that friends were here to help.

Apollo flipped his fighter around and opened a Tarentum Naval channel. "Okay guys, Telona and the rest of Gladius are alive and doing alright. From what I can tell, they dont seem to know what is going on. Evant, if you would be so kind as to inform Tarentum Control that we've made contact with Telona and advise them we need a maintinence team out here. This much damage is probably more than they can repair by themselves."

"Sure thing, Apollo. Glad to know they are all right." Evant said, clearly relieved.

"Super Second, assume patrol formation by two's. Whatever did this to Gladius might still be out here. Stay close to Gladius, but not too close. We don't know what happened and I dont want anyone else affected. Scion, your with me." Apollo flipped to a personal frequency as soon as his squad acknowledged and began to break into pairs.

"Scion. I think something is hiding in the asteroids. The only reason, in my mind anyways, to do this to Gladius is to do two things. First, to see and record our response time or second, to draw us away from the Magnus Kaerner. You and I are going to see if anything is hiding out there. Shut down all non-essential systems and beguin comm blackout. Use the Force if you need to contact me. This will be a good test of your skills my apprentice."

"Understood, sir." and with that, the two fighters began thier quiet sweep of the asteroids near Gladius' base. It only took an hour to find what they were looking for.

Behind a large asteroid, a Marauder-Class Corvette was quietly observing the area when Apollo's flight path brought him close enough to catch a glimpse. Useing the Force to have Scion form up on him, Apollo prepaired an attack plan. Seeing that the Corvette was at the verticle edge of the asteroid belt and knowing a quick jump could take them out of reach, he knew that the attack had to be quick. Checking Scion's warhead loadout, he smiled. Scion was carrying advanced torpedoes.

Drawing upon the Force, Apollo sent two images to Scion, first of two torpedoes, the second of the Corevtte. With an affirmative response, thier plan was set. On the count of three, they attacked.

---

Using a burst transmission of simple text messaging was a good way to keep in contact without being overtly noticed. Or so the captain of the Marauder Corvette thought anyway. His four X-Wing fighters, split into two groups, were ready to draw fire away from him if they were...

Warning klaxons began to sound through the entire ship.

"Report!" screamed the large man in the Captain's chair.

"Sir! Incoming torpedoes! Bearing 170, and coming fast!" replied the suddenly nervous sensor officer.

"What?!" Panic pours from the Captain's voice.

"Sir! We lost contact with Grey three and four!" This came from the comm officer this time. The captain's fighter escort had just been cut in half.

"Uh, Comm send a message to Gibson, tell him we've been discovered and are pulling out!" scremed the captain. A visible shaking in his right hand did nothing to calm the crew. The fact that he just went against a direct order for comm silence no matter what completely slipped by the crew. They didn't care. They thought they were going to die.

"Impact!" yelled the sensor officer. The ship shook violently as the two torpedoes impacted on the right wing of the corvette, turning most of it into debris.

"Get us out of here! Now!" screamed the Captain. He knew more torpedoes were on their way. Glancing at his own sensor board, he noticed that Grey One and Two were now gone as well. A few precious seconds later, the corvette leaped into hyperspace and safety. But not before starting a chain of events that would lead his group and the full might of Tarentum into full scale war. All over a tiny transmission.

---

"Crap." Apollo said.

"At least you have four kills. My target chickened out before my other torpedoes found thier mark!" Scion groaned.

"Don't matter. They sent a transmission before leaving, looks like it was sent via burst transmitter. Probably why we didn't know they were out here in the first place. The transmission seems to have headed towards the refugee platform. I'll send a message to Welshman, he will love to see this."

With the message sent, Apollo and Scion formed up with thier squad mates and continued to wait for orders.

Telona

30-01-2008 17:43:00

Telona looked back down at the ruins that were once Gladius’ communications array. It had clearly been sabotaged but through her choking fury she was wondering who. Deatharoc stood up after checking the circuitry over once more and shook his head.

“It’s busted. It will probably take several hours to fix if we have the parts.”

“Any idea who could have done this?”

“Not anyone here I can tell you that. The cuts and rewiring was too clean to be done without taking a large amount of time. The control center is very rarely without someone here to monitor everything.” The Aedile said as he wiped his hands off.

“Where’s Martumal?”

“Out doing patrol duty. He’s been gone for a few days and isn’t scheduled to return until tomorrow.”

“Alright then. Call up the log, I want to know who accessed to this room and for how long.”

“Want me to look for droid log ins too?”

Telona gave the man a puzzled look. “Why droids?”

“Well, for one I don’t think any sentient being had the time to perform all this. Second, I’m positive no one on this base did this. They are all loyal to Gladius and Tarentum. Complain as they might they would not take action against this Clan. Or have you forgotten that?”

“Your right.” The woman said with a sigh of resignation. “I need to go center myself, come fetch me when you’ve got something.”


******

Outside the asteroid base, things were starting to take place. Bad things. With Tarentum’s attention divided, sabotage could now take place where otherwise it could not. On Cestus’ new home, klaxons blared warning as the engines of the old Corsair started on a cascade overload. Tarentum’s underwater base saw parts of the walkways blown away, trapping Triden’s members inside as bulkheads came down to seal off the rushing water. Protesters on Yridia III began to gather and rumblings spreading through Yridia IX started to get louder.

******

Deep within the center of Gladius, the Elder in charge of the base sat in the darkness trying to clear her mind. As she did so her mind touched those hovering outside. She focused on their leader who identified himself as Evant Taelyan. He was young in the Force but for the moment she couldn’t feel Apollo and he would have to do. Silently she asked him for information on the goings on. She had been cut off for three days now and was hungry to know more.

The flight leader felt a bit strange communicating in his fashion but he obliged none the less. He gave her access to all the information he had and was surprised to feel a wave of relief come across the connection. He then received a very explicit set of instructions. He was to make sure the area was clear of any transports and reconnect with her once that was done. The cloak would be lowered and his squad was to set down inside along with the cargo containers. Evant wasn’t sure he would be able to just reconnect with the Elder but she seemed confident in his abilities.

evant

30-01-2008 22:10:56

Evant jumped to attention as his command console lit up with a communication from the Magnus Kaerner. It replied back with his recent communications with Telona and told him to proceed with her plans. The supplies he had delivered were of incredible importance.

His flight watched the two transports at the very edge of the system pass through the closest in their arc that would take them back away from the asteroid belt and towards Yridia IX where it would take on a holding pattern at the end of the refugee sector. His own flight tight in behind him as they stayed close to the supply crates they were guarding.

He took his flight on a long loop away from where the Sword's Sheath lay hidden behind ancient cloaking technology and used the force to reach out to feel any presence hidden amongst the asteroids. Confident in what he felt, the commander pulled his squadron in tight and back nearly right on top of the containers. Apollo and his TIE Defenders patrolled along the edges of the asteroid belt as they went towards refugee space. Under orders to investigate further into the ship they attacked.

Feeling he had been successful in determining no nearby threats, he reached out with his mind, opened it to Telona, much in the way he had communicated with his Master Troutrooper. At first he actually felt he may actually make contact with his Elder Master. He shook his head. Then at once he knew Telona could read his mind and showed her everything. She opened the way for them to deliver their cargo containers shortly after.

Using their weak yet effective tractor beams the TIE Avengers pulled the supplies into the hanger bay of the ancient base. Workers on the ground in the hanger aided them as much as they could. After successfully moving it inside the four fighters themselves entered and landed softly on the ground of the base with military precision as they lined themselves up.

Smiling with the pride he felt in his pilots he cracked open the door to his TIE and climbed out. As he hit the ground he met up with the three pilots that came in with him. Standing to greet him was Telona, a tired and worn out look on her face, yet she managed a faint smile.

Dralin

30-01-2008 23:29:56

As Commander Hakh'khar and the Yevethan Elder sprinted across the warehousing complex-turned-battlefield, more and more enemy combatants kept showing up. The ambush for Doni Tzu's men was well-planned, leaving little doubt in Dralin's mind that these weren't common thugs. Even so, they pushed their way out, dodging blasterfire the whole way.

Turning his head towards the Dark Side Adept, Dralin shouted, "I have a speeder! It's parked nearby!"

The Yevethan only turned his head and calmly replied, "You could not have mentioned thisss sssooner, vermin?"

The blasterfire began to die down as their pursuers fell back. It was one thing to discreetly steal from a military base, quite another to think a large group could get away with barrages of blasterfire. Dralin and Doni began to slow down a bit, but still moved fast. The Guardian, not used to the strain of using the Force like that, was relieved. He almost felt as if his very cells ached, felt them beginning to recover from the surge of dark energy that had been empowering him.

Suddenly, nearing the edge of the complex, the two nearly ran into a small group of "refugees" who were rounding the corner. Two of the four men, clearly the ones who were supposed to be giving orders, were arguing as they rounded on Dralin and Doni. As the two groups came to a halt, the group of four military men reached for their blasters, startled from whatever they had been discussing before. Adrenaline coursing through their veins, the Journeyman and the Elder were quicker to act.

Hold-out blaster still in hand, Dralin fired point-blank into one of the common soldiers' head, killing him instantly. At the same time, Doni Tzu extended one of his razor-sharp dew claws, the tip punching out of the back of the other common soldier. Turning to one of the leaders, the Yevethan Death Dealer used his claws to seize him by the head. One hand holding his hair and the other hand drawn back, the Elder stabbed the leader in the gut with his dew claw. Pulling it back out, he then used the claw to make a huge gash across his victim's forehead. Using the Force to add strength to his gaunt frame, he began to pry the Human's head open, exposing the brain and killing him. Doni then forced it open further, breaking a large chunk off the skull, and then began to feast on the brain. Feeling the last of his victim's life ebb away, he became one with the death that was embracing the Human, letting it empower him and let him gain from this killing. His victim's memories began filling him, the latest being the clearest, fading as it went further into the past. One name flared up in the man's memories: Eliad.

Another system in the Minos Cluster, the Yevetha mused as he feasted.

At the same time, Dralin and the other leader were struggling. While the leader wouldn't normally present a hazard to the young Force-user, Dralin was injured, and had been sustaining his movements with the Force. The leader slugged him in the jaw, followed by a punch to the stomach. Suddenly, Dralin started moving almost in sync with the Human, as if he already knew where to be. He began turning with the punches as if choreographed, dodging the Human's blows as if he had told him he was going to do it first. While he didn't realize it, he was utilizing his Force senses for the first time in combat. As he rolled under a roundhouse punch thrown by the leader, Dralin called a fist-sized chunk of concrete to his hand using the Force. Straightening from his crouch, Dralin pulled back, then smashed the concrete on the side of the leader's head, knocking him out cold.

Breathing heavily, the Guardian suddenly became overwhelmed, the information provided to him by the Force seeming to be too much too soon for his brain. Unwillingly, he let go of it, hoping it would be easier next time to reach for them. Turning to the Yevetha, he was revolted as he watched the Elder drop his prey, some brain left on his chin.

"What are you ssstaring at, vermin?" Doni said to Dralin. "Let'sss get going!"

Turning back to the leader he had knocked out, Dralin got an idea. Grabbing the Human by the wrist and starting to drag the leader behind him, Dralin said, "We can question him later. Let's go."

Leading the way, Dralin showed the Elder the way stolen speeder. Tossing the knocked out Human in the back, Dralin got into the driver's seat, while the Yevetha slipped into the passenger's seat. Using a tiny spark from the Force- an effort that seemed far easier for him earlier- Dralin jump started the speeder and headed off towards the main military complex.

Ziltopia

31-01-2008 02:18:03

Charon Lorccán "Ziltopia" Bláthnat watched from the shadows of a transport undergoing repairs as Telona met the pilots in the hanger, the hood of her robes pulled up to shield her light violet eyes from the bright artificial lighting of the place. Ziltopia loathed hangers due to the lack of any natural vivacity aside from the beings who flew and repaired the ships. Much too metallic and electric she thought as the buzz of the electrical currents she felt through the Force caused the hair on her arms to rise. Pilots, she thought in her native Zwelhersian, the word sounding a curse in her thoughts, they fly around in those tiny coffins waiting to die, boxed in, … unnatural. They take your hand, your heart flutters, and then they are vaporized in space, living you wanting more, haunting your dreams every night… Ziltopia shook her head to clear away the cobwebs of old memories, she had been digressing into ancient memories more and more often as of late. Ziltopia had felt the waves wash across the Force as Telona contacted the one named Evant for information on what was going on within the Sword's Sheath, if she was ever caught eavesdropping as it were, well, that might cost her dearly.

Ziltopia watched as Telona led Evant and his party out of the hanger, she was torn between following them and checking the communications array for herself. It annoyed her greatly that she could not contact one of her new apprentices who was in Tridens, what was his name again … it will come later. Ziltopia’s short term memory with regards to present reality was becoming less and less reliable. However had Anshar talked me into taking one from another House is beyond my reckoning; his smile perhaps. He always had a way of charming her, but those in positions of power always had and most likely always would. It was not the individual but the position, power, and prestige that drew her to them…always. Her studies into Force philosophy always drew her deep into delving into potentialities much beyond her abilities as a Krath Archpriestess, she wanted to draw so much of the Force that she would likely kill herself but for that tingling presence in the back corner of her mind.

Ziltopia ducked out of the hanger and followed the delegation into the passageways. She followed nonchalantly, reading a book, an actual leather-bound volume, not a datapad, as was her normal routine when walking the halls. Members of the house always saw her as the nutty professor sort, always with her head in the clouds and “oblivious” to the goings-on around her. Dangerous of her housemates to perceive her this way because unbeknownst to them she was a fount of information. Information flowed like a rushing river after a torrential rain in Gladius; especially if you had the right informants, eyes and ears waiting for a scrap of food, since the shortages that is, Ziltopia did not have to shell out so many other valuables that were her usual bargaining chips and this pleased her greatly. Contraband was useful and she had ready suppliers for the young journeyman looking for stims or other things forbidden by the leadership.

Telona suddenly turned and barked at Ziltopia, “I know.” Ziltopia gasped, shocked that she had even been noticed, her mind starting racing, knows what, how much, f*** … She was still not used to the new Quaestor, other females always seemed to ruffle her feathers. Telona slammed open the door to the conference room next to her office and took the seat of prominence at the head of the table. Evant and his crew took seats to the either side and Ziltopia went to sit at the opposite end of the table from Telona. “You will stand.” Ziltopia was shocked, Equites were never treated as bloody Novices.

Rekio Corsair

31-01-2008 23:24:23

"The sabotaged droids, it turns out, where shipped to Eden from Karideph. We used information from the shipping invoices to back track it to a droid procurement company." Whoever did this tried to covered their tracks, but not well enough: the accountants always keep financial records. Rekio alloted himself a small smirk at the thought.

"Is that significant?" Oberst queried, slightly puzzled at the relevance of the information. The blue glow of the holographic projection simmered as he spoke.

"Not really; it mostly confirms a dead-end. Karideph connects us to the Rimma Trade Route, so almost everything and everyone that comes to Yridia passes through there first. Still, we've got our people looking into but don't expect to find anything."

"So the problem occurred at Eden then?" Armus concluded.

"That is correct. Again, we've got people there looking into it, but I don't expect to find anything substantial. Instead, I'm concentrating our efforts on the events on the horizon. Too many little things that should never go wrong have occurred at once for it to be coincidence."

He's right, Anshar thought to himself. The communications blackout, the panic on the outer platform, food and water shortages; they were all serious problems, but not the kind that crippled the systems infrastructure, so it wasn't a military operation. Instead, it was like someone was trying to strain Yridia's resources even further. With all the refugees we can't ... The thought struck him like a thunderclap.

"Marshal?" Anshar called. "Can we put marines on the ground to keep the camps and cities on Yridia III under control?"

"That would not end well." Oberst stated, his years of command experience backing his claim. "Soldiers are trained to kill, not to police." His last comment resonating an air of finality.

"We're going to have problems then. Someone wants to start a riot in the streets of Yridia."

"You expect me to find resources to secure the whole planet?"

"No, just Callivan." Rekio interjected.

Callivan, they all knew, was home to the greatest density and diversity of refugees. Almost a year after the first refugees made camp, a vast majority of the population continues to live in canvas tents. The settlement itself is essentially a shanty town of makeshift buildings and tents. There are shortages of medicine and basic living supplies, and many are growing sick; and now the food rations are being cut back. Where better to start a riot than somewhere already at the breaking point.

Without another word being spoken, the men all knew what they needed to to.

"I'll leave you to it then." Anshar spoke as he faded out. Rekio sighed as his transmissions with the others ended, it was well into the night and he still had an enormous amount of work to do before meeting the Ithorian herd-leader in the mourning.

*************

In the Lyccosian city-state of Keawun, dwelt Deutta the Hutt. The ancient Lyccosian ruins that he used as a palace were among the most well preserved on planet. Still, it smelled of old dirt and regardless of the lavish furnishing he filled it with, that was never going to change. All the more reason to get off this rock and onto somewhere greener: a new system with new plunder to be had. None of this living underground like a worm.

"What is the status of our operation in Yridia?"

[“We have concluded phase one and are preparing to move to phase two at your command, m'Lord.”]

“Then begin phase two. I want the Yridia System to fall to its knees. Those Princes won't seem so high-and-mighty when they are being trampled by their own people!”

[Yes, m’Lord.]

The communication link faded out and Deutta was left to ponder the spoils he could obtain when Yridia was his. But for now, he would have to settle for this kingly meal.

Anshar

01-02-2008 01:04:52

The minds connected in a link that could not be intercepted or decoded. Even if, by chance, there was someone who could intercept the telepathic communication, making any sense of it would prove a troublesome task.

“Someone has certainly stepped in to provide food,” reported Dranik.

“The ideal public relations move,” replied Anshar.

“That’s not all,” said Dranik. “I noticed that the riots emanated from a few locations on each world, and every one of them had large concentrations of Hutt-connected species. The riots start there, but quickly move away from the center of those zones. I think the Hutts, or their minions, have established bases and are protecting them. Planetary police aren’t going to notice untouched areas, just that they have a riot.”

“So, you think the Hutts are behind it?” asked Anshar, rhetorically. Some Hutts were already established on Lyccos, and with the Vong invasion, various criminal organizations were being flushed out and either eliminated or chased to other systems. Yridia was perhaps the one system where the Hutts had little or no influence, even on Yridia IX, which had plenty of criminal enterprises crawling throughout Eden. Tarentum, though, had kept the Hutts out. “Anything else?”

“Unfortunately, no,” replied Dranik. “The other systems are just as clogged up as we are.”

“Go ahead and return home, then,” said Anshar. The way things had turned, he needed Dranik back as it was. With that final thought, their conversation ended.

* * *

Admiral Adol Pelnor stood on the bridge of the Carrack cruiser Ichabod, the flagship of his fleet. He couldn’t help but grimace at that term “fleet.” He didn’t have a fleet so much as whatever he could get his hands on. It reminded him of his days in the Rebel Alliance, back when they took what they could get and used it.

Pelnor had served as a commander in the Rebellion, but he had quickly grown disillusioned with the New Republic. With too many enemies appearing all the time, he just wanted to relax. He had resigned his commission and began to promote himself to various planets in need of experienced commanders. After bouncing around, he had finally settled into the employment of Deutta the Hutt; in fact, a month into the job, he already had orders to launch a campaign against Yridia.

His mind recalled the communications with Deutta; Pelnor was being paid well, but he was still risking a lot. With the “fleet” he had to command, he did not relish the idea of going up against the Imperial Star Destroyer the Yridian rulers had somehow obtained.

“Sir, the Neutron is reporting all systems are good,” reported his second in command, Captain Gibson. Pelnor glanced at the Kruk battlewagon off the port bow. Hutts were so petty, he thought to himself. Like so many others, especially the stripped nobles of Eliad, they grabbed what capital ships they could, and thought they had all the power they needed. “And, the Red Star has reported in. They lost some X-wings, but are intact, and returning. Their last transmission was made.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Pelnor. So, there it was: a Carrack cruiser, a Kruk battlewagon, a Marauder corvette, an old CR-90, three armed Mobquet transports, and a hodgepodge of fighters. Such was his “fleet.” With any luck, they would simply be used in the mopping up operations.

“Captain Gibson, transmit the orders to Incognito Force. They may begin the operation,” ordered Pelnor. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be just his hidden ships that got in on what was about to happen. If not, Pelnor would have to figure out something new.

* * *

The Tarentum fighter pilot, having taken over patrol while Evant and the others were on their mission, watched as the transport continued to move towards him, but it suddenly picked up speed. And it was not the only one suddenly moving in. The pilot's sensors lit up as at least six freighters leapt into a charge, of sorts. Any thoughts that this was just a group of refugees making a mass rush dissipated as quickly as the laser blasts that lanced out from the closest transports flew by. Confusion erupted and a few other transports joined in the charge.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Welshman, practically spitting his coffee all over the command console. “Broadcast a message. All refugee freighters are to stand down at once or face destruction. And call in some back up!” Acknowledgements came from the proper directions, but Welshman didn’t turn to each one. Whether it was simply a concentrated rush into the system or something bigger, he didn’t know. But, he did know that one Star Destroyer wouldn’t be enough to stop it all. Welshman was positive it could survive the battle; it was more what would happen after those ships got past him and the fighter squadrons that worried him.

* * *

[OOC note: even I make mistakes, due in no small part to not reading as thoroughly as I should have. Granted, that's not an excuse, even if I was tired at the time. But, Evant was on the Sword's Sheath, and I have corrected my post to reflect this]

Kazarelth

01-02-2008 10:44:19

“Well, Lieutenant Commander, it was nice of you to come here so fast.” Welshman’s voice oozed with sarcasm. “Not one of those ships is to get past us, Lieutenant Commander. Not one.”
Kazarelth said nothing. Everything was a blur since he came inside the vessel he commanded. The Reqiuem was a welcome change from the static Corsair. His mind was in the real world, for now. Alert with the blinking lights of the sensors display.
The gunmen aboard the Belarus were already firing the weaponry of the ship. Effortlessly puncturing hull after hull of the already decrepit freighters. It was child’s play for the gunners. It was a good thing they could not hear the last wails and shrieks the passengers of all these ships emanated as a turbolaser battery fire hit them.
Massacre. One word held sway over the Dark Jedi’s mind.
Good. The smaller word pushed it away.

“What is that?” The Omwati suddenly asked. The Navigator went stiff.
“Sir… I believe that is an M-CR.”

--

A droid had just finished cleaning up the command console when Welshman spit coffee all over it again.
The Rear Admiral could not believe his eyes. A “fleet of sorts”, had materialized from the midst of the freighter mass. The Magnus Kaernar’s XO was practically screaming into the comm. console. The rest of the patrol would take some time to come to the refugee entry point. His mind, as Welshman sensed was doing the same calculations he was doing. Two Medium Cruisers plus one Assault Cruiser plus one Star Destroyer against a horde of freighters with a Carrack cruiser, a Kruk battlewagon, a Marauder corvette, a CR-90, and three armed transports providing firepower.

“Call in every fighter available. Those freighters must not get past us!” The Executive Officer bellowed.

--

“Fire at will. Fire at will. Fire at will.” Raiju shouted at the comm. console of his TIE Avenger.
“Is that what I think it is?” One of his wingmen said.
“Cut the chatter and converge on that corvette, damn you.” Raiju yelled.

The ISDII opened its hangars and released the rest of its fighter squadrons. It was a sight to behold, yet it was lost to the confusion and turbolaser shots.

--

“Orders, Rear Admiral.” Kazarelth said in the whisper that was his voice.
“Freighters are our concern, Reqiuem. There is something going on in the major settlements of these vermin in our planets, I hear.”
“I don’t think we can stay hear much longer. Reports are streaming in. I think I just lost two batteries…”
His voice rose to the normal range.
“The Cocytus and the Doomsday are arriving, Lieutenant Commander.”
“I know but…”
The comm. line went still.
Damn you, Welshman.’, he cursed. The B/CR would not be able to hold off the capital ships for much longer. And then his exhaustion returned. The colours of the battle outside had a psychotic effect on him. He groggily looked at the screen again.

Ji

01-02-2008 19:22:11

Yridia II

Huldrych stalked back and forth across the entryway to Taras' governor's palace, the setting sun in the distance casting an eerie glow over the entire plaza laid out before him. Frowning to himself he surveyed the crowds, growing in numbers. At the first sign of a possible hunger protest he had been called in alongside several other journeymen to provide the local security with both leadership and support should things get out of hand.

Unfortunately, it seemed that was the road they were taking.

Descending the stairs toward the roaring crowd, held back only by riot police bearing stun batons, Huldrych half heartedly attempted to avoid the incoming stones. The crowd had begun by hurling softer objects but as their anger grew, so did the weight of their projectiles. Not wanting to stir the crowd any more than it already was the riot police hid behind their shields.

To his left the crowd began to surge through the plaza, pushing the security agents back several meters. The intense wind drowned out the intermittent staccato sounds stun batons igniting against unarmored flesh and the wails of protest as assailants were dragged behind the line of police to be piled into the speeders waiting to take them into custody. Dozens had been taken so far. Orders were to arrest all the instigators but there was little room left. Huldrych had been requesting support for the past hour but it seemed all attention had been turned space-ward. Something must be happening out there, but he doubted it was as imminent as the threat about to spill forth through the plaza into the governor's palace.

Lost in his thoughts Huldrych didn't notice a particularly violent protester break through the police-line, screaming encouragements to his comrades who still didn't seem ready for an all out attack. Grabbing the protester by the collar as he shouted to his friends, Huldrych brought his stun-baton around with all his might. He smiled gently as he imagined the servo-motors whining in his arm as it curled around towards his victim's head. Ahh, to be a machine. What glory. His reverie was suddenly broken by a loud pop. The electric shock coursed through the rioter's head and the sheer impact of the baton had broken the skin of his scalp at the point of impact.

The protester fell unconscious, his face twisted in an expression of pain, his muscles still twitching despite his lack of consciousness. Huldrych handed the man off to an officer who promptly dragged him away and lay him beside the other unconscious forms, piled in front of the palace steps. Apparently the local jail had run out of space.

The rioter, however, must have been someone of some stature. The crowd now seemed berserk with bloodlust, swarming forward and forcing the police backward, barely holding their line together as they moved. However with a sudden surge the crowd burst through the barricade and swarmed forth toward the plaza. The entire security line was now completely overrun and Huldrych himself quickly fell under the assault of dozens of rioters, piling atop him and beating him with a fury born of hunger and desperation.

He could feel the damage he was taking with each blow. What a waste. Armor plates dented, servomotors jammed. He was leaking coolant from several locations on his central processing unit and his photoreceptors (the one actual mechanical part of his body) were beginning to go black under the assault.

Hades

01-02-2008 22:53:53

It had been close to eight hours since the incident at Gladius' asteroid base. Enough time to rest up, eat and get in a quick shower after a workout. Apollo was just slipping back into his flightsuit as the alarms began to wail through out the entire ship. Cursing under his breath, he grabed his gear and ran towards the fighter bay for the second time this day.

Climbing up into his fighter he noticed a few of his pilots already starting thier emergency warm-ups. Smiling to himself he slid down into his cockpit. Pulling his helmet on, he began his own warm-up as the helmet sealed itself with the collar of his flightsuit.

"Control to all fighters, Emergency Launch!" the sense of urgency used by the Flight Control officer was mirrored by so many others around him. Something big was happening just outside the field.

"This is Lead, launch when ready. Form up outside near the rear on the port side." Quickly engaging his repulsor lift then his throttle, Apollo shot out of the bay and made for the assembly point. Seconds later, his entire squad was formed up and ready.

What lay before him was confusing at first until his squadron's IFF readouts were updated. Ahead of him were a group of transports making a break for the system. Suddenly wishing for an INT in the fleet, Apollo marked the lead transports of the nine or so making a break for it. It seemed the other refugees decided to stay put when the giant ISD began to spew turbolaser bolts at any foe that presented itself.

"Okay, accelerate to attack speed and follow me. One flight, we will target the first two transports. Two flight, the next two. Three flight, the two after that. Fire one advanced missle per transport then follow up with laser and ion cannons. Lets see if we can capture thease guys alive." Apollo said as his entire squadron began to move rapidly towards the enemy.

"Sir, what if they are close to escaping?" asked four, one of the younger members.

"There is no escape, Four. Is that clear?" his tone as cold as ever.

"Understood, sir." was the only reply that was needed.

The squadron were quickly approaching thier targets when the targeting recticle began to beep constantly, the computer attempting to secure a missle lock on the small transport. Finally, after what seemed like a life time, the computer found its mark. Six advanced missles leaped from the TIE Defenders like darts from an ancient blowgun, swift and silent. All six missles took less than ten seconds to find thier prey. The impacts were violent, as is usually the case. Five of the transports sustained heavy damage but continued on. One, however, was not so lucky. Catching one of the dorsal intake manifolds for the powerful engine of a very old YT-1300, the ship began to spew fire before finally being engulfed by a short but powerful fireball.

"Engage with cannons. Be careful, they are armed and I doubt they are stupid. Break into pairs."

With that, the Super Second engaged the transports. Each one battling for thier own lives and those of countless others in the system whom, depending on which side your on, were either trying to protect them or control them by fear. Only time and fate shall decide.

evant

02-02-2008 00:16:33

Evant Taelyan sat beside Telona onboard the Sword's Sheath, three of his pilots along side him. Pressure seemed to be a lot lower around the base in the eight hours he had been there. The supplies were much needed and there was already starting to be some resemblance of normal creeping through the halls of the ancient asteroid base. As Telona spoke to base personnel his personal comlink beeped.

He quickly answered it, knowing it must be the rest of his squadron, "Evant here."

"Sir, we need your assistance out here as soon as possible."

Evant quickly got to his feet without thinking and rather loudly. Telona was paying him not attention as he looked over at his other three pilots, it was almost as if she knew exactly what it was he was doing and had no reason to bother herself by asking. The commander ran towards the hanger of the Sword's Sheath, his pilots close behind him. His mind ran through all his duties onboard the station, resolve the communications blackout, bring in supplies, inform everyone of what is going on.

He and his pilots quickly entered their TIE Avengers and ran through the warmup sequences. They didn't even bother with a full diagnostics startup, only checking critical systems before lifting off and leaving the hanger of the ancient asteroid base. All four of the TIE Avengers in tight formation. Outside his scanners quickly picked up the rest of his squadron a short distance off.

Flipping over to his secure squadron frequency he immediately began to assemble his squadron, "Alright 2nd Interception Squadron reform on me. We'll follow the asteroids for a while and then begin our flight back the Magnus Kaerner. Five, inform me of everything I don't know."

* * *

Evant scanned over all the targets in the battlefield in front of him. As his TIE Avenger got closer to the Magnus Kaerner it was clear things had escalated drastically. He took his squadron towards the edges of the battle where freighters were crossing the refugee barrier and attempting to pass through. The twelve TIE Avengers in tight formation.

"2nd Interceptors, break by flights and engage the three targets I've identified. Stay close together and cover each other. These things will shoot back."

The Journeyman Commander smiled as he flipped his weapons over to quad burst. His flight in close behind him, "Everyone switch over to missiles for our first pass on these targets, fire at the same time on the engines."

As his target reticle hummed a solid tone he fired a missile towards the engines of a nearby freighter. All around him additional missiles soared past him. The first burned up in the freighters shields. The explosion barely scarring the hull. The bulky ship slowly began a turn. The second missile detonated on on the surface of the hull near the aft end of the ship over the engines, breaking through what was left of the shields. The third and forth landing direct hits. The damage had not been critical to the structural integrity of the ship, but it had slowed drastically through its evasive turn. Nearby the other two freighters had lost all engine power as well.

"2nd Interceptors form up on me, these freighters aren't going anywhere and we have a lot more to take care of."

Evant took a moment to analyze the battlefield ahead of him. Every squadron from the Magnus Kaerner was not hammering down on freighters who seemed to be making mad dashes for the inner system. Near the edge of the refugee sector but still barely inside it were ships that looked like they actually might do some damage amidst the masses of freighters. Analyzing the space around him the Commander began to run possible actions by ships in the area through his mind. He flipped over to talk with the Magnus Kaerner and get further orders.

"2nd Interceptor Squadron reporting, what are our orders?"

Welshman, having all but given up on coffee for the moment, immediately responded, "Intercept any freighters passing outside the refugee zone. Focus your attentions near the platform. It looks like a few of the freighters have taken to taking shots at the old place with whatever random weapons they have."

"Acknowledged."

Evant focused on the battle, he had been in countless combat engagements before, but his squadron was still new and his orders could keep them alive. He spotted a YT-2400 freighter who had a gunner taking shots at the station. It had cleverly situated itself between itself and the Tarentum capital ships using the station as cover. "2nd Interceptors, break by flights and engage hostile targets and freighters in range of the orbital station."

Flipping over to the One flight communications, "One flight on me, we have a YT-2400 to take care of."

Flipping over once again the missiles, he closed in on the freighter. The ship obviously had early warning systems onboard as the gunner turned and began to fire on the incoming TIE Avengers. The ships easily dodged as their agility kept the gunner one step behind them. They were a much more difficult target, especially for an amateur gunner. Evant easily got a solid lock and fired a missile towards the freighter. It was faster than other freighters in the area, but still had much difficulty in dodging the missiles. The first few missiles exploded against the shields. The vibrations shaking the ship violently. The third and forth left a crater where the gun had been mounted at the top and left a gaping hole in the hull. The small freighter began to vent atmosphere and began to head away from the combat area.

Realizing the ship was all but gone Evant chose not to engage it further. His shields immediately began to flash as they absorbed damage from a TL-1800 freighter also attacking the station. It had gotten a shot on him in a lazy turn away from his previous target. Evant quickly rolled to port. His flight following easily behind him. The gunners of the freighter had trouble tracking them through the turn. They also had more things to worry about as missiles from 2nd Interceptor flight two tore through its aft shields. The bulky freighter immediately began an evasive turn. The gunner turning and hoping to making easier targets out of his new attackers.

Reinforcing his forward shields Evant pushed his TIE Avenger towards the transport. He immediately got a solid lock on the larger target and fired a quad burst that burned up in the freighters shields. The rest of his flight was doing the same. The TL-1800 transport must have lost shields as the next quad burst from Evant tore into the right mounted laser cannon and tore it off the ship. He immediately rolled to port and away from the transport. The rest of his flight breaking off and staying in tight behind him.

Flight two finished off the larger freighter as a second run of lasers superheated and tore into the hull of the bulky freighter which was leaking atmosphere and had lost all power. Without help it would be pulled into Yridia IX by the gravity of the planet and be destroyed on impact.

Evant Taelyan finished a roll and once again examined the battlefield. He immediately became aware of the situation. There were a lot of desperate refugees out there and a small fleet of military ships which appeared to him to have launched their own compliments of fighters.

Welshman

02-02-2008 05:39:49

He frowned at the holographic sphere which dominated the tactical salon to the rear of the warship's bridge, a ball of hazy green light speckled by firefly embers representing the hundreds of ships within the local volume. This madness had to stop, ships were winking out of existence as they bumbled out of the hazily defined edge of the refugee swarm, despair and death flooding the Shroud with ever more conquests. And there in the middle of the shoal were the instigators, a few ancient war vessels that were no match for the Tarenti Star Destroyer but none the less he felt good to have the Requiem off his flank: friends were good to have.

“XO, order the fighters to clear vectors aleph-89, wampa-23 and bacta-11 then order batteries 1 through 6, 10 through 18 and 20 through 30 to fire along the aforementioned vectors. It's about time to show these mongrels what this ship can do.”

“Aye Sir, relaying.”

The tactical screen flickered as it updated, the 72 Tarenti fighters mixing with the disparate freighters altered courses or chose targets not in the way of what was to come. Noticing a clearing appearing in the fighter screen several transports decided to make a break for the perceived freedom of deep Yridian space.

“Open fire.”

Two dozen lances of viridian energy streaked from the dagger like cruiser, terrajoules of energy focused into pure destructive power ripped into the myriad ships ripping them asunder, ships exploded like jinla melons hit by a high speed slug as the beam of light powered, untroubled, through weak shields and even weaker hulls.

“Send a communication to the refugee swarm and order them to stand down. If they comply they will be spared, if no reply is received you may commence more strikes. I also want a sitrep of our forces on the Council station, things seem awfully quiet there now.”

Raiju

02-02-2008 10:24:16

The entire cockpit was filled with the sound of the screeching green lasers as they poured out into the targeted freighter and illuminated Raiju in a green glow. Pounding heavily into the shielding system with single bursts, Raiju jeered his craft back and forth quickly to maintain his position behind the light freighter as it tried to outmanoeuvre him. Following the dive the freighter suddenly broke into, Raiju felt a grin grow on his lips as his lasers finally penetrated the shields and shredded the hull above the engines. Cutting his speed with one hand to match that of the decreasing freighter’s, Raiju continued his barrage on the poor freighters as it began to flame through its hull openings. Just as flames expanded to engulf the entire craft, Raiju punched his throttle forward and ripped his joystick back into his chest bringing his TIE Avenger up and over the doomed freighter as it exploded.

Glancing at his radar as he circled back around towards the Magnus Kraener, only one word came to his mind as he tired to address the situation; chaotic. It all started with a pissed off freighter pilot trying to riled up the rest of the refugees into an escape plan from the Refugee Sector, then before Raiju and his squadron could arrest the pilot and prevent the plan a number of enemy battleships had entered the system on the far edge of the Refugee sector and stirred up this hellstorm. As Refugee transports took advantage of the situation, or at least thought they could, Tarenti fighters blasted the would be escapees as the Tarenti battleships engaged the enemy fleet.

“Alright guys, listen up.” Raiju ordered into his squadron channel. “We got to cover Aleph-89. Break to pairs and take targets. If you spot one getting away from the main group, make it your priority. The Magnus will help us with the general crowd.”

As acknowledgements came in from each of his flight commanders, Raiju looked to starboard and saw his wingman Tsar give him the thumbs up to take lead. Thrusting his joystick forward, the Ryn dropped his craft into a plunge to catch up with a light freighter that was bouncing under the belly of the Magnus Kraener, surprisingly avoiding fire like if it were the Millennium Falcon. The craft was a JM-5000, a light freighter that couldn’t have had more than a dozen or so people on board but the idea of there being innocent refugees onboard didn’t deter Raiju any. As the Ryn’s craft dropped towards the transport, he jeer left bringing his HUB across the other craft and squeezed the trigger on his joystick tightly. The green lasers fired from their places on the tips of the TIE Avenger’s wings with a chilling screech as its cannons took turns between top and bottom mounts and hammered into the light freighter.

The punishment the craft took was obvious as it bounced from impact, luckily throwing it out of the way of Tsar’s lasers as Raiju’s wingman broke right and tried to follow up with a few blasts of his own. Raiju’s technical readout beeped as it updated its data and showed a fifty percent down in the ship’s shielding. Circling around for a second pass, this time out in open space rather than under the belly of the Magnus, Raiju bounced his joystick from left to right and diagonally across as he tried to weave through the counter fire the freighter’s rotating turrent provided. The incoming fire wasn’t much of a concern for the Ryn as it wasn’t the first time he had been shot at, but his force senses informed the Ryn of the troubles brewing in Tsar’s mind. While the Ryn’s wingman was the most experienced and skilled pilot in the squadron aside from Raiju, and was therefore in charge when Raiju was absent, he was just as green as the rest of them. While he tried to manoeuvre behind the leading Ryn to use Raiju’s craft as a shield for him, the panic in the man left his hands clumsy and he veered out into space on the port side of Raiju. While usually this may not have been a concern, the enemy fire has past Raiju on his port side and now slamming into the inexperienced Tsar. Though his shields held and easily protected the Ryn’s wingman, panic got the best of him as he threw himself behind the leading TIE Avenger again, but this time forgetting to throttle back to match speeds. With a painful smack from behind his cockpit, Raiju lunged forward in his seat and whacked his head on the front consule. While the helmet protected the Jedi Hunter’s head from injury, Raiju still felt a sense of dizzyness but that may have been caused by the TIE Avenger spinning wildly out of control.

While at first the instinct to correct his projectory came to mind, Raiju had the idea pushed from his mind as his young wingmate yelled into the headroom for the Ryn to eject. Smashing the glass casing on the side panel of his cockpit, the Ryn pulled firmly on the red level beside him marked “eject”. Tucking his arms in to his chest as if trying to hug himself, the Obelisk felt his body propel upwards out of his craft. When the rocket beneath his chair finally gave out, the Ryn looked below himself just in time to see the last laser from the freighter impact his unshielded and damaged ship before it exploded.

Pausing a moment before cursing, the Ryn couldn’t help but think he was going to end up blamed for this and would never hear the end of it. As he drifted in space, safely protected from the elements by his imperial flight suit, Raiju fiercely shook a fist at his wingman as the inexperience pilot flew by - hopefully radioing for a transport to come pick the Obelisk up.

“You stupid son of a mynock!” Raiju yelled in his sealed helmet, though no one could hear him.

Oberst

02-02-2008 13:18:59

Oberst watched from the bridge of the Corsair as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. The ship lanced out into real space, between the Magnus Kaerner and the DC station. He heard in the background as Troutrooper, the Mon Cal skipper, barked out orders to the necessary stations. Turning his head slightly, in the general direction of his aides, Oberst stated, “Get me a clear channel to the Admiral. And ask Mr. Troutrooper if he’d be so kind as to fire on that lead Carrack. Concentrate on the engines, leave her dead in space without power.”

“Yes, sir,” two Ensigns ran off, leaving the others waiting for more instructions.

* * * * *

Welshman looked up from the holographic display and grinned when he saw the Corsair enter the battle. Finally, he thought to himself as he reached for a new, still steaming mug of coffee. He brought it to his lips as an aide approached from behind and shouted, “Sir! The Marshal is requesting communications!” Welshman swore loudly as the hot liquid missed his lips and ran down his chin and tunic, scalding him.

* * * * *

Oberst cocked a brow as he regarded the Welshman’s holographic projection, “I do hope the stain running down your uniform isn’t your blood, Admiral.” Oberst quickly continued on after the dry comment, “Would you be so kind as to launch transports? The Carrack is about to lose power to its systems, by way of losing its engines. I want it boarded and taken. Leave the freighters to your bombers and fighters. If they won’t stop, they are cleared to destroy them. Take down as many of those capital ships as possible. I want prisoners to interrogate.” Oberst raised a hand to the communications officer to terminate the signal before waiting an acknowledgement from the Admiral.

Walking back from the communications pit to the command catwalk, Oberst spared a glance to the melee outside, calling out to no one in particular, “Turbolasers and ion cannons should concentrate on the Carrack, lighter weapons are free to engage anything that gets too close.”

JasonHunter

02-02-2008 14:42:13

The Equite strode out the front of the governor's palace, just in time to see the amassed crowd plow through the security cordon. A large group of them descended upon Huldrych, whom Jason had met just recently. With me being in and out of the Clan anymore, I can't keep track of all these new kids, he thought to himself passively.

His emerald eyes scanned the surging crowd, feeling their anger and resentment roiling through the Force, followed by the less pronounced shock and fear of the local police who were now at the throng's mercy. Many of them lost their footing as they began to back-peddle, screaming as they went down and received quite the trampling. Most of them, however, still seemed to be determined to hold their line, they just needed a bit of help.

Reaching into his jacket--he hardly even wore his robes--he removed the lightsaber that had been hidden there. Holding it over his head he thumbed it to life. The silvery blade shot to life with a resounding snap-hiss, and most of the heads in the crowd turned. When their eyes locked on the lightsaber blade, then slid down to take in the large, muscular man holding the potent weapon, their faces went ashen with fear. Some tried to turn a flee, but the sheer number of people pressed around them wouldn't permit it. Others just simply allowed the face to settle into a mask of resignation, as if they knew a lightsaber meant death for whoever it was on the other end of it.

A handful of them, though, weren't intimidated by Jason's display. They tried to rally their comrades by pressing forth, screaming like wild animals as they moved on. Some of them were swayed by the brave--yet foolish--charge, and joined in. Once they were through the police line, they headed straight for Jason. A crooked smile crossed his lips as a resigned sigh passed through his chest. Fools like these never learn.

Shutting down his lightsaber, Jason held it idlely at his side. He saw triumphant smirks flash over his assailants face, as if the lack of the blade meant he had given up. Obviously, while Huldrych had been fairly easily overwhelmed, thus bolstering their actions, they hadn't faced an Equite before.

Shock and terror replaced smug satisifaction on their faces as they, six in all, were suddenly off their feet. One man cringed as he felt himself hurtling backwards. Five of them went sailing back into the crowd, were they landing non too gently atop their fellow crowd-mates. Pained shouts rang out from were the men had hit, but that wasn't the sound that Jason was interested in. Before him, the first of the men to break through the line hovered before him, held aloft by the invisible hand of the Force. Jason held him by the front of his tunic, and the man was vainly trying to break free. Pulling him in close, the Corellian Dark Jedi glared into the frightened man's eyes.

"You will all wait your turn," Jason all but growled. "Resources are stretched thin, and rioting will only slow our progress. Now, sit down and kriffing wait." With that, Jason let the man drop to the permacrete steps that led up to the palace. "Get out of my face." He waved his hand dismissivly as the man scurried to his feet and made his escape.

The crowd seemed subdued, but Jason knew it wouldn't last. They'd lick their wounds, then the ringleaders would convene and rethink how to undermind Tarentum's control there. Jason stood there for antoher few moments, arms crossed over his broad chest, and just watched. About half the crowd dispersed and went back to their Tent City, but a good portion still hung around, but caused no trouble as the police reformed their line.

This is going to get a lot hairier before everyrthing's over. I just hope everyone else is figuring something out.

Donitz

02-02-2008 22:43:04

Yridia IX local space

"Dammit!" Welshman spat, finally flinging his coffee cup across the bridge of the Magnus Kaerner. Several crewmen stared in hesitant wonder. Only a few seconds previous, the tumultuous but increasingly one sided battle had halted when every enemy warship jumped to hyperspace. That Carrack was so close, too, he snarled.

Nearby, on the Corsair, Oberst regarded the departure of the enemy with only the slightest hint of distant dissatisfaction. Quite suddenly, as if on cue, a communications officer spoke up to him from the crew pit.

"My lord Field Marshal, you have priority traffic on the Clan network. Your presence is requested with Consul-level clearance."

Oberst stood for a minute before turning on his heels and striding confidently towards the private comm booth on the Corsair. He did not need the force to know that this request at this time meant only one thing - a meeting of the Tarantae.

Yridia IX - Eden City

The hijacked speeder roared through the night, Doni Tzu directing the young journeyman as he wove through traffic towards the main Army station in Eden, appropriately called Eden Command. A ground-based repulsorlift, the speeder darted along a vast and towering beltway teetering almost two hundred meters off the surface of Yridia IX, affording an excellent view of the Eden skyline as well as most of the city proper. Unfortunately as both of them could see, the beauty of the city lights at night was marred by scattered buildings aflame, and the occasional city block without power. The refugee situation was definitely getting out of control.

As they took an offramp towards the Eden starport, the two Tarenti passed at least one political office building which was under siege by several hundred ragged and clearly homeless beings, a thin line of military police holding them at bay. The Yevethan turned his head to regard them with disgust while the human continued driving.

"Disgusting scum. I will be pleased when we are permitted to kill them all" the Adept spat.

Slowing near the main gate of Eden Command, Dralin pointed towards the heavier-than-normal contigent of guards, and then gestured at the civilian comm in the speeder as he turned up the volume. "Looks like someone beat you to it, m'lord."

*** This just in. Reports incoming from space control at Eden Starport and from other sources who remain anonymous indicate that government starships destroyed several hundred refugee freighters just hours ago. Death toll remains uncertain but preliminary estimates place the loss of life from between seventy-five to two-hundred-thousand dead. This horrible tragedy has left many on the surface uncertain of the fates of family members, and will surely give rise to violence in the days to come ***

Doni Tzu regarded this development with a skeptical and curious look towards Dralin as they passed the gate of Eden Command and headed directly for the command center.

Eden Command Army Communications Building

"You did WHAT?" The Yevethan was almost beyond comprehension.

The shimmering pale-blue forms of other Tarantae and Tarentum Clan Summit members regarded Doni Tzu as he seemed to totter on the edge of another shrieking, malice-filled rant.

The image of Field Marshal Oberst was the first to wave its hand dismissively. "Do not get all worked up, General. What's happened has happened. We were deliberately deceived into destroying the freighters... I am sure that the media did not tell you that part."

His rage briefly cooling, Doni crossed his arms and fumed.

"Reports are coming in all over Yridia system proper of riots going out of control. The police have broken in numerous cities and lawlessness is becoming rampant. It is only a matter of time before we must give the good General orders to employ the Army and restore order" Anshar's avatar spoke.

"We've been over this already. To do so would exacerbate the situation by causing additional casualties," Oberst re-stated.

"While quelling the riotsss iss a primary concern, my brotherss, I have obtained information about who iss behind thisss," Doni Tzu broke in again. Every projected head on the commlink turned as he relayed his story of investigation and escape from the smugglers at Eden Greenturf, ensuring to give in detail the memories he... digested... from the one smugglers brain.

"Eliad?" Rekio began, a renowned student of astronomy within Tarentum. "That place has been off the charts since the founding of the Galactic Empire. Last I knew, Palpatine exiled most of the rich nobles of the old Republic to Eliad, before stripping them of most of their wealth. Why would they be hiring people to steal lommite shipments from us?"

Doni Tzu shrugged and remained silent, and all present took this as an implicit sign of an impending decision. All heads turned in the direction of Anshar's flickering blue visage.

Anshar

02-02-2008 23:59:36

For a long moment, Anshar said nothing. His eyes closed, his hands folded in front of his face, his elbows resting on a table not visible in the hologram, the silence hung in the air. Finally, he opened his eyes; to an untrained or ignorant observer, Anshar appeared calm and reasonable. The tone with which he spoke, calm and steady, belied the anger that raged inside.

“I’ve had enough,” he said. “There will be no more refugees allowed, unless and only if they may prove useful to the clan. Sato, I am asking that you handle this personally. You will set up on the Dark Council platform. Those that you do not deem useful shall be sent on their way. I want the entire refugee flotilla processed within forty-eight hours.” Sato had once served as Anshar’s Knight Adjutant in the envoys, and even if he did not particular relish it, he was a capable administrator. He was also ruthless enough to keep the refugees in line, and smart enough to know how much force to apply. Anshar continued.

“Welshman, any new ships entering the system are to be denied entry; one warning is all they get. After that, destroy them.” Welshman nodded, but did not say anything. “Marshall, I would like you to plan two campaigns: one against that scrap heap of a fleet that attacked us and the other for a possible strike against Eliad.”

“A possible strike?” asked Oberst, arching an eyebrow. The strike against the scrap heap fleet would be easy enough, as soon as they were located. Already, Tarentum reconnaissance ships were tracing their vector.

“Yes,” replied Anshar. “I believe there are still some questions that need answering, and answers are so much clearer when we’re not sorting through the dust and rubble of a destroyed enemy.”

“And what of the rioters?” Oberst asked. “Would you still prefer to deploy the army?”

“Actually, no. I’ve changed my mind,” said Anshar. He pressed a button off image and three maps appeared. “My fellow Tarentae, these maps are for three cities throughout the Minos Cluster. Each one had a major riot recently. Follow, if you will, the progression of the riot.” A flowing red line traced the progress of the riot, moving much like an amoeba.

“A typical riot,” commented Korras.

“True,” admitted Anshar. “But, in each instance, the area of the start of the riot was left largely untouched. Thanks to Dranik’s reconnaissance work, I have determined that at each of the starting points is a large concentration of Hutt loyalists. The Hutts would stand to gain tremendously from our destabilization, as we are the dominant economic power in the Minos Cluster. I think they are at the center of the riots. Our neighbors on Eliad are engaged in something else; the two events just happen to coincide.”

“So, about the army?” asked Oberst, somewhat impatiently.

“Individual strikes will be sufficient,” stated Anshar. “I will handle this personally. After this meeting, I will put out a call to the houses for members who wish to eliminate the lead instigators of these riots. They want to destabilize us, so we will do it to them.” There were murmurings in the group and Anshar could sense some doubt. “Criminal organizations are inherently competitive. The local leaders will turn on each other and vie for power, especially if our agents do their jobs properly. Are there any questions?”

“Actually,” said Rekio, “I would like to address Jason’s rather brazen use of the Force against the mob. Potential riot or not, the rumors are already flying. Jason knows enough to be subtle when using the Force, and he knows use of the Force in public is forbidden. And I think it is very likely he only delayed the riot, especially if there is someone organizing them.”

“Riots do unleash the anger of a group of people,” said Sith, finally breaking into the conversation. “If the anger is not assuaged, it simply builds up, and it will release on its own. While I do not fault Jason for relying on his most important ally, Rekio is correct. There will be another riot, and this time, I do not believe one priest will be sufficient to stop it. If there is truly someone organizing the riots, then they must be dealt with, and dealt with quickly.”

* * *

Pelnor was dumped unceremoniously on the stone floor in front of Deutta, his employer. ‘No,’ he thought, ‘my former employer.’

[“Admiral, you disappoint me,”] rumbled Deutta the Hutt.

“I disappoint you?” asked Pelnor, a sarcastic tone creeping into his voice, wondering if it was a good thing he understood Huttese or not. “You said you’d provide some adequate support for the Incognito force, and instead you provide me with grade ‘A’ crap, Deutta. Then I get orders from your chief ass kisser, or whatever orifice you [Expletive Deleted] out of, telling me to attack because you want that platform. I’m done, Deutta. I’ll go find someone who actually gives me something to fight with, something I can command. I’d call you a sad king of a sad hill, but you haven’t even got that.” He was yelling by now.

[“At least we agree one something,”] said Deutta. [“You are done.”] With that, Deutta’s two bodyguards drew blasters and shot Pelnor several times. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

Hades

03-02-2008 01:42:25

A lot of people say that the more you see war, the less you feel. They are right. Those that see battle first hand, and continue to do so just become numb to most of the fear and excitement of the experience. It becomes routine and just another part of thier lives as much as breathing. So when even the most vetran of officers find something that surprises them two things happen. Either they quickly take control and overcome the new situation, or they dont and screw up.

No one's perfect.

"Son of a.. BREAK BREAK!" Screamed Apollo.

The Krath Archpriest's eyes were wider than normal at that point in time as his pulled his fighter into a steap climb up and over, performing a verticle Split-S. Most of his squad broke away as the new threat presented itself.

Mines.

Or what looked like mines anyway. The trailing freighter began to let loose a stream of large cannisters, for lack of a better term. Each one was packed full of explosives and apparently a small EMP charge. One of his squad found out the hard way. Super Two-Tweleve was not as quick on the stick as he should have been. The blast tore away his number two solar panel and the EMP wave disabled all of his systems. He bagan a rapid spiral that would have lasted until he was tractored back to the ship, but it was cut short by a barage of weapons fire coming from the small force of freighters who seem to be more heavily armed then they so appear.

"Lead! Tweleve's ..." Seven's lose of words hit home to everyone in the squadron. It was the first death sustained by thier entire ship for all they knew. But they also knew it wouldn't be the last.

"I know Seven. Squad, form up on me." His tone was icey cold, as usual. But the loss hit him deep down. It had been the first loss under his command for many years. But he had to push that out of his mind for now. Plenty of time for that later.

The screen that they had put up between them and Apollo's squadron was formitable. It would take several precious minutes to get around it if they chose to do so. Bringing up his tactical display he knew it would be in vain. The ships would be so far ahead that they would reach Yridia IX long before the agile TIE Defenders catch up. Realizing he had failed, he took a deep breath before switching on his comm.

"Magnus Kaerner, this is Apollo. The freighters threw up a nasty surprise for us. They have escaped to Yridia IX. Super Second is down one pilot, KIA. I'm requesting further orders."

Gritting his teeth, he awaited his next orders. He was not looking forward to the tounge-lashing he would get upon return. Nor the letter home he had to write soon after. Though he knew it would be just one among so many that would be sent that day.

Dralin

03-02-2008 15:10:04

Eden Command

While the Yevethan Elder was attending the meeting of Tarentae, Dralin was sent elsewhere within the military compound with the prisoner. Dragging the unconscious man into a cell, the commander stopped to take a breath. He had already been seen to by medical personnel, who did a thorough job cleaning and dressing his blaster wound, as well as setting his nose back into place. While all of this did well for his physical being, he was tired beyond belief. Adrenaline had been coursing through his veins for some time, and the strain on his system, combined with using the Force as a crutch, was taking it's toll. Stooping to go through the prisoner's pockets, Dralin confiscated a blaster and some credits from him. Leaving the grimy cell, Dralin palmed the plate next to the cell door, the walked across the room and set the blaster and credchip on the jailer's desk.

At the very least they could check the identification on the blaster, or use the credchip to trace where he's getting paid from, he reasoned. He likewise took the datacards and comlink, with hopes that someone around the base was a competent slicer. The datacards, most likely encrypted, might be something of importance, such as orders. Also, there was a chance that the comlink's memory could be used to determine with whom the agent on the freighter was in contact with. Suddenly, a Holonet local news report on the nearby terminal caught his attention.

*** -has finally been resolved. While all are still shocked at the reaction drawn by the Yridia Fleet in response to unruly freighters, this response has forced the remaining refugees into compliance. We may never know how many civilian lives were lost due to what officials are claiming was a "massive weapons malfunction", but we do know that we will grieve for them. ***

Shaking his head, Dralin wondered at who gave the order to fire on civilian vehicles. Even he, a Journeyman, knew that it would damage public relations more than they already were, especially with the riots. Waiting for Doni Tzu to return from his meeting, Dralin leaned against the desk, wondering what the Elders were planning.

Kazarelth

04-02-2008 00:46:43

“Are you alright sir?” The XO of the Reqiuem grimly asked Talismarr. Most of the experienced crew had seen him in action during the war with the Vong. Never before had they seen their skipper behave in such a rash, desperate and nervous manner. The Omwati would be focused ruthlessly on the skirmish. In the face of a full fleet of the Yuuzhan Vong, the Knight had appeared calculating and cold, as always. And here he was seemingly frightened of a rustic and rusted fleet.
“You know that this is, of course not the Creeping Death sir.” The Officer tried to chuckle.
The Krath Knight gave him a frosty stare. The whole fiasco had presented itself to him wildly. He had read the status reports wrongly. He was about to give wrong orders.
He drank from the eternal chalice of the Dark Side once more.
“Of course not, XO.” He whispered coolly.
Turning to the Communications’ Officer, he asked him to link the Reqiuem with the ISDII.

--

“Relay the same orders to the Belarus-class.” Welshman retorted to the comm. officer as his brain formed the words “Reqiuem”.
“Sir, the skipper wants a personal word with you.”
“What is it?” He growled to the holographic projection of the Omwati. “This better be something rational. What you howled during the battle was unnecessary!”
“Shouldn’t we strike at that heap as soon as possible?” He ignored the Rear Admiral’s previous comment.
“Orders, as I have received it, are to stay here until further orders, Lieutenant Commander.”
“And what of the events back home?”
“Those, as the council says, are minor problems of droid-firmware.” Welshman’s eyes glinted. The holo-figure that Kazarelth saw could not quite mimic that.
“Awaiting further orders, Magnus Kaernar. Reqiuem out.”

--

Huldrych suddenly awoke. His mind was still orbiting the riot, the events, and the stupidity of the Priest.
The first thing he wanted to ask JasonHunter was about the choice of his Order. He was proud to be Krath. Secrecy and subterfuge was the forte of the Krath. Not brazen display of power.
Then he stopped.
He imagined the soft low metallic whirr as he twisted his head to his side.
There were no sentries in the hospital ward of Taras. It was not a prison. It was a free place. And he wanted the freedom to do something outrageous. Not subtle, but brazen. A contradiction, his humanoid brain told him. Still, he would try.
Making no effort to conceal his footfalls, he arose and walked out of the hospital.
The chill wind seemed to usher him towards his quarters. His one sole love throughout his life was awaiting him there. His nerves tingled as he burst into a light sprint. His mind calculating the many steps he would take for the (foolish, as his conscience involuntarily added) mission.
He couldn’t care.

Ji

04-02-2008 18:55:59

Yridia II

Huldrych sat alone in his darkened quarters, the lights dimmed to keep the interfering sunlight away. His mechanical eyes (the only true droid aspect of his being) lovingly gazed over the box laid out before him. Nearly as long as he himself was, the box was made of an old wood from the world of Thule and was probably as old as its contents, though Huldrych could not be sure when the box came into play. It was none-the-less important however, keeping his family treasure safe.

Undoing the bronze latches and leather straps Huldrych went about his work with the giddiness of a child. Droids do not feel emotion, he reminded himself. But were droids not prone to excitement? He decided to allow himself this one slip. The contents in the box were everything. The box was the one physical possession he was able to hold onto during his exile. It's import had not diminished over the decades.

Laying the straps gently on the floor, Huldrych lifted the dusty lid off the top of the box. The rifle inside shone with a surreal brilliance in the lack of light. The polished wood of the ancient Charric still showed the imperfections of its original craft. The metal work had long since dimmed, but it was free of any rust or corrosion. Running his fingertips over the smooth metal of the barrel he sighed in delight. Amazing how such an object could bring such elation to such a creature. Perhaps assassination was his calling. He had spent his entire life working on droids. Perhaps he should have been dismantling them. Only the most superior droids (himself) deserve sentience and life. He would have to spend some time pondering on that when he returned from his mission.

Letting out a slow breath he gently removed the long-eye relief system from the box. Its lenses shone in a dimly iridescent gold. Though the lens coating had faded it still performed its function. Gently turning the uppermost dial on the system he interlinked it with his own photoreceptors. The two would now, at the push of a button on the scope, operate as one. Delving him into the dark world of his soon to be dead target. For the time he is all that matters, all that has mattered, and all that will matter.

With a gentleness born out of sheer respect and love he attached the scope to the rifle. Turning each screw with precision and amiability born out of decades working with mechanical parts. Assembled the rifle oozed evil and anger. One could sense the desire it had to spill forth its deadly hatred on whomever stepped in front of its barrel. Perhaps this was a side-effect of being so close to Huldrych himself. Perhaps not.

Smiling to himself (droids do not outwardly express emotion), Huldrych withdrew the power pack from the charger within the box. He slapped it into the rifle with some force... as if to excite it even more than it already was. It knew its job. There is so fine a line between machine and sentience. Incredible.

Withdrawing another pair of powerpacks he slipped them gently into the pockets of his jacket, folding them closed and buttoning them securely.

The window slowly began to take on a glow, full of radiance. Maroon. The sun was setting. He would have to move out soon. By the roof. He gave the servo-motors in his legs a test flex. Like steel, he thought. With the amount of jumping he was soon to do, he had no doubt they would experience some wear. That was what repair droids were for, however.

Slowing his breathing, he hefted the rifle. Caressing its ancient leather, preserved over the centuries, he loosened the sling. Hoisting it onto his back caused him a great deal of pleasure.

His target was already no more. Before any shot was fired, there was no doubt in Huldrych's mind as to the outcome.

Before the evening was over.

Death.

Anshar

05-02-2008 23:53:56

Sato reclined in the chair in the central office. Anshar’s insistence on clearing the platform within forty-eight hours was daunting, but Sato was well on his way to accomplishing the goal. The fact that no more transports were being allowed in the system helped. Welshman, apparently, had done a superb job of convincing new comers to turn around. And he had done it all without destroying anyone.

“Sir, there’s a family of Duros waiting for your decision,” said an aide.

“Right,” muttered Sato. They could be useful to the clan, working as ship mechanics and engineers. “Process them through, but do tell them they will be given a job that they must do properly in order to remain in system.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the aide. As he left, Sato noted that he was one step closer to accomplishing his goal.

* * *

Oberst scanned the reports again. His trackers had proven quite capable of hunting down the fleet, as he knew they would. No grand strategy was needed against the aging warships of the enemy: one powerful strike would be more than sufficient. Still, Oberst could not miss an opportunity to play with his enemies, and he set about drawing up a plan that would crush the enemy, but not before giving them the slightest bit of hope that they might just escape from the onslaught alive.

* * *

Something was stirring in Taras, again. Discontent, riled up by those with credits and willing mouths, began to simmer again. A boiling point was quickly approaching. This time, though, Anshar was counting on it. He had carefully thought this out, and it would be most interesting to see the full plan at work. He, and those working with him, would turn the tide of any riot, and wipe out the enemies of Clan Tarentum.

Donitz

06-02-2008 21:36:08

Yridia II, near Governors Palace

The faceless informant within the crowd surging against the police lines stared slack-jawed as one man appeared to throw more than a few of his attackers several meters through the air. Such a spectacle was easily noticed by his watchful gaze - after all, he was being paid to monitor exactly what this particular crowd was doing. The man knew his boss would be very, very interested in this development. As the crowd dissipated, he took a back route towards his hotel room.

Relatively empty of creature comforts, the room was obviously an intelligence gathering post. Electronic monitoring equipment was strewn everywhere, curtains were pulled tightly shut, and door locks were set to automatic. The man tossed his pack on the bed as the door closed and darkness enveloped him - only the soft hum and varied multicolored lights of the devices around him were his friends. He sat behind the miniature tight-beam holonet transmitter and punched in the coordinates for the Hutt.

Hutts, of course, never can be contacted directly. Instead one had to follow a hierarchical chain of command, depending on exactly how important or dangerous you were. In this case, he obtained the Hutt's majordomo, a vicious Rodian whose name he could not pronounce but tried nonetheless.

"My Lord Cresandapo... I request an audience with His Portliness, Deutta," he began in a whisper. The Rodian did not reply and only looked skeptically at him.

"I have information well worth his time, I assure you. The rulers of Yridia are Jedi, and I have seen one myself."

Yridia IX, somewhere in Eden City

Several beings huddled around a device that seemed to resemble a holowave transmitter, but with far more parts. Buttons were pushed frantically, the thing beeped and whirred in apparent consternation at the demands being placed on it. The same utter darkness filled an almost identical random lodging room as the Hutt agents had used back on Yridia II.

One of the party, a human, clapped his hands and pumped a fist in glee as a holonet image of several robed figures standing in a concentric circle flickered into being. The signal was unstable but it was there. Audio followed as a holodisk recorded it all.

"... plan two campaigns; one against that scrap heap of a fleet that attacked us and the other for a possible strike against Eliad."

"... large concentration of Hutt loyalists. The Hutts would stand to gain tremendously... I think they are the center of the riots..."

"Criminal organizations are inherently competitive..."

When the meeting of the Tarantae was concluded, the leader of the hyperwave net hackers popped out the disc, slipped it into a protective case, and handed it to a transport pilot destined for Karideph. As the starship captain turned to leave, the human stopped him for a moment, scratching his chin in thought.

"Comrade... before you take off, the one they called Oberst instructed another called Doni Tzu to go to Eliad. I am going to play a hunch," the man mused, and then handed him a small circular device and a picture of the Yevethan adept, which the captain slipped into a pocket inside his jacket.

"Before you take off, watch for this alien to get into a transport at the landing pad. Place the device on it. I ask you only this."

To simply hang around a starport and wait for a man was dangerous, but the captain reckoned he could fake a malfunction - besides, the Hutts were paying very well, and he wouldn't mind continuing this line of work at all. After a moment he nodded his agreement and left the darkened room.

Eden Army Command

Dralin was almost starting to drift into a well-deserved nap, standing at the desk, when a clawed hand yanked his arm from underneath his head, causing his cranium to bounce against the desk with no small amount of pain. Rubbing his jaw, he gaped at the Yevethan who had not even paused and was walking away still

"You. Alien. Come with me. You have proved usssseful so far, perhapsss you will again," Doni Tzu called after the journeyman. "Hurry up!" he added as he strode purposefully towards the military ground shuttle waiting for him outside the main building.

Dralin ran to catch up, still trying to massage the pain out of his teeth. The cruel lights and sterile smell of the military base whisked away as they stepped outside and then into the relatively spacious comfort of an armored repulsorlift, decoratively emblazoned with Tarentum Army symbology. The Omwati could not even guess which unit this particular one was attached to as he tried to make himself comfortable in the bench seating.

"Eden starport and fassst!" Doni Tzu barked at the driver.

The repulsorlift shot off in the direction requested, emergency lights flaring to warn civilian craft of the dangerous contents it bore.

Eden Starport

Exiting a heavily guarded gate which bore numerous and ominous warnings, a disoriented Dralin walked out onto the tarmac. Midnight was near, local time, but Doni Tzu was already on the pad, barking orders at an entire platoon of Army logistics personnel he had corraled into loading up a diminutive Muurian transport. A perfect cover, the civilian craft had been seized from a spice dealer several months ago and turned to Tarentum service.

Clothing, food, surveillance equipment, and more than a few boxes of weapons and ammunition were being chunked dismissively into the hold by a work party strung all the way back to the gate of men in nondescript black uniforms. Several of them appeared to have been woken out of a regular sleep schedule to be here and do this. No real effort at secrecy was undertaken as other starships and repulsorcraft zipped and flew by.

As the Muurian's engines seemed to start of their own accord and blanket the pad with deafening noise, the scowling face of the Yevethan affixed the attention of the young journeyman as he pointed viciously at the ramp up into the tiny freighter. "Get in," his body language ever-so-clearly communicated.

The Omwati apparently had no choice. Fortunately the noise seemed to deaden considerably once they got into the ship, the Yevethan following behind him. A tiny cabin was gruffly pointed out to him, and Dralin tossed his meager possessions inside before throwing himself bodily into a rather comfortable copilots seat and rubbed his sleep-deprived head. Doni Tzu was working the controls feverishly, the ship apparently fighting his urgent requests.

"Where are we going?" Dralin inquired, hesitantly, his first real attempt at conversation that entire evening.

"I have been ordered to Eliad to invessstigate what is going on. You are coming with me becausssse I told you to."

"Oh" Dralin mused, rolling his eyes at his fate and sighing in resignation. Then he looked back at the thin, bony adept, hard at work at the controls.

"Why?"

Doni Tzu stopped for a moment and looked at him with an annoyed impatience before striking a few more buttons, causing the ship to lurch sickeningly into the air.

"The mercenaries we were fighting probably originated from there. The Elders wish to know why Eliad wants to steal from us."

"I see," the Omwati only half told the truth. The reasoning was obvious, but he still didn't entirely see his place in things.

Of course, thinking things is dangerous around beings such as a Dark Adept.

"You will, in time" the Yevethan returned, much less hostile this time. Dralin frowned at having his thoughts probed, but the Adept seemed helpful rather than his usual scowling self.

"How much time, my lord?" he inquired again.

The ship seemed to be on autopilot as it headed into the sky and Doni Tzu turned towards his much younger and more inexperienced compatriot.

"Trials such as the one we are undergoing now are opportunities for us to expand our control of the Dark Side. When we are placed in danger, under stress, our deepest emotions reach out to save us - anger, fear. You should cherish the opportunity to be given a trial such as this one. It will lessen the time it takes you to see your place in this universe."

Dralin looked down in thoughtful respect, noticing that the Adept's accent disappeared when he was not speaking in an authoritative manner.

Doni Tzu looked back out into the stars as they cleared Yridia IX atmosphere - what little of it there was.

"My visions of the future have been dark of late, journeyman. The days forward into which I can see are getting fewer, the alternate timelines growing narrower. I have no explanation for this..." Doni trailed off before looking back at Dralin, meeting his glance firmly in a rare show of complete honesty.

"I am not confident that a positive outcome awaits us." the Adept murmured.

Dralin swallowed hard. A lack of confidence for a being as powerful as a Tarantae made him feel very small in the universe indeed.

The transport shot into hyperspace.

Karideph

The Rodian majordomo snickered words into the ear... or what could be best described as the ear, of his liege, Deutta the Hutt. Deutta laughed a horrible, fat-jiggling laugh, as only Hutts and reportedly certain whales of the great oceans were capable of. The Hutt waved a vestigial hand, dismissing his second in command from the room even before he finished laughing. Completely alone, he beckoned another forth in Huttese.

*Come out of the Shadows* he spoke.

Yann-Amra of the Yuuzhan Vong approached the Hutt, although it repulsed him to do so.

"Disgusting as you are, Deutta, your contacts are wide reaching and I am here. The warbringer has your voice but only for a split second. What is it that you say you have to offer us?"

Groping a hidden button on his command console, a holo-image of the Tarentum Muurian transport sprung to life, and he chuckled a bit.

*This transport contains a Jedi. I promise you* he flatlined.

If the Vong were impressed, he didn't show it. His eagerness, however, to eradicate all Jedi was a trait he shared with all of his species.

"And I assume you will trade his destination for a price," the hideously scarred Vong inquired, clearly already knowing the answer.

*Indeed I shall*, the Hutt returned.

"We will spare your life and the existence of this miserable backwater colony for another six months, and reward you with the promise of not killing you when we do get here, Deutta. That is all the God of Pain promises." The Vong was eager but not stupid. One Jedi on a galactic scale was nothing. He could afford to pass this up or even threaten the Hutt if he wanted to. Deutta would do nothing - to kill a Vong messenger would invite certain death. Yann-Amra turned to leave.

*Wait,* Deutta belched. The Vong halted in his tracks but did not turn around.

*I have more to offer. The planet this Jedi is going to is a competitor of mine. If your glorious armies would be so kind as to take care of them... I can lead you to many more Jedi...* Deutta dangled the bait in front of the vong's nose, tempting him.

"How many more?" Yann-Amra called, looking over his shoulder.

*Hundreds*, the Hutt replied with a grandiose sweep of his flabby arm.

"What?" The intendant Vong was shocked as he turned back to regard the crafty alien slug in front of him. Such a huge number of sacrifices, Jedi sacrifices, was never heard of before, nor ever within their grasp so easily.

"If what you say is true.. we will pay any price. Give us their heads, that the blood of these infidels might quench the thirst of the gods."

Deutta chuckled his disgusting laugh again.

*All in good time, my friend, my colleague. I will give you this one here, as a sample of my goodwill. He is going, coincidentally, to the same planet I want you to wipe out. They have been a thorn in my side for some time. The planets name... is Eliad.*

No further conversation was needed. The Hutt tossed the Vong the transponder which was beeping away with the location of Doni's transport, already quite near the aforementioned planet of ex-nobles.

Eliad, President's Meeting

Rozhian Fast frowned at his co-presidents in frustration, seated around him at a circular table.

"No, we don't have any answers. The lommite retrieval team has not been heard of since two days ago. Our requests to Deutta are going unanswered or stalled."

The other six presidents around the table, all descendants of the first nobles to be exiled here, murmured angrily amongst themselves.

"Look, we have few other choices," Rozhian said, a bit louder this time. "Our planet is destitute. We have nothing of value. Linking up with the Hutt was the best thing that has ever come to our planet. Would you rather deal with a Hutt, or endure another one of the famine revolutions such as we had two years ago?" Fast spread his hands outward, pleadingly.

"This is our best solution. With the galaxy in turmoil no one will notice our actions. The Hutt has preoccuped the rulers of Yridia with their refugee riots. This is a safe and virtually foolproof plan. We will find out about the lommite soon enough, I am sure." That seemed to reassure most of those present at the table before Rozhian began again.

"The day will come, soon enough, when the income from this adventure will allow us to finally upgrade our military to modern standards, and then we will simply wipe the Hutt from the face of his little crime-filled backwater on Karideph. Soon, Yridia may be ours for the taking."

Fast grinned predatorily, his last words bringing smiles to the rest of the presidents at the table as well. Though not the nobles who originally settled here, their desire for greed had certainly been carried in their bloodline. Unfortunately for them, the Hutt knew this all too well.

Roseamon, Capital City of Eliad

Roaring into the bright afternoon sky, the Tarentum transport angled down towards a series of open-air hangars on the outer rings of the city. The landing pad was the furthest from their destination - the capitol building - but it would arise the least suspicion. According to their nav transponder, they were picking up a very real shipment of duracrete sand base for shipment to a processing facility on another planet. Such a cover would also stir no suspicion, but this is the way things are on most planets - you are not in trouble until you actually get into trouble.

Descending vertically into a hangar, Doni Tzu was already shutting the ship down as he looked at Dralin. "Our sand pickup isn't for three days," he said, overemphasizing their exceedingly boring payload. "Let's go."

Grabbing previously prepared packs consisting of some food, clothing, money, and small weapons, the two Dark Jedi departed into Roseamon's bright evening - exceedingly bright considering that they had just gotten used to the eternal twilight of Yridia IX. The residents of the city were not exactly Deep Core cosmopolitan but they were still proud and determined as they went about their daily business. Dralin hailed a repulsor-taxi which sped them to their hotel, nestled in the heart of the governmental district of the capital. Idle chatter of their surroundings was shared between the two, with the young Omwait noticing something in particular as he pointed towards the skies.

"You notice, my lord, there is very little commerce going out, or coming in for that matter. Definitely not like the skies above Coruscant, or even some outer rim planets."

The Yevetha nodded an affirmation and tucked that away. Stealing lommite could be an excellent supplement to governmental income, with the material going for a high premium due to scarcity.

Night fell quickly and with great darkness. With a moon composed mostly of dark carbonaceous material, it reflected little of Eliad's nearby star, turning every night almost pitch black. Exiting their separate hotel rooms and meeting outside, the pair of Tarenti made their way towards the residence of the Command President, one Rozhian Fast - easily identified from numerous pamphlets and tourist brochures. Naturally, being so highly publicized it was well guarded, but none of these guards had so much as encountered a Force user in their life. Stepping out from an alleway, the nondescript black robes of both Tarenti fluttered in the breeze as they reached the steps of Rozhian's house, and were halted by two guards. A mere gesture from Doni Tzu's hand turned them both from alert and living beings to twitching masses of cooling flesh on the sidewalk.

Fast awoke, feeling something scratching on his cheek. Waking from the mist of sleep, he vaguely perceived two yellowish eyes in the darkness. Stark terror gripped his mind as he recoiled beneath his sheets.

"Now now, Fassssst," the voice hissed, "No need for that. Tell me everything about Yridia."

Fast saw a glint of pointy teeth broach the darkness before he lost consciousness.


**********


Dropping from a second floor window, Doni and Dralin glanced around, certain there were no onlookers.

"By the Sith," Dralin gasped, apparently out of air despite not having done any running. "I've never seen so much blood."

"Ssssometimes" the Tarantae hissed, blood spraying from his teeth into the air, "the blood holds the key."

"Please tell me next time you're going to eat someones brain" Dralin groaned, half begging as they began to walk back towards their hotel. Alarms wouldn't start until the next guard shift came in and found all the bodies; they had plenty of time to get away.

Doni Tzu wiped the last of the blood and brain matter from his mouth on the sleeve of his robes. "I will try" he lied.

The peaceful night sky of Eliad was suddenly pierced by the ear shattering wail of sirens. Both Dark Jedi instinctively ducked into cover. Doni Tzu growled angrily at the sky, whispering fiercely to Dralin.

"How could they have found him so ssssoon!" he spat.

Doni waited for a reply, and got none.

"Did you hear me, imbecile? I said..." Doni paused as he looked at Dralin, who was gape-mouthed towards the sky. The Adept followed his gaze and was gripped by a mixture of both awe and apprehension.

Both hideous and ominous, the outlines of Yuuzhan Vong warships blocked out many of the stars in the sky. Lower in the atmosphere one could observe hundreds, if not thousands of their biological dropships, all a slightly different shape and all the disgusting hue of engineered flesh. Searchlights and sporadic turbolaser fire were rising to meet them but it was far too little and too late. The small backwater had clearly been taken by surprise.

Dralin may have never had the distinct privilege of encountering the Vong before, but he had certainly heard of them. His Yevethan counterpart, however, had seen them, touched them, and killed them. A lot of them. And he knew better than to be on this planet right now. A clawed hand shot out and grasped Dralin's arm tightly, squeezing hard enough to draw blood and get Dralin's full attention. His wonderous gaze met the elder Doni Tzu's and beheld his apparent fear and urgency.

"We have to go. NOW."


**********


All in the city was panic. As if a great god had mentally seized every living being on the planet and sent them fleeing in terror of his might. Dralin and Doni were the only two running out of the city, having grabbed their packs and assembling a high powered blaster rifle from parts in each. They ran as men possessed, knowing that the Vong would cleanse the world entirely of every living thing, either killing it, assimilating it, or enslaving it for their terrible Crusade. Not one citizen of Eliad paid them the slightest mind or inhibited their movement.

The sky above the city was a battlefield all its own. The mostly antiquated and few modern aerofighters that the tiny nation had were thrown haphazardly at their foe, and their duels lit the night sky. Laser fire arced into the sky and sometimes down into the city. Fire from the Yuuzhan Vong coralskippers and landing ships far outdid the defenders in both intensity, volume, and effect, with rounds and blasts levelling buildings and blowing enormous holes into the duracrete infrastructure surrounding the two Tarenti. The city was dying around them as the full might of the Vong brushed aside all defense, imnumerable dropships vanishing below the city skyline. The more Vong ships that disappeared from the sky, the less fire from the Eliad defenders seemed to go skyward.

Crossing a city square, the lonesome pair were perhaps only a kilometer from their destination by now. The exhaustion was beginning to tell on Dralin, who panted and wheezed with every step, the Force only aiding him in spurts as he could manifest the concentration for it. For the Elder, it seemed as an easy time for him, though his remarkably casual physical state was offset by the look of extreme worry and apprehension on his face. The Yevethan scanned every window, looked ahead at every city block. The two paused at the corner of a building as the power in the city flickered twice and then died, plunging everything into almost total darkness.

"The hangar is just up ahead" Doni Tzu gestured with an outstretched finger, looking back at Dralin who did not seem to pay attention and rather tried to set out the fire in his lungs.

"Listen! There is something else." That seemed to get the Omwati's attention.

"Something is wrong. The Dark Side reachess out to me, and there is malice all around uss, but I can feel nothing alive for a mile. Thisss is not good. This typically accompanies the unworthy sssslime known... as Yuuzhan Vong." Doni Tzu hissed into the darkness, looking ahead of them.

Dralin was suddenly gripped in fear. He knew the Vong. They were ruthless, murderous opponents who bested most Jedi even in one on one fights. They would torture them both endlessly until they expired of pain or old age.

The Yevetha turned back to Dralin and gripped his shoulder, sensing his panic.

"No! We are not doomed yet. The transport is only just ahead. If we can get aboard, we may be able to run the blockade. Most of the enemy fighters are preoccupied with the defenders and are far away."

Dralin swallowed and nodded, his breathing coming somewhat easier as Doni Tzu pointed back towards the hangar, down the street.

"The Vong are probably near. My intuition tells me that somehow they know we are coming. Therefore we will do the only thing we can - we will sprint the last block to the ship" he commanded.

The younger Tarenti nodded, following Doni's gaze towards the gaping mouth of the hangar. As he was about to rise, the Elder gripped him tighter, staying his advance.

"Whatever happens you must tell the Clan. One of us must warn the Clan. Survival is not to be expected here, but the Clan must survive. If the Hutt lives, he will doom us all. You must tell them, my young comrade." Doni seemed to have a hint pleading in his eyes, but Dralin could not pin it down as such. He nodded his assent and they both rose and began to run.

A hundred meters ahead, thirty veteran Yuuzhan Vong warriors lay in wait. They had only been dumped off there by a transport three minutes ago, having skirted underneath the Eliad defense screen to the location provided by the blasphemous bleeping machine in the possession of their captain. Readying their bio-weapons, mostly thudbugs and amphistaffs, they spied the two dark robed figures rounding a corner at breakneck speed. A guttural cry from their gloriously maimed and tattooed commander sprung the trap, and they leapt forward, rushing for the glory of combat with the Jedi.

While the Yuuzhan Vong themselves could not be felt with The Force, this did not deny a Jedi his usual defenses. A mere instant before a thudbug would have impacted both of them, Doni Tzu pushed Dralin behind a duracrete barrier and ducked underneath it. The simultaneous howling of Vong warriors advancing on their position could prove to be their death knell.

"Sith Lords!" the Yevethan exclaimed from behind the barrier. A quick mental calculation of the voices in the shout confirmed his fears. Fighting one of these monsters was a chore in of itself... the thirty that he was almost certain of were overkill. Glancing back in the direction of the transport and the Vong between them, the Yevethan elder was suddenly struck by a calming sense of purpose. The future, now, was clear. The Force provided one and only one future timeline. The shouts of the enemy died as he grasped Dralin one final time.

"Listen to me, young one!" he shouted, his gaze full of intent. The clawed hands grasping Dralin's shoulders shook him lightly, pulling him out of despair and somehow giving him renewed hope.

"I will take them all. You must get to the transport and get the message off!"

"No my lord!" Dralin exclaimed, realizing the impossibility of what the Yevethan was saying. "You are an elder, I am expendable, let me do it!"

Doni shook his head emphatically. "They would kill you in a second and then make work of me afterwards. I assure you that I will provide them far more enjoyment than you."

Confusion and doubt clouded Dralins eyes as the frail Omwati trembled with the adrenaline and fear of what was to come. This is not how he saw it ending.

Before an argument left his lips, Doni Tzu Tarantae leapt over the barrier dividing them, his twin lightsabers flashing into existence. The Vong seemed to converge upon him as they focused on the hated jeedai. Dralin hesitated in his place, staring in wonder. The Elder leapt into the air, spinning gracefully as he pulled all manner of objects from the street with The Force, hurling them at his attackers. Many went down with the heavier items such as streetlamps or data boxes. Other Vong shrugged bits like trash cans off their heavy armor.

One saber blade bounced off the first Vong he met. The other twirled behind him, cutting through the armpit and neck of a warrior foolish enough to attack from behind.

What had been a momentary hope that perhaps the Elder could win was replaced by fear as he saw the small, gray Yevethan surrounded by a swarm of sickeningly scarred and maimed Vong. The twirling lightsaber blades vanished from line of sight and as he turned to run, he heard the Adept's voice pierce the sky above the din of Vong warcries. Dralin ran as fast as his legs would carry him, the transport was so close now.

"For Death! For Oblivion! For TARENTUM!"

**********

Dralin

06-02-2008 21:56:50

For TARENTUM!

Doni Tzu Tarentae's words echoed in the Omwati Commander's head as he sprinted the final distance to the hangar. Finally making it in, Dralin extended the ramp of their freighter and climbed aboard. Throwing himself into the pilot's chair, he quickly ignited the engine, buckling himself into the crash webbing as he guided the ship up out of the hangers opening in the ceiling. Dralin barely made it out as a lone coralskipper took notice of him. Proximity alarms sounding, the Omwati juked the freighter to the left at the last moment, a lava-like projectile shooting past him. Be it luck or the Force, he knew he wouldn't be able to last long at all against even a single Vong pilot.

Whatever happens, you must warn the Clan... Fast was dealing with a Hutt by the name of Deutta, out of Karideph, Dralin remembered, repeating to himself over and over the Elders words, determined to deliver the message.

Gritting his teeth, the Tarenti set the hyperwave transceiver to the Gladius channel, trying to reach Telona in Sword's Sheath. Finally, he got a small image of his master to come in, who first looked at him in askance, then in worry.

Sword's Sheath, meeting room

Just as Telona was about to speak with Ziltopia, a beep sounded, indicating an incoming message. Looking down at her datapad, she saw it was from her apprentice, sent along the priority channel. Frowning, she patched it through. In the space next to her, her Omwati apprentice, buckled into crash webbing, appeared, the blue hologram cutting out every so often.

"Telona! I don't have much time! Doni Tzu and I went to Eliad and discovered something!" he said, appearing to struggle with the controls. "We need to stop Deutta the Hutt! He's operating out of another planet in the Minos Cluster, I'm uploading the coordinates now!" Looking at his master for a moment, he added, "Don't come for me. The Hutt is the threat. Destroy him, and they Clan will be safe from the Vong."

The Elders datapad gave a slight beep, displaying the planet Karideph. That's where the faulty droids were from! she exclaimed in her thoughts. Suddenly, Dralin's image looked grave, as if resigning himself to something. Before Telona could ask what the Vong had anything to do with it, the communication cut out.

Eyes widening, she turned to Ziltopia and merely said, "We're leaving," then quickly headed out the door, towards the hangar. Ziltopia, fearing for her Commander, went after her, asking frantically, "Wait! Where are we going!?" Not even bothering to turn back to the Equite, Telona replied, "To Eliad! Dralin is not going to die down there!"

Eliad Airspace, Tarenti Freighter

Just as Dralin was about to say something else, the ship lurched forward, the rear hull taking a massive hit. As the ship shuddered, the transceiver image of Telona winked out, leaving the Journeyman out of contact. To Dralin's horror, the freighter began to turn its nose down, aiming the ship back towards the ground. Fighting with the controls, the Omwati could no more have turned the ship back up as have pushed it up with his meager Force ability. Bracing himself, physically and with the Force, the last thing the Tarenti saw before blacking out was a city street filling his viewscreen.

Raiju

07-02-2008 15:09:39

“Not only do you destroy a brand new Avenger fighter, then come up here blaming your incompetent wingman for the ‘accident’ but also expect me to ask the Marshall on your behalf to get you a new one?” The Rear Admiral shouted at the Ryn pilot who stood at attention just inside the door to the Magnus Kraener’s bridge. As officers walked past, the tension in the room grew as everyone pretended to work while watching the conversation between Welshman and Raiju.

“Aye, and if you could have it ready for my next tour of duty that would be great.” Raiju said with a grin as he watched the Warlord’s face brighten. Welshman was on the Magnus Kraener every so often, and when he was it was a tightly run ship so it wasn’t strange that he was trying to personally humiliate the younger Dark Jedi in an attempt to show that not even a fellow Tarenti was spared lightly. Raiju on the other hand knew this and knew that after this discussion he would be onboard the first shuttle back to the Castle Tarentum to return to his house duties so the Ryn wanted to play. Frowning deeply, the Rear Admiral coldly stared at the young Obelisk.

“Who’s said that you are finished this one? You owe me a ship, and we still have a few more refugees to process. You can return to be Arch’s whipping boy after you’ve done the Consul’s bidding.” Welshman said plainly before turning back to his station. “Ground Tsar and use his ship for the moment, I still don’t understand how the pair of you ruined one of my fighters.”

Though the Ryn was frustrated to be heading back out , especially after having to be dragged back in by a recovery shuttle the last time, but accepted the Rear Admiral’s orders with little resistance. Raiju knew there were only a few dozen more left out there given the speedy work of Sato on the Dark Council platform. Snapping off a quick salute to the back of Welshman, Raiju turned to leave just as the communications officer yelled across the bridge and the Ryn stopped to listen.

“Sir! We have a priority one alert from Sword’s Sheath.” The young female shouted as the Ryn made a mental note about who he’ll be hitting on at the next officer’s party.

“Telona?” Welshman asked as he moved across the bridge towards the communications officer.

“Yes, sir. She’s board casting to us as well as both the Consul and Marshall.”

The Warlord gave a quick nod of acknowledge and asked her to play the message. It was short, and though Telona was quick to the point she still remained cool and collected. She informed them of the message she received from Dralin and her plans to rescue the young man and see to what came of Doni before she quickly ended the transmission. Welshman was quick to ask the communications officer to connect him with both the Marshall and Consul to get their input. Within moments all three parties were connected via holonet and acknowledged that they had viewed the message.

“You would think if it was so important to kill this Hutt, the foolish journeyman would have stated to her why.” Oberst growled.

“At least he did give us some coordinates and a name to the face of all our problems.” Anshar was quick to point out. “The dark side is unsettled with the knowledge we have to date, this Hutt threatens more than just our control in this system. His plot darkens in some way.”

“Perhaps he plans to sell our secret to the Vong.” Raiju stated from his place far back from Welshman. Several worrisome stares fell on the young Obelisk as people wondered what would happen to the Ryn for interrupting a private conversation between the three Tarentae. However, the Ryn felt at ease as he approached the holo-station, stopping for a moment to wink at the communications officer and make her blush before stepping onto the holopad beside Welshman’s so that the other two could see who had addressed them.

“Begging your pardon. But while most who work for us know of our dark talents and have been sworn to secrecy it has not stopped the rumours from being spread among our planets. With Jason’s breach of our force policy, there is now a creditable and real example for the refugees to swabble over and who knows how many agents of this creature have been informed of the event, let alone possibly witnessed it. It wouldn’t be the first time a Hutt sold the identity of a force-sensitive to these invaders.” Raiju explained before bowing respectfully and stepping back behind the Warlord.

“You may will be right, Journeyman.” Anshar acknowledged. “Even if you are not though, we need to crush this threat. Oberst, is your campaign ready?”

“Yes, Anshar.” Oberst’s bluish transparent figure said with a slight nod. “We can begin at any moment.”

“Very well, move the Magnus Kraener to join him Welshman and leave the remaining refugees to Sato and the fighters aboard the platform. I want this threat not just crushed, but humiliated and made any example of.” Anshar’s voice stated just before it was cut off. Turning from the station to look at the sober Raiju, Welshman held no expression of acceptance or anger for the Obelisk’s interruption. All he said before returning to his station was;

“Get your squadron ready, Lieutenant. And this time I want all the ships I give you to be returned to me in their original condition.”

Anshar

07-02-2008 18:33:54

Anshar left the office as soon as the transmission had ended. He had played the role of administrator far too long in this whole mess. Now was the time for action, and Anshar in particular was never one to ask something of those whom he led that he himself was not willing to do. Wrapped in a simple robe, Anshar boarded the special shuttle, riding it to the surface of the ocean from Castle Tarentum. Breaking through the waves, the shuttle flew to Taras.

Landing at a specially designated site, Anshar disembarked and, using both the robe and the Force, quickly drifted into the crowd, moving about unnoticed. Already, Huldrych and Dranik had made their own way, each with their own assigned targets. Jason’s show with the Force, while it certainly had its downside and was against clan rules, had brought with it a nice turn of events: the vermin had shown themselves. To be sure, they had thought they were hiding themselves well, using encoded transmissions running on extremely busy channels, but when a whole lot of vermin did the same thing at once, people tended to notice; in this case, the alert eyes and ears of Tarentum’s intelligence analysts.

All the little cell leaders, hoping to prove themselves, had placed their calls to the next boss up the chain. A few select interrogations of previous rioters had proven quite useful as well. But the transmitted calls had finally located the centers of the activity.

‘Anshar, my target is silenced,’ came Dranik’s thought. Anshar sent an acknowledgement as he turned down the alleys, gliding past the refugees. He was deep within the “Hutt” sector as it had become called, with those around him coming from Nal Hutta primarily. Anshar came to the dilapidated structure that intelligence had identified as the source of the transmission. There were no armed guards in sight, as this would have immediately tipped off authorities. However, stretching out with the Force, Anshar could sense the unseen minions who watched for those approaching. Keeping them distracted, Anshar proceeded through the front doors.

The inside looked far better than the outside, and there were definitely guards and, somewhat unfortunately, a trained boma from Dxun. The creature must have sensed Anshar’s arrival, for it quickly began growling and generally pitching a fit, struggling at the leash with which its trainer held it. And, with that, Anshar’s cover was blown, for all the guards recognized the stranger in the room. Anshar grimaced slightly: the mind tricks had never rendered him invisible, but merely made others pay him no attention.

“Stop right there!” ordered one of the guards, drawing his blaster. The other three guards in the room also drew their blasters. Not waiting for another moment, Anshar launched his attack . . .

Meanwhile, across the town, Huldrych was preparing to undertake his own mission.

Hades

07-02-2008 22:20:24

Apollo stepped forward as Raiju ran past him to the turbolift. The Admiral sat staring out the starboard viewport seemingly lost in his own mind. Apollo gently cleared his throat. An un-needed gesture since Welshman knew he was there anyways, but it would get his attention for a moment.

"Yes?" Welshman said without so much as a glimpse at the man standing to left.

"Welshman, if I may. Telona seems to want to go off on some sort of a rescue mission. A plan that involves her flying head long into a Vong invasion force. Granted she is very skilled in the Force. But even the Force can not protect her from a thousand coralskippers." Apollo said, moving up infront of Welshman.

The Admiral turned to look.

"Yes I know. What is your point?"

"As you know, when I rejoined this clan I brought with me some rather valuable ships. One being my TIE Defender, the other and Escort Shuttle. And you also know they are both coated with Sensor Abosorbing Material. If a very small rescue team were to use that shuttle, and with most of their electronic emissions cut, they could possibly make it to the surface unnoticed. Using darkness as thier cover ofcourse."

Apollo could see he had the man's full attention now. Pondering over the new facts that presented itself Welshman nodded.

"That sounds like quite the plan. Where is the shuttle now?"

"Actually, with it's secracy vital, it was placed within the Sword's Sheath." Apollo grinned.

Welshman chuckled, though mostly to himself.

"Okay. Sounds good to me. I'll pass this on to Telona over a secure frequency." Welshman said. As he turned to activate the comm, hoping to catch the angered Dark Adept before she was on her way, Apollo interjected once more.

"Welshman. I want to go with Telona on this. I can pilot the shuttle as well as anyone and you know. Also, you know as well as I that we could use a few more skilled force users on this mission."

Apollo's tone was as serious as the Admiral had ever seen it. The man standing before him was apparently quite different that the one he is used to seeing roaming the halls. He also knew that with many Tarenti spread out trying to engage the Hutt's minions around the system, few Equites were around to aid in this particular mission.

"Granted. You better hope you get there in time." Welshman said. Ignoring the salute, he began his attempt to contact Telona, hoping he was not too late.

Within five minutes Apollo was already in his fighter speeding out of the shuttle bay. Setting a course for the Sword's Sheath he boosted power to the engines. Knowing any time he can make up now would be well worth it later.

Ji

07-02-2008 22:59:20

Yridia II

The permacrete buckled beneath Huldrych's feet as he landed, having leaped across the bi-way hundreds of yards below to a vantage point overlooking his target's apartment. When he pulled this particular man out of the crowd and smashed him in the head days earlier he knew he looked familiar. The man was a finance minister working out of Taras and, much as his compatriots, was suffering no food shortage. A primary instigator of a protest he had no business attending left little doubt as to his motives. Targets often provided more information after their deaths. They could not pass along false information if they were dead.

Rising slowly from his buckled position, the servomotors in Huldrych's legs screamed. As predicted they would need some work after his mission. Even machines required maintenance. Unfortunate. The worn out drive mechanisms continued to complain as Huldrych strode over to the edge of the roof but the pain slowly subsided as he lay himself down on the cold, hard surface. Gently unslinging his rifle he slipped it beneath his arm and brought it into a firing position. The stock pulled tightly against his shoulder. The fore-grip rested pleasurably in his hand. It felt right. The cold wood soon heated beneath his fingertips.

Drawing a deep breath, Huldrych brought his cheek into gentle contact with the rest. While he would not need to look down the sights, it was a comfortable, familiar position.

The apartment across the way was the only one unlit. The curtains were drawn tight. Suspicious. Obvious. Amateur.

Slowly reaching to the top of the long eye relief, Huldrych turned the dial gently, cycling the link-up between his photoreceptors and the scope. Closing his eyes as the process began, a gentle click on the visual link-up let him know it had done it's process. When Huldrych opened his eyes, all he could see was the window. Curtains still drawn. No backlight to let anyone know the apartment was occupied.

Ironic that the man would die in darkness. Such were the consequences the situation warranted.

As the rifle swayed gently with his breathing, Huldrych's gaze followed it. Not physically, but the information being piped into his droid-brain via his photoreceptors was only what the scope saw. Perhaps it left an assassin dangerously open to surprise, but the risk made only made it more exciting. And the accursed Force would be Huldrych's reluctant ally in this situation.

Droids could not feel the force. Huldrych could. An unfortunate side-effect of his biology. Perhaps it could be remedied. Perhaps not.

Huldrych's casing began to ooze excitement as he gently reached out with the force, feeling for his target inside. Of course he could snuff the life out easily enough without his rifle, but it completely eliminated the sport.

Finding his target cowering in the back of the apartment, Huldrych gently reached through his outer defenses. Of course those not sensitive in the force were almost always easy prey. Huldrych gently sent an image of the man peering out the window, just to make sure everything was clear, across the force channel to his target. The man seemed particularly responsive to the idea. Perhaps he had been pondering it all along. Perhaps he knew what was to come.

Perhaps he wished for death. Don't we all?

Growling to himself, Huldrych chastised himself for actually using the force. Droids do NOT possess such abilities! Huldrych would reprimand himself later. Such a disgusting use of biological trickery.

Huldrych's annoyance was abruptly interrupted by a slight parting of the curtains, just at the base. Huldrych was now in his target's world. He could barely see the face through the darkness permeating the apartment. The man looked death straight in the mouth without even knowing it. He strode quickly towards his own demise. Sad? Of course not. Exhilerating.

Taking a deep breath of the pungent air wafting up with each updraft from the street below, Huldrych sighted in on his target. It tasted of oil from the roaring vehicles. Delicious.

Holding the breath, Huldrych slowly brought his finger around to the trigger, keeping his target's facial location directly beneath the crosshairs emblazoned across his vision.

Releasing the breath slowly, Huldrych gently began to apply pressure to the trigger. The slim piece of metal depressed ever so slowly. Huldrych could feel the action of the gun begin to take effect as the trigger closed in on its final state. He could feel the energy build up inside the weapon as it prepared to eject via the barrel.

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The energy burst forth from the barrel with the tenacity and ferocity that only a weapon of Chiss manufacture could muster. The entire working of the trigger, of course, took only a second, but had it taken an eternity it could not have had a more intense climax.

Realizing his mistake only too late, the minister quickly turned his face away to avoid the shot.

No matter.

Only in holofilms could beings physically avoid such a perfect shot.

The blast took the target squarely in the side of his head, forcing its heated way through the skull and into the soft matter below. Huldrych doubted he felt any pain. How droid-like. Blood and neural tissue sprayed out the exit wound. The charric blast leaving its victim's head lit the room briefly. A grisly display of gore filled the air and abruptly disappeared as the energy dissipated into the darkness.

The entire ordeal had taken less than a minute. It had seemed like a life-time. An extraordinarily satisfying lifetime and Huldrych almost wished there was a sniper preparing to send a kill-shot his way in reprisal. How could he ever top such a beautiful kill.

Frustrated, Huldrych knew he would never be able to rest until he had topped not only this kill, but had achieved the absolute perfect, most wonderfully striking assassination that has ever been seen. Next time he would need witnesses. Art was not art if it could not be appreciated after all. And was this not an art form? A form of expression? Perhaps the target had a holorecorder in his apartment Huldrych could film the ghastly scene with. It wasn't the same, but it was something he could use to explain the passion he felt later on.

No matter, it was time to search the apartment for the evidence he knew he would find.

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Telona

08-02-2008 08:23:53

Sword's Sheath

Telona looked down at her comm link as Welshman relayed his message. She gritted her teeth in quiet frustration. There was no reason to argue with her old friend but her tone was full of her annoyance. Ziltopia only chuckled as the link clicked off.

"Fantastic. It's already going to take enough time to get to Eliad, find Doni and Dralin, and get on to restoring order. We don't need a bodyguard for an extraction. Apollo should be part of whatever mission will be cooked up to take care of that Hutt. We probably would have had time to also participate."

"Better our noses not be greeted by the stinch of a Hutt." Ziltopia mused as the two of them stepped off the shuttle they had been about to prepare for launch. "Too bad we now can't use the ruse we cooked up to get into the city without suspicion."

The Quaestor only grunted in response as they both walked down the dim halls of Gladius to change out of the dancer outfits they had on under their robes and into more decent civilian clothing. The Elder had never brought up the subject of Ziltopia's attempt to meddle in her mind, much to the Equite's relief. She never would for she too had done the same when she was but an Equite.

"Alright meet back in the docking bay in fifteen minutes. Carry whatever weapons you need and conceal your lightsaber. If you want to continue using my Sapphire Blade you can but I want it back unharmed by the end of this mission."

*****

Telona's face turned to stone as she gazed upon the world of Eliad and the Vong ships hovering over it. Silence now filled the once hostile air between the woman and Apollo.

"I'm sorry. They are both probably dead by now or being carried off for sacrifice."

"Dralin is the most gifted apprentices I have ever had. He is alive. Don't count a Tarentae out either. Doni is tougher than he leads others to believe. Vong warriors will have a tough time with him."

"Yeah but it's been a while since the transmission."

"We are only tardy because you had to tag along!" Telona snapped as she turned her back on the man. "Charon, find Dralin while I search out Doni. We'll bring them home even if they are in body bags. Those things will not violate the bodies of our fellow clan mates."

Apollo kept silent. He wanted to remind his old friend that if it wasn't for his special ship they would have been spotted by the Vong and likely shot down. He thought better of it though as he carefully steered the ship closer to the planet. Her words had stung a lot. Not only when he had shown up at the Gladius base but also throughout the entire flight. He understood though that she was passionate about keeping Tarentum's members safe no matter what the cost to her own health would be.

This apprentice had better be worth it. Apollo thought as he was pointed towards a landing area nearest to what was left of the Tarenti.

He tapped some buttons, killed all shipboard lights, and silently slipped the three of them down to the surface. The landing spot was little more than a vacant lot but it was just big enough to set down. They quickly rushed down the boarding ramp and took cover. Apollo looked around while the two women fiddled with a couple of small comlinks.

"You go after Dralin." Telona told the ArchPriestess. "If you need assistance use the comlink. Don't try to engage any Vong you meet. Be quick and stealthy. One hour is all we've got, maybe less. Don't delay."

Ziltopia nodded and headed off in one direction while Apollo and Telona headed off in another direction. Dawn was but an hour away.

******

Doni Tzu's vision faded as another thudbug broke one of his ribs. They had finally overcome him, the Vong, but not before he had killed nearly half their number. He wished only for death. These Vong would take his still living body for sacrifice if he did not die now. The Force faded away from his grasp as he reached for it to end his life. He took another ragged breath before the world faded completely.

Meanwhile down the street a blazing inferno marked the place where a small transport had crashed to the ground. Its one pilot was slowly coming to. The Force had chosen to save his life and though he was surrounded by fire he had but a tiny bubble of protected space around his seat. The Vong would count him dead and avoid the area until the flames died down. Dralin was lucky but he would not realize that for many more dazed moments.

Ziltopia

08-02-2008 22:56:35

Ziltopia climbed up the side of what used to be a highrise wall and slid down a wrecked speeder in the rubble and remains of what used to be the capital city of Eliad. The presence of the Vong unnerved her and practically made her jump at her own shadow. The Force felt tainted and she was nowhere near as strong in her powers as Donitz or Telona. She felt Donitz's fear and Telona's trepidation and that made Ziltopia feel something that she had not felt since she was a Hunter preparing for her trials ... terror. The darkness was fading quickly with the approach of dawn and the shadows providing a modicum of concealment were disappearing rapidly. The quiet was disturbing as well as the lack of any kind of Vong presence in her immediate vicinity. Ziltopia, using the Force, moved at breakneck speed that still amounted to a crawl and with a purpose, she felt Dralin's mind slowly drifting into consciousness.

Wake up you fool!

... pink cammo teddy with black stilletto heels and black Ewok-lined cuffs *crack* "Please ... stop ... not ... stop ... Mistress Z ...

You wish! You barely know how to handle your own sabre competently. What do you see around you? I am coming. Dammit. Bad choice of words.

... orangish red with blues and greens ... pop ...

Are you still in your dream?

...black smoke, flames, FIRE!

Do. Not. Panic.

Too late.


Ziltopia rushed to the debris of the small freighter just as Dralin let go of the Force shield protecting him and suppressed the fire, but not quickly enough to ensure that Dralin was not somewhat burned on his back and shoulders.

"Well, now there is no doubts whatsoever. They know we are here."

"Charon, I was not in contr..."

Ziltopia, cutting Dralin off, "I know," picks him up using the Force and begins carrying him back across the debris field that took her 37 1/2 minutes to cover.

"You would think with the recent supply storage you would have lost weight! I'll tell Telona no more Bantha stew for you."


*****


Telona and Apollo were slowly making their way across the detritus of Roseamon towards Donitz location when a detatchment of 27 Vong to the West, 33 Vong to the East, and 52 Vong to the North suddenly appeared over a rise that was once the Importation and Levies Office.

Telona's eyes widened and her brow furrowed.

Apollo sighed with resignation, "We need to get back to the ship before we are discovered."

"Not without Donitz."

"That is impossible. Hopefully the Force will grant him a quick death without suffering."

The comlink on Telonta's belt beeped indicating an incoming message.

...static...garble ... Telona, are you there? Telona come in ...

The complete and utter hysteria in Ziltopia's voice made Telona gasp. She had never heard the Archpriestess in such agitation before.

... Vong ...

"Is that thudbugs in the background?"

"Shutup Apollo."

... under ... sssshhhhhhh ... seve ... Vong ... for the love of the Sith Lords ...

The silence of the comlink was deafening. Apollo sighed when he realized that 25 Vong from the Northern detachment had just flanked his and Telona's position.

"We are going to have to fight our way to your apprentice."

"I have your back as always."

Ji

09-02-2008 12:40:34

Forwarded to Dark Jedi Master Anshar Kahn Tarantae

via Taras Port Authority on the request of Protector Akth'uldryc'hasse


Mission Status: Complete
Target Situation: Eliminated


Summary is as follows

22:37 - Arrive at position overlooking target's living space.

22:38 - After a brief security sweep of the area rifle position set up.

22:45 - In position - no activity to report.

22:50 - In position - no activity to report.

22:55 - In position - no activity to report.

23:00 - In position - no activity to report.

23:02 - In position - no activ-... stand by

23:02 - Target sighted in fourth window left, sixth floor. Suspected room: sleeping quarters.

23:02:05 - Proceeding to depress trigger. I am elated.

23:02:07 - Shot erupts from barrel with a glow of beautiful mysticism.

23:02:07 - Victim realizes too late his error and turns head to avoid shot.

23:02:08 - Shot penetrates target between the superior temporal line and the temporal bone.

23:02:09 - Shot exits via zygomatic bone.

23:02:10 - Target's brain exits via anterior wound.

23:02:10 - Target's gore splashes beautifully against the wall. It resembles some of the more abstract moss paintings of Alderaan. It's beautiful, Anshar.

23:05 - Dismantle shooting position.

23:15 - Perform a routine security sweep, dispose of possible evidence including barrel emissions.

23:45 - Arrive at target's apartment door.

23:45 - Open lock via the force. Next time will request lock-pick kit from central armouries.

23:50 - Searching target's apartment - nothing to report.

23:55 - Searching target's apartment - nothing to report.

0:00 - Searching target's apartment - nothing to report.

0:03 - Target's call log includes frequent holonet usage between Yridia II and Karideph.

0:03 - Bypassing security measures.

0:05 - Minimal security. Triangulating call receiver/issuer.

0:08 - Coordinates: 34.004680,-118.410130; suspected unknown caller: Deutta the Hutt.

0:14 - Search complete; vacating premises.

Report Summary

22:37 - Arrive

23:02 - Target Eliminated

0:08 - Suspicious calls traced to 34.004680,-118.410130, Karideph

0:14 - Mission Ended

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Thank you for your patience.
This message comes with an automatic charge to your account of 5.35 credits.
Best Regards,
Taras Port Authority


Transmission Ends

Hades

09-02-2008 20:04:21

As Telona and Apollo carefully examined the scene around them, they began to calculate their options. Having not been discovered just yet was the only advantage they had at the time. Scanning the area with the heaviest concentration of Vong, Apollo seen something that might even the odds just a little. A large cargo speeder was parked near the building across the street from where they were.

Slowing his breathing and opening himself up fully to the Force, Apollo concentrated on his hatred and anger of the Vong. Channeling the Force with his rage he reached out for the speeder's controls. The engines started with a sudden burst of power coursing through the rusty innards of the craft. With careful precision, Apollo engaged the throttle and the control yoke. The Vong began to curse at the speeder as they attacked. Knowing that jeedai were possibly onboard, their savagery knew no bounds. Apollo knew it wouldn't be long before it would be discovered that no living being was inside so he knew him and Telona would have to work quickly.

Apollo's last command to the speeder had to moving at full throttle towards the East, luckily taking most of the current Vong on their northern and eastern sides with it. Telona frowned at the man beside her.

"You could have used your datapad." she growled at him shaking her head. Apollo rolled his eyes as he looked back to the West.

"Still have that detachment to worry about. Ideas?" he asked. As always, Telona would be the one get them out of a jam.

"When I make my move, attack the ones on our far left." she said as he concentrated on the Vong commander, whom was standing near a lone barren brick wall stretching twenty meters into the sky. The high-ranking Vong warrior was barking at many of his men who were nearby.

The very tattooed Vong was issuing orders to his warriors when Telona made her move. With the intensity of a tidal wave, the thick wall began to fall upon it's hapless victims. The screams were that of both horror and anger at the sudden enemy that had just presented itself.

Mostly anger.. Apollo mused as his two thermal detonators landed at the feet of the Vong to his far left. A Vong curse was all that escaped their lips before the tiny balls of destructive force exploded beneath them. The number of Vong had dropped from twenty-seven to eight. Something that Apollo knew would never have happened in hand-to-hand combat.

Apollo sprung into the air and landed a kick into the neck of a wounded Vong with the aid of the Force. A sickening crunch was followed closely with the being's death. With the accustomed snap-hiss of two lightsabers blazing in the stark blackness of night, the battle was on.

***

The two Dark Jedi knew that their chances, while better than some, were growing slim against the five remaining Vong warriors. With each new attack and counter-attack Apollo began tapping more and more into the Force to sustain himself. It had indeed been a long time since he had exerted himself so fully. It was refreshing.

The blue and purple blades of the two Tarenti worked hand in hand defensively. Each one would help block or deflect an on coming attack from the vile creatures in front of them. They did manage to quickly move through the line of warriors at the beginning of the fight. Their backs now toward Ziltopia, they began a fighting retreat towards the downed shuttle, only a few blocks away.

Working in concert with each other for the first time in years, they had reluctantly reopened a bond they had once shared long, long ago. It was this bond that enabled them to perform as they did. And in doing so, were able to cut down two more of the warriors that were so adamant on their destruction. Though, Apollo knew that he wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. With that in mind, he grabbed a handful of debris and threw it into one of the warrior's eyes, blinding him for a few seconds.

Telona used the initiative to kick a second Vong hard in the chest, sending him tumbling down a large pile of debris they had been fighting upon. With a quick downward thrust into the neck with his blade, the blinded Vong went limp and fell to the ground below. Telona, already fending off attacks from the third and last Vong warrior on his feet gestured to the one she had kicked off the pile.

"Get him first! I have this one!" she screamed as all of her hatred, anger, frustration and general disgust for everything that had been going wrong in her world began to fill her with a deep seeded rage. Leaving her to fight alone for a moment, Apollo leaped down to the second warrior just now getting up from the fall.

A quick swipe of his blade sent the amphistaff skidding several meters away. In an instant the warrior lunged at Apollo. He caught the warrior's full furry in his chest. The two enemies crashing to the ground in a ball of anger as Apollo's lightsaber flew from his hand. He knew that if he didn't keep the warrior wrapped up that he would be dead in seconds. The furry of punches and jabs aimed at his ribs were ferocious. And they hurt... a lot. His mind racing for a solution to a possibly quick end of his life, Apollo grabbed the only weapon he could reach. A medium-sized knife on his upper arm. As the Vong warrior rolled on top of him to deliver the killing blow, Apollo beat him to it. With a quick stabbing motion, the blade was inserted directly below the base of the skull. With a satisfying gurgle, life left the being now lying on top of him.

"Are you done?" Telona asked, standing over him. Her breathing was heavy as he looked down into Apollo's eyes.

Pushing the warrior off of him, he brought himself to his feet and called his lightsaber to his hands. He looked at the warrior she had been fighting. The Vong's head was making a slow roll down the pile. He looked at his friend and nodded.

The two of them quickly crossed over the debris pile and down the other side. They found cover inside a small building several blocks away. The two of them kept low as they surveyed the destruction around them. Vong patrols were frequent in the area, they would have to be very careful not to walk into another fight. Finally, Apollo looked at Telona.

"You didn't want me to come along, did you." he asked, examining the side of her face.

"I didn't want to be delayed. And I don't need a bodyguard. You always seem to want to protect me! I don't need it." she said angrily, not raising her voice above a whisper. "Jealousy does not become you Apollo, or whatever you call yourself now." she added.

Apollo scowled for a moment before looking down at a cut on his left hand, then looked up.

"Maybe if I came back, we can start over." he said. They had not touched that subject since he arrived back into Tarentum. But as most things at this point in time, that had to wait. He turned his attention to the Vong. Nothing more was said on that subject.

Telona pointed out a small drop ship nearby. "There are more of those around here. It isn't safe h... Doni!"

Out in front of the two Tarenti was an entire company of Vong warriors. And bound to a wooden pole of some sort was slung an unconscious Doni Tzu Tarante. Telona grabbed Apollo's arm as the two of them watched helplessly as their friend was taken on board the drop ship. A minute later it was heading skyward towards the waiting cruiser-analog from which it had descended.

"He still has a chance. They will interrogate him for a long time before they do anything... harsh." Apollo said to his dear friend. Glancing around he knew it was time to leave. With her still holding his arm, the two of them crept silently away from their hiding spot and moved towards the shuttle. With haste, they slid silently into the night. Finally, they came upon Ziltopia and a very wounded Dralin.

"I see you two have gotten acquainted." Ziltopia said with a smirk. It quickly faded as she seen the almost empty look of Telona's face.

They were still still in hostile territory, but it was only another block and a half to their shuttle.The Vong patrols were thinning out the further they went. It wasn't much longer before they were safely onboard the shuttle, so to speak. The engines quietly came to life before the ship quickly rose into the night's sky. Apollo kept the shuttle low on the horizon until he had reach a very barren area to the south then made the break for orbit. Once they reached the cold blackness of space, the engines were cut and all power output silenced. Apollo double-checked their momentum, making sure it would be sufficient to carry their black craft out of immediate danger before standing up. He moved to the rear cabin where the others here sitting.

Dralin was laying on his stomach as the two women of Gladius attended to his wounds. Knowing he had to tell the other two what they had seen, Apollo took a breath and slowly let it out.

"Doni has been captured. They have him on one of their ships..." he said with anger and remorse in his voice.

Ziltopia looked at him as if he had caused it himself. Dralin just shut his eyes tightly as he tried not to make any sort of emotional response. Telona just sat there, continuing to fume with rage as she applied the dressings to her apprentice's wounds.

It's going to be a long ride back. Apollo thought to himself.

Dralin

09-02-2008 22:43:05

It was your fault he was captured! You didn't try hard enough!
The Omwati's mind reeled with guilt as Apollo told them Doni Tzu Tarentae's fate. Clenching his teeth, Dralin trembled slightly as his master tended to his wounds. Letting his guilt stew inside of him, he used his emotions to ignore the pain that wracked his body, drawing his strength from the Dark Side of the Force. The Tarenti stayed silent for the remainder of the trip, each of them letting their thoughts and emotions boil within them. A short hyperspace jump later- one that seemed an eternity to the Journeyman- and the shuttle was back to Sword's Sheath. As Apollo brought the shuttle into the hanger, Telona and Ziltopia helped the Tetrarch to his feet, the Omwati drawing on his pain to help him stand as well. Waving the others off, he took a tentative step forward, then another.

I will take them all. You must get to the transport and get the message off!

Step.

They would kill you in a second and then make work of me afterwards. I assure you that I will provide them far more enjoyment than you.

Step.

Setting his face into a terrible frown, Dralin led the way off the boarding ramp, closely followed by his master and his battle team member, leading the way to the debriefing room. The hanger workers instinctively averted their gazes, not wishing to cross the Omwati.

As he walked into the nearby debriefing room, he stood at attention, devoting his focus and concentration into standing. Telona, followed by Ziltopia and Apollo, took her seat, motioning for the other two to take theirs at her side. The red-haired Elder looked her apprentice straight in the eye and said, "Report."

"After my mission aboard the freighter, which landed at Eden Greenturf on Yridia IX, Doni Tzu Tarentae appropriated me for the mission given to him by Consul Anshar Tarentae," Dralin began. "We were sent to Eliad, where we discovered that the nobles there were conspiring with Deutta the Hutt, of Karideph. That is when the Yuuzhan Vong attacked, and I fear that it was a concentrated effort to find the Yevethan Elder. If that is true, it would imply that the Hutt is working with the Vong, and that he would be able to sell us to them. An entire system of Dark Jedi would be worth much to the invaders."

When the Omwati finished, he was nearly swaying where he stood. Telona frowned, then dismissed her apprentice to his nearby quarters for some much deserved rest.

You killed an Elder!

Telona

10-02-2008 07:17:50

Telona pushed a button on a console located on the side of the conference desk after Dralin left the room.

“Deatharoc, you get all that?”

“Yeah I did. What do we do now?”

“You finish collecting all those droids you found. I’ll send Ziltopia down to help you. Our guest can then take those droids back to Yridia Two for further study. I’ll contact Anshar or Armus or Oberst with this new information.”

“Shall I put the rest of the House on alert?”

“Yes, good idea. Telona out.”

The Quaestor turned to Ziltopia and gave her a nod. She quickly got to her feet and headed out of the conference room. That left Apollo who shifted nervously.

“Go get something to eat.” Telona sighed.

“What?”

“I said, go get something to eat. Tell them exactly this; there is one blue steak left, fix it properly and with the traditional sides. The kitchen will know what to do. You’ll have an hour.”

“Won’t you join me?” Apollo asked lightheartedly

“No I have too much to do right now.” Seeing and feeling his disappointment Telona added. “Maybe after all this mess settles down we can sit down to dinner someplace nice and do a bit of talking.”

The man got up with a grin on his face and headed for the mess hall. His rumbling stomach and the promise of another chance pushing aside his objections to her not joining him now. This left the exhausted woman to deal with getting the word out on what happened. Hopefully the information would be able to stop the threatening Vong incursion in time.


******

Several hours later

Dralin awoke in his darkened room after feeling a gentle nudge touch his mind. A knock sounded at his door moments later. He contemplated not answering until the door opened on its own. He clicked a small table lamp on as his master swept into the room silently carrying a tray of food and drink. She placed the tray on the table and pulled up a chair.

“Eat, you need your strength up and your body healed.” She noticed his alarmed look. “Don’t worry; it’s all from my own rations. Eat all that you can and listen to me.”

Dralin opened his mouth but thought differently of saying anything so he settled on just pulling his sore body up and picking out something from the tray. He felt guilty eating while Doni was most certainly being tortured. A soft smile came to Telona’s lips as sadness seeped into her eyes.

“Don’t feel guilty about what happened. Doni did what he did in order to save the Clan. You have survived and now we have some very important information we did not have before. It is not your fault so stop beating yourself up over it.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “We all know the risks when dealing with the Vong and have suffered terrible losses at their hand. Yet every single Elder here would give their life gladly to ensure the survival of this Clan. Sounds unbecoming of a Dark Jedi but there is a bond between us and this Clan that goes beyond basic emotions. You too will share this bond and then you’ll know of what I speak.”

Dralin swallowed hard as he looked down. “I should have done more. He’d still be here if I had just done more.”

“Doni is not dead yet. He is a Tarentae and the entire Clan will feel it when he does die. That has not happened yet so there is still hope.” Telona leaned forward and placed a hand softly on his feathered shoulder. “I know you are not use to seeing a comrade fall in battle. It is always hard hear of it too. So long as Doni lives though you have a chance to perform yet again beyond your abilities and prove to this Clan that you will become a great leader. I chose you as my apprentice for a reason.”

A great warmth spread over Dralin’s body. He felt sleepy and yet energized. The woman’s next words to him were so soft he almost forgot she was the same Dark Jedi that barked instructions and orders at him.

“Now let’s properly heal those wounds.”

Anshar

10-02-2008 22:46:47

Anshar’s attack was something less dramatic than one might have anticipated. Gripping all four blasters with the Force, he turned the guards upon each other, using their own weapons against them. The boma never got a chance to attack, either, as Anshar held it back with the Force until he could turn the blasters on it.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded a voice from upstairs. “We got an intruder?” Anshar heard footsteps and waited patiently for a few brief moments before a scruffy looking human appeared at the landing. He never got a chance to do anything else as the invisible hands of the Force choked the life out of him. Sensing no more life forms in the building, Anshar exited, once again using the Force to mask his presence. A short time later, he was at a specially designated hanger, boarding a shuttle. The shuttle took off, heading towards the gathered Tarentum fleet.

“Sato, what is the status of the refugees?” asked Anshar over the secure frequency.

“Everyone has been processed,” came the reply. “We also rounded up the troublemakers.”

“Good,” said Anshar. He changed the frequency slightly, connecting him with Oberst.

“Marshall, what is our current status?”

“The Magnus Kaerner is ready and waiting for the Phlegethon ,” came the reply. “The enemy fleet has been located, and a simple, but brutal, strike shall be all we need to eliminate them. Admiral Welshman will have command of the operation.”

“Dranik and I will be docking with the Phlegethon momentarily. We will proceed from there to the rendezvous point.” With that, the comm cut off.

* * *

Oberst was sitting calmly aboard the Corsair when the report suddenly flashed up: Yuuzhan Vong forces detected in the Minos Cluster. “What are the Vong doing all the way out here,” he muttered to himself, pulling up the strategic display. The display quickly showed the Yuuzhan Vong, or at least perceived Vong, at Eliad, where Doni and Dralin had gone. Now it was a matter of extraction as well as driving off, or better yet, destroying, the Vong.

Oberst’s smiled malevolently to himself as an idea crept into his head. Pulling up the battle plan, he began to alter it . Now, instead of simply creating the illusion that the Hutt forces had an opportunity to escape their destruction, he would drive them straight into the Yuuzhan Vong’s open, but deadly, arms.

Oberst watched as the Magnus Kaerner slip into hyperspace. There would still be time to brief him on the new details of the operation.

[OOC note: needed to make a few edits; to clarify, the Magnus Kaerner and Phlegethon are going after the Hutt force]

Raiju

12-02-2008 18:39:20

The TIE Avenger’s cockpit was much tighter this time as Raiju climbed into it, at least it felt that way. Pulling the hatch above him closed and sealing it, Raiju began his pre-flight checks. The ship was in good space despite the bump Tsar used this ship to give Raiju, whatever scratches that been on the wing foils have been rubbed down, sanded, and painted over and the foil itself had been realigned. Raiju at first felt back for making Tsar remain behind, taking care of the squadron’s paper work, but he had easily shook that feeling from his head stating that sometimes a cruel or unfair action put things into perspective.

When the craft’s onboard computer had finished its check it gave a small beep of acknowledgement for the Ryn. Tightening his seat belt, Raiju ordered status reports from all his squad mates over the comm. The reports were good, everyone’s ships had been properly attended to since their last flight and everyone was ready for launch. All Raiju was waiting on was for the hanger doors to be opened.

The Obelisk was a little uneasy as he sat there waiting, Oberst was a military genius and Raiju was sure his plan was sound but he didn’t like the fact it was only the Magnus Kraener and the Phlegethon were dealing with this force; even if their combined might was enough. Raiju was an obelisk at heart, war wasn’t about flashy displays or a game to be toyed with it was about removing a threat from existence as quickly as possible. If Raiju was Marshall it would have only left the minimum back at the platform and quickly struck these fools down - no mercy and the only show to display was the might of Tarentum and the example these forces would make. But, perhaps that’s why Raiju was here as a pilot and Oberst was Marshall, all he could do was wait and think about the day he would hopefully replace the one-eyed freak.

“First Interception Squadron, stand by.” The sweet voice of the Magnus Kraener’s head communication officer said. “We’re coming out of hyperspace now.”

Despite the fact no one could see him, Raiju nodded his head, now heavy with the weight of his pilot’s helmet. Sealing his suit, after a moment he relayed the command to his squadron. A few moments later the large steel doors of the hanger began to roll open, framing Raiju’s view of the stars and suns that flickered far away. Which the hanger doors were open, the voice of Welshman rang through Raiju’s ears.

“Raiju, your squadron is clear to launch, afterwards please move to section alpha-two and provide a screening escort for the Magnus.”

Raiju was quick to acknowledge his orders before he slapped the button to disengage his craft from the TIE rakes in the Magnus Kraener’s hangers and lead his squadron slowly out of the hanger bay. Everyone but four launched without a delay, and Raiju made a mental note to have him replaced after this tour of duty. In moments the squadron had assembled in a screen formation in front of the Magnus Kraener, and Raiju looked to his radar for any insight of the enemy forces. There were no differences in the fleet from what had attacked the dark council platform, but the Ryn was surprised to see that they were slow to respond to the Tarenti threat as if unsure whether they were going to flee or run. Finally though, Raiju felt a smile creep across his face as they moved into a committed position to engage the Magnus Kraener.

“This is lead,” Raiju said as he activated his communications. “continue to provide a tight screen for the Magnus until my mark, then break into pairs and engage the enemy. Remember to call for help if you get into trouble, and stay frosty.”

Anshar

14-02-2008 20:46:44

Anshar remained off the bridge of the Phlegethon, leaving the captaining of the vessel to the ship’s captain, Dranik. Welshman remained in command of the overall operation, executing Oberst’s new plan with the perfection that Anshar had come to expect out of his once Proconsul. Instead of doing anything else, Anshar closed his eyes and drew upon the Force, pulling himself into a battle meditation.

Slowly, each pilot and gunner, and then everyone else in the clan’s strike force grew more reliant and confident upon one another, and upon themselves. Accuracy increased and no movement or thought was wasted. Simultaneously, the enemy fleet began to suffer the opposite effect. Already a hodgepodge of beings that didn’t fully trust each other, Anshar could sense among them something that Tarentum’s forces did not lack: leadership. One of the Mobquet transports belched smoke, flame, and shrapnel from the first box as the Phlegethon tore into it.

Tarentum’s fighters danced circles around the aging fighters of the Hutt force: better pilots, with better ships, bolstered by the Force, it came as no surprise to Anshar that his clan was winning. Even without the battle meditation, Tarentum would have won, but Oberst’s plan had called for this addition. As he stretched out more with the Force, Anshar could pick up the thoughts of the enemy captains.

“We must flee,” said one. “To Eliad, where the master’s allies shall give us safety.”
“Then the master will be unprotected!” spat another. Such loyalty to one who had sent them on a suicide mission to begin with, and who could not guide them to anything better.
“He shall be safe,” said a third captain. “He escaped the Empire, the New Republic, and the Yuuzhan Vong, too. Our deaths here will do him no good.”

The thoughts faded out of Anshar’s mind as he concentrated more on the battle at hand. He felt the crushing of life as a large section of the aged Kruk battlewagon exploded, leaving the vessel essentially dead in space. That seemed to signify the end, and Hutt fleet began to pull out in the unprofessional manner that only such rabble could do. Each ship was on its own, though they were all heading to the same spot.

Welshman played his hand well, giving enough chase to convince the enemy they were still sought after, but that was all. As the battlewagon disintegrated under the fire of the two Tarentum ships, Welshman felt the release of the battle meditation. He had once heard a rumor that the ancient Republic and Sith Empire soldiers could become addicted to the technique; he did not doubt that it was possible.

“Comm, signal the Marshall that the mission is complete,” ordered Welshman. “Helm, lay in a course for home.” He did not wait to hear the replies as he gazed out at where the Hutt fleet had departed. He wished they could chase after it, and destroy it, and then to slay the Vong that were apparently there. But, Oberst had been very clear that Welshman was not to tell anyone what awaited the Hutt fleet.

Secrecy was the key to the clan’s survival, and the appearance of a large group of Jedi would bring the Vong into the Minos Cluster in far greater numbers. No warship from Tarentum would go to them, and those members that they had encountered would have to be passed off as a small cluster of light Jedi in hiding. Vengeance upon the Yuuzhan Vong, for taking the lives of clan Tarentum, would have to wait. For now, the clan could turn its attention to destroying Deutta the Hutt and his organization.

Szordryn

17-02-2008 12:44:46

It felt good to be in the cockpit again. On board the Magnus Kaerner he had completed the pre-flight checks on the Sentinel and now moved his attention to the weapon systems. "The diagnostics says power is only running at 80%, see if you can find out why." He instructed the R2 unit which beeped its acknowledgement and moved to the maintenance panel. After some further beeps and chirps from the droid he came over to have a look. "What have you found? Oh I see, OK then just replace them and reset the jumpers to default." It looked like their last action had overloaded a couple of circuits. He examined the damaged circuits thoughtfully and looked at the droid, "Check to make sure the shield power distribution links are OK, sometimes that can cause this to happen." The R2 unit beeped his acknowledgement and moved to check that out too.

He heard footsteps approaching from the hangar and recognised the flight officer, as he stepped inside the shuttle. "Oh, I didn't know you were here sir" the young officer addressed him with surprise, while neatly standing to attention. Szordryn was informal in his reply "At ease, I was just conducting some pre-flights, I wasn't too happy with the way it behaved last time we flew and with the Vong around it pays to have the firepower. All yours now. I will join you later." With that he left the shuttle and went towards the ready room.

He was impressed with how the crew performed. He knew his appearance was a little unusual, his black mandalorian-style armour marking him out as non-crew, so he had to display his ID pass visibly or be stopped regularly and challenged. Security was top-notch. Very good. It made a change from where he had just been, planetside in the refugee camps tracking down terrorists and criminals.

He had enjoyed the challenge, infiltrating the camps, finding information on why and how the sabotage was being carried out. Not to mention the interrogation afterwards. He smiled to himself at the thought, how he had manipulated and coerced the details out of them. Now it seemed that with the Hutt's fleet in disarray they were heading to deal with the source of the clan's problems. Hence his checks on the Sentinel, they would need its firepower if there was to be an insertion on the ground. Welshman was keeping it very close to his chest as to what they would do and how the attack would proceed, so Szordryn prepared himself for whatever might come his way.

Ronovi

18-02-2008 01:43:56

Yridia IX

The smell of shattered bone and gray matter pervaded Ronovi’s nostrils as a wild-eyed refugee pitched face-forward in an uneven sprawl at her feet. As he lay there, smoke issuing from the remnants of his skull, the young Obelisk wrinkled her nose and nudged his head aside with her foot before looking ahead at the chaos ahead of her, corpses still wet with fresh blood being swept into heaps on the streets. The screams rattled her thoughts, made her jaw stiffen, as she tucked her E-11s back into her robes.

She had had no choice. The man had come at her with a blaster of his own, a pistol-type, screaming obscenities, cries of anarchy and of vengeance. Had she not acted fast, she would be the one on the ground, with her brains instead of his spilling from the side of her head. She had had no choice to shoot him, nor to even confront these refugees.

As ordered by Anshar, due to the manpower shortage on Yridia IX, he had requested that low-ranking novices participate in the appeasement of the refugees so superiors could direct their attention to the Hutt’s fleet. Ronovi had felt the chill go through her spine as she heard the order for her and her colleagues to be deployed from Sword’s Sheath. She had equipped herself as readily as she could, as she did not have as beneficial of resources as her superiors. Still, it was enough.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her fellow lower ranks attempt to assemble the wailing masses of refugees in the city and half-expected to see familiar faces. This was her home world, her home city, and she was watching it fall to pieces before her eyes.

“Get down, Tavisaen!” she heard a novice close to her shriek.

A blast from a rifle blazed just past Ronovi’s right shoulder as she threw herself out of the way of crumbling stone and glass from a nearby building. One shard caught her in the chin, and she could feel the blood from the gash move in a thin runlet down her neck as she pressed herself against a wall across from the wreckage, chest rising and falling, sweat forming on her dark brow; then another blast, this time rocking the ground beneath her. She looked up to see another furious refugee approaching her, stumbling a bit, a rifle in his hand.

“Ungrateful bastard,” she muttered, and in a swift movement she drew out one of her E-11s again and fired two shots. The refugee was struck in both knees, and he stumbled to the ground with a low moan coming from his lips. Then Ronovi collapsed against the wall again, breathing harshly, before the sound of her commlink startled her, and she clicked it feverishly.

“What?! Damn it! What?!”

“Relax, Tavisaen, relax!” It was the voice of another apprentice, deeper, throatier, but nevertheless just as panicked as hers. It didn’t help her spirits.

“Relax, relax, I can’t relax! Some goddamn first mission.”

“Tavisaen, Another ship is going to dock soon, east of the borough you’re in. With any luck, we’ll have more firepower, but not much.”

“Great. That really gets me feeling a lot better about the here and now. The Hell do we do while we wait?”

“I’m getting to that. We need more transportation of refugees east, outside the main walls of the city. Answer by code 3165 when you get there.”

Ronovi ducked as a barrage of granite tumbled from above. Coughing loudly, she said, “Affirmative,” before clicking her comm.

Silence came from the other end. Ronovi swore under her breath. Rising to her feet, she let her hands fall back upon her E-11s. She could feel a peace settle over her, as if the power of the force was pulsing in her fingers. Then, as she observed the muddled groupings of refugees as violence broke out among various wranglers and rogues, she raced down the street toward her destination.

Raiju

18-02-2008 15:47:21

The sound of the sharp clicks of leather on metal lashed out and echoed down the empty corridor, uninterrupted but also increasing in frequency as the young Ryn quickly made his way to the bridge of the Magnus Kraener; this time dressed in his usual attire of combatant dress with a large black cloak covering his body. Raiju felt good to be out of his flight suit, and even had the time to be preparing washed and refreshed before making his last appearance before the Rear Admiral for this tour of duty.

Lots of work awaited Raiju back in House Tridens, and he could no longer afford to slack on his Rollmaster duties if he wished to become Quaestor someday, and Welshman knew this so there would be no argument this time. Pausing briefly for the doors to slide open to the bridge so he could enter, Raiju continued his pace straight towards the Rear Admiral and smartly snapped a salute to the back of the Corsair and waited to be acknowledged.

“Back again, I see.” Welshman said lightly with a slight smile upon his face.

“Aye, and I even manage to bring back the ship you lent me.”

“I’d seen that, maybe there’s hope for you yet Raiju. But you’re still going to have to do something about the smell about yourself if you want to be taken seriously around here.” Welshman cracked before returning his attention to the communication board.

“Really? Proper hygiene hasn’t seemed to be a bother for you, Sir.” Raiju’s snapped back quickly with a grin. Welshman was quick to turn and glare at the Ryn, but failed to address the comment.

“What can I do for you, Raiju?”

“I’m here to request permission to officially end my tour of duty and leave the Magnus Kraener for Castle Tarentum, Sir.”

“Very well, thanks for your service Raiju. Have a safe flight back to the Castle, and give Archean my thanks.” Welshman said with a nod towards the door Raiju had entered from. Snapping another salute off to the Rear Admiral, Raiju was quick to turn and make his escape.

***

“Sir, we are about to revert to subspace speed and arrive at the Yridia system.” One of his officers stated, informing Welshman of the ship’s progression. The Rear Admiral merely nodded to the information and moved back to the glass panel to the side of the bridge and watched as the bluish background transformed back into a tar black with millions of pinprick spots of white light shining through. It had been a long day, and Welshman felt the need to put something in his stomach. Informing the ship’s second in command of this, Welshman started to make his way to the dining hall. However, before the man could make his way through the rear exit, a shout came from the communications officer.

“Sir, Consul Anshar is requesting you on the holonet.” The pretty officer stated. Welshman was quick to thank her, and moved to accept the Consul’s call.

“Dark Greetings, Anshar.” Welshman said as the bluish figure of Anshar appeared before him, along side several other Tarentae members.

“Greetings to you all.” Anshar started, “And congratulations Oberst and Welshman on an excellent campaign. However, we are not done yet. It’s time to strike at the beast that started this. By now, the Vong should have erased the merc fleet that had been defending the Hutt. With them out of the way, I will be leading a strike team onto the planet Karideph and eliminating this threat personally. Unfortunately, I need you Welshman to remain at your post aboard the Magnus Kraener and take up position to ward off any possible counterattack we’ve missed and retake the task of preventing anymore refugees into the system.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Welshman continued to listen to the Consul’s plan.

“I will take Dranik with me, and any other possible volunteers that can make their way to the Phlegethon within an hour’s time. At that point, we will take a small vessel into the system and onto the planet of the Hutt’s operations and eliminate him once and for all.” Anshar said, and received several visual nods from the other Tarentae and a couple words of agreement to the plan. Welshman took a moment to consider the plan, and a dark thought crossed his mind as he remembered the young Obelisk about to leave the ship.

“Anshar, your plan seems to be sound and may I suggest you take Raiju with you on the mission. He’s still a bit fresh but well trained by each of the Corsairs, and his criminal background in service to Rekio could help you get into the Hutt’s lair more easily. Likewise, it would be a good chance to prove himself for the clan.”

“Yes, I agree. Send the young Rollmaster over to the Phlegethon as soon as possible.”

***

It did not take long for the Ryn to make his way to the hanger. He had his things already assembled and sent down to the hanger. Now all that remained was to find a proper vessel to ferry him back to the Castle. Quickly checking in with the hanger command staff, it seemed that there was one such vessel available that was not only recently repaired and fuelled but an unofficial ship of the Magnus Kraener and would not be a burden to it if it were to be unavailable to them for a few days. Carrying his bag with him across the hanger, he stepped into the shuttle that Szordryn had been working on.

It took several moments for the Sith to realized that the Rollmaster had sat down behind him in the cockpit and was waiting for his attention. When he finally had, Szordryn was quick to ask what he could do for the Ryn.

“Well, I’m glad you have asked. I need to make my way back to Castle Tarentum without being a burden on the support vessels for the Magnus. I was wondering if you could possibly take me, I’ve already made the proper flight reports.” Raiju state, clearing implying an order here rather than a request. The young Sith gave a quick nod, eager to work for a member of his summit and buckled himself in. Turning to make himself at home in the back of the shuttle, Raiju heard the Sith call after him just as he left the cockpit. Returning, he say a worried face on the Sith as he if feared being punished.

“Um, they say Welshman has denied our flight plans and refuse to allow us to launch.” The Sith Guardian said, as Raiju felt a burning redness rise to his cheeks. Sitting in the co-pilot chair, Raiju grabbed the comlink.

“This is Raiju, what’s the meaning of this?” The Ryn demanded into the channel, hoping it was nothing more than a prank.

“Sir, Welshman has sent orders for you to make your way over to the Phlegethon to meet with Anshar.” A young voice answered, relaying a tone familiar to the one Szordryn had give him.

“And meet with him for what? I’m to make my way back to Castle Tarentum.”

“Sir, he says you are to join the Consul for a volunteer mission and that you are to make the Corsairs proud.”

Volunteer mission, my ass. Raiju thought. Sighing in disbelief at the Corsair’s trick, he stood from the chair and moved towards the back to begin planning on how to get back at the Warlord. Before he left, he turned back to the Sith.

“Acknowledge that the change in flight plan, Szordryn. And don’t take long to get over there. We’re both in service to the Consul’s mission now, and I don’t want to be held back.”

Ronovi

18-02-2008 23:46:10

Returning to the main part of the city had been difficult for Ronovi, as her small transport had nearly succumbed to the constant uproars and firepower of refugees and other Tarentae. As she was dropped off in the midst of the chaos once again, the Epicanthix felt the familiar unease wash over her.

Ronovi heard her commlink sound off again and, bracing herself for any other strikes, clicked it to hear a different voice coming from the device.

“Tavisaen? Is this Tavisaen?”

Ronovi furrowed her brow. “Yes, sir. This is Tavisaen.”

“The Phlegethon is approaching Yridia IX. You are situated in Eden City, correct?”

“Correct, sir.”

“Good. I want you to approach the Phlegethon as it lands near Yridia IX. We’ve got different work for you to do, if you’re interested.”

Ronovi’s eyes widened. “Me, sir?” She asked.

“Yes, you, Tavisaen. We find you a suitable candidate for a mission to Karideph. We request your presence on the ship in approximately an hour. A transport should be waiting for you. Do you accept?”

Ronovi breathed in deeply; anything seemed better than dealing with this. She said, “Affirmative. Approaching landing dock in a half hour,” before clicking off her comm.

Her? A "suitable candidate"? She could feel pride swelling in her chest, but she had to force it down. Relax, Ronovi. Breathe. She couldn't let it go to her head. Although she wouldn't be dealing with refugees anymore, obviously this would try her strength and her impression upon the brotherhood.

There was no time to lose. Holstering her E-11s, Ronovi found herself weaving through the streets, making her way between gaggles of fellow Dark Jedi desperately calling for order. She could feel her heart slam against her ribs as she quickened her pace. Finally, perhaps she could make herself more useful to her clan.

Ronovi arrived at the starport and wandered aimlessly for a while, observing the various pilots and scattered Dark Jedi preparing to take off. She looked around nervously, eyes flickering from side to side.

Damn it, the shuttle. Where is the shuttle?

At that moment, she heard the cry of a fellow novice calling out her name and saw him beckon her over to a small transport in the distance. The entrance platform was already open, and Ronovi made her way toward the ship, noticing that only a few others were approaching as well. Other selected volunteers. Ronovi took a deep breath and walked into the transport. It lifted off almost immediately after she entered, and she sat down among the very few novices that she recognized from the ground. All of them looked rather horrible, their faces bloodied, their eyelids swollen, trying to repair blasters that would never work again. Ronovi drew one of her E-11s out of her robes, checked its condition, and smiled when she found that it was still intact and functional.

“Let me guess. You received the comm?” asked one badly bruised apprentice.

Ronovi looked at him. “Yeah. Did you?”

“Yeah. I’m not looking forward to it. You realize what’s going to happen to us, right?”

“What, are you worried that you’ll be the first to die?” Ronovi asked coolly.

“I’m not worried. Worrying is for weaklings. I’m concerned, is all.”

“Concerned? I don’t bother with either sort of feeling.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Sound easy? To be a strong warrior, it must be easy. But all she could do was chuckle at the apprentice’s half-hearted response. The transport was heading toward a station in orbit a decent distance away from Yridia IX. As Ronovi looked at their destination, she saw the Phlegethon docked there, its enormous girth impressing her as the transport landed. As Ronovi and the others exited the ship, many of them complaining and grunting, she watched various other transports land as well, and she noticed other Dark Jedi scamper toward the massive ship. She heard raised voices as the troops climbed aboard, a worker on the ship directing them through the entrance.

“C’mon, c’mon, hurry on through! We’re expected to leave in five minutes, on the dot! Five minutes!”


As Ronovi made her way to the motley group of fighters, she noticed someone else standing at the entrance to the Phlegethon. Immediately she recognized him as Anshar, and as she came closer, he saw her, smiled, and beckoned her to come more quickly, as it looked like the ship was ready to take off. Ronovi remembered her agility as an Epicanthix and hurried up the platform into the ship.

The interior of the Phlegethon intimidated Ronovi in several ways. She had never been in so impressive of a ship before, let alone in anything besides a regular transport, and she felt quite humbled by the various other Dark Jedi of higher rank operating the controls and preparing for battle. The sounds of commlinks clicking and transmitters beeping loudly rattled her ears and she brushed her way past a higher-ranked Sith who grunted loudly at her while she passed. Then, as she walked by a control panel with various operators preparing for take-off, she heard two voices beside her and stopped.

“Is that Tavisaen?”

“Yeah, that’s her. Relatively new, I heard. Has potential, they say.”

“She seems the Obelisk type. Nonetheless, has she done this before?”

“Never. But the higher-ups see something in her, obviously. Something powerful.”

Ronovi did not stay to hear more or to see who the speakers were. She could see various strike team members who had just entered the ship assemble in a specific area of the ship down a vast, nearly empty corridor, arranging themselves in front of Anshar, who stood at the end of it. Ronovi walked toward them, her heavy boots thudding against the smooth surface of the ship's floor as she perused its vaulted walls and set controls. As she approached, she looked at her fellow Dark Jedi, all standing rigid, heads erect, jaws set, before looking down at her tattered robes and then touching her bruised and battered face and her beaten up blasters. She felt very inadequate.

“I welcome all of you from Yridia IX onto the Phlegethon,” Anshar was saying, “and I commend you for volunteering. Our mission is simple. As a strike team, we will bring our forces to the planet Karideph to eliminate the threat of the Hutt. Some of you are more experienced than others, and many of you will have to prove yourselves on this team. Of course, all depends if you are willing to submit to the orders and to the cause.”

As he spoke those final lines, Ronovi almost believed that Anshar was speaking to her. As a rather new member of the brotherhood, she knew that she would have to take vast steps to demonstrate to her superiors that she had potential as an Obelisk. Her thoughts, however, were broken by Anshar’s next words.

“I would like all of you to prepare for take-off and for battle. Should any of you have questions, there are various people here who may assist. However, we can only be a fifteen-member strike team. That means that even after you prepare, many of you may be eliminated from the team and sent back to your houses to rest and regain your health. That is all.”

Then he was gone, off to take care of more important business upon the ship as it took off. As Ronovi felt herself lifted up from the ground away from Yridia IX, she felt nothing but anxiety and adrenaline for the next part of her mission. Fighting the Hutt. Who would've thought? Now she realized that she could not blame anyone for worrying. But she fought the feeling nonetheless. She was a Dark Jedi now, and she had to act like one. Ronovi looked around her, breathed deeply, and let herself prepare.

Hades

19-02-2008 01:03:44

Sitting alone in the Officer's Mess onboard the Phlegethon , Apollo sat preparing for battle. Arrayed infront of him were various weapons he owned. His lightsaber was directly infront of him as he was finishing with a good cleaning of the age-old weapon. He knew he would put his life, and those of his friends and clansmen on the line with his blade. So making sure it was in fine working order was paramount. Sitting off to his right were two small hold-out blasters with two spare power packs a peice. Very light, thease were the last-ditch blasters of his arsenal. They were basicly made to keep people's head down until back-up arrived.

To his left was his father's DL-44. Second only to his saber, this was his most prized possession. Given to him upon graduation from the Imperial Academy, this blaster had served his father for many years beforehand. It's power was legendary among the stars and just the sight of one in your had made your foe take you a bit more seriously. A dangerous weapon in anyone's hands.

Sitting next to that was a standared issue Blaster Carbine. He carried one of thease for the faster fire rate and uniformity of the weapon. No use carrying a special armament if you couldn't find ammo for it in a jam. Power packs for thease were common throughout the known galaxy.

Last but not least was what Apollo called his "Oh [Expletive Deleted]" weapons. Two stun grenades, two thermal detonators and a band of various sized knives he kept around his waist in a specialized belt. He called them this because if he had to resort to the knives or grenades, it was a bad situation indeed.

Apollo streached as he finished putting on the final adjustments to his DL-44. He knew the battle drawning closer by the minute. As it did so, the faces and screams of those lives he had taken in so many different engagments all flooded to his mind. This had become the standard case for him since the Vong attack. He hadn't been at that dreadful ambush when it occured, but the horror on the faces of his friends had put him on edge. A painful reminder of how life can be winked away quicker than ever. How this had brought about the images flowing past his mind's eye he will never know. He'd just wish they'd stop. It was getting harder and harder to push past them before he went into combat. But it was something he would have to deal with eventually. Maybe Telona could help him with that, but who knows.

As the various members of Tarentum began to slowly gather in the mess hall, as all species tend to gather around food, Apollo gathered his belongings and strapped them to his person. With a smile to his friends he made a quick exit to find the nearest quiet room with a transpristeel viewport. He needed time to think.

Taking a deep breath, the Archpriest closed his eyes as he sat on the cold floor. As he regulated his breathing, he opened up to the Force. He needed some clarification on things in his life, maybe this long time friend could provide an answer.

Szordryn

19-02-2008 17:23:57

On board the Phlegethon everything was in a state of organised readiness. THe last half hour though, was definitely chaotic. There had been a large number of shuttles arriving, of various sizes, carrying assorted members of the Clan, in various conditions. Clearly Szordryn was not alone in carrying out ground operations he mused, considering the battered appearance of many of the new arrivals from Yridia IX. He had a much easier time of it than these guys.

"What do you think Raiju? Will they be any good?" He phrased the question more to test the reaction of the Tridens Rollmaster than for any real opinion.

Putting his annoyance to one side Raiju looked over the group approaching the Sentinel. He had not said much since they arrived and Szordryn knew why. He was wanting to return to the Castle, and though he was a more than competent combatant this was not his preferred battleground.

"I think they are more than a match for anything the Hutts can throw at them. I don't see the point in so many of the Clan taking part." He turned back to the interior of the shuttle and made for the cockpit. "Szordryn, check them all in and make sure they know the drill. Most of them won't have experienced a combat drop before. Clue them in."

"Aye aye sir." Szordryn saluted as Raiju moved past him and added "Don't worry Raiju, it is a good sign. If they keep using you it means they want to test your commitment to the Clan. It can only mean a big move for you, and soon. Oh, and permission to be co-pilot, so I can take part in the drop itself. Lt Fox is competent to take the reins after we fly in and clear the ground."

"Granted, and thanks." Raiju smiled briefly and went through to the cockpit. He wanted to check flight plans and speak to the bridge. As he sat in the pilot's leather chair he heard the familiar beep and hiss of static. He recognised the call-sign. Anshar was on the comm, Raiju flicked the controls and answered smartly "Sir, we..."

Anshar cut him off "Get the recruits on board first, they have been through hell and need to recover. Get your Guardian to check them all out, any not fit to fight remove from the flight deck. We are counting on you."

"Understood sir." The comm went dead and Raiju turned to inform Szordryn, who was standing looking at him. "Did you hear that?"

"On my way Sir" Szordryn went to the loading ramp and assembled the gathered group of Dark Jedi. There was quite a group there, in various conditions. Some looked the worse for wear, a testment to their dedication to the Clan and all looking expectantly at him. He reached out with the force and felt their strengths individually. One gave him cause for concern. He commanded them on board, "Take up positions in the main section, all of you journeymen to the rear of the compartment, and you" he lowered his voice to a young recruit who was passing him, holding a bloody gauntlet to his side, "I want you to sit over there." He indicated a position by the lockers.

Once aboard he quickly took control, "Now pay attention. This is a fully equipped commando drop ship, we have arms and equipment to fight a small war if we wished to and I have seen enough of those in my time to guide you through. Check your equipment. You can load up on ammo from the lockers to your right and...WAIT FOR IT!" Three eager acolytes had jumped up and quickly sat down as he barked at them. "And you can replace any broken equipment from the lockers on your left. I want you to check your equipment NOW. Then starting with the row at the back, form an orderly queue, proceed around and then return to your seats, then next row and so on. Understood?" Nods of understanding from all of them. "He singled out a confident newcomer. "You, what is your name?"

The newcomer he addressed looked up at him with confidence. "Tavisaen sir."

"You seem to have a level head, I want you to supervise the lockers, make sure everyone has their choice of weapons and spare clips. It is standard issue, nothing surprising in here, but leave that locker alone. That has the heavy weapons and my gear." He indicated a locker near the front.

"Yes sir." She replied with enthusiasm. First being selected for this mission and now supervising her fellows. She went to the task with determination, ensuring everyone was equipped correctly and nobody being overloaded. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him tending to the wounds of the jedi he had singled out. When he was finished, he turned to address them all again.

"Now, we will be joined by some of the more experienced members of the Clan soon enough. I imagine they will wait till we have entered hyperspace so take the time to close your eyes and rest now. Rest and relax, be at peace and calm...close your eyes when you are ready and prepare yourselves..."

In a few moments the group was quiet and calm, allowing themselves to rest, as Szordryn lulled them into a light trance to recuperate their powers and heal their bodies. As they sat there he calmly spoke to them and advised them of drop ship battle techniques and tactics, knowing that in their meditation trance they would hear and absorb everything. He knew they would need all their strength for what was to come.

Ji

19-02-2008 20:08:44

Huldrych found himself decidedly unnerved, surrounded by so many fleshies. He could smell them through the crisp, recycled air of the military shuttle's passenger cabin. It wasn't necessarily a bad smell, but pungent. He was glad droids did not sweat. Only the pleasing odors of lubricant and current running through hardware. Several times one or another of the beings surrounding him attempted to begin interfacing with him, however, Huldrych was not a model designed to fulfill sentient pleasures (quite the opposite, in fact), and their attempts were met with the blank stare of his frightening mechanical eyes.

Their repugnance upon seeing the scarified tissue surrounding his eyes and the burn marks covering his face pleased him to no end. Even fleshy matter could be made beautiful, he supposed. It just took some (rather painful) work involving shattered viewports, the vacuum of space, and enflamed coolant. Huldrych wished he had a mirror to appreciate himself. Perhaps vanity was an aspect all droids possessed. Surely creatures such as they could find nothing more aesthetically pleasing than their sharp edges, shining surface, and egalitarian construction. Perhaps not, though. Vanity such as Huldrych's was also disturbingly common in... fleshies... he noted with a sigh of dismay.

To distract himself from the worries of his own biology Huldrych removed his datapad from its pouch on his hip, reading Anshar's orders for the umpteenth time in the past hour. While he knew them to the letter, he could never be too careful. Droids, he mused, were notorious for redundancy. Ah.

Droidlike - Adjective
similar to a droid; having the appearance, traits, etc., of a droid.

His mood definitively lifted, Huldrych set the datapad back in his pouch and re-read the orders in his head. He would rendezvous with the other members of the small strike team aboard the Phlegethon and report to Guardian Szordryn. He would accompany them to the planet and act as a tactical adviser. Once Deutta's location had been discovered/reached, Huldrych would provide sniper cover for the team infiltration the palace, fortress, redoubt, etc...

While Huldrych regretted not being able to shoot the Hutt personally (he had always wondered what it would be like to plug such a corpulent beast with a shot to the belly) the mission would be stimulating at the very least. The thought of assassinating Deutta the Hutt personally caused Huldrych to gasp in sudden pleasure as he tightly gripped the barrel of his rifle, whose butt rested on the polished surface of the floor, the gun set between his legs, leaning gently on one knee. He could feel its anticipation building. He hoped it would not be disappoin-

*PING*

Huldrych sneered at being interrupted so.

"Approaching Cruiser Phlegethon. Docking in 2 standard minutes. All military personnel prepare for disembarkation."

Those around him began to stand and Huldrych followed suit, the servomotors in his knee-joints whining as he stood. He was getting old, even for a droid and replacement parts were expensive. He would have to interface with Sato in the near future about finding cheaper (or possibly free) replacement parts.

The passengers wobbled and teetered visibly as the shuttle lurched, passing through the magnetic field of the cruiser's docking bay, gripping tightly to the hand-holds dangling from the ceiling. As the shuttle set down the side bulkheads of the passenger bay began to slide back and personnel began descending the ramps and reporting to the ship's conscription officers, assigning them to certain stations.

Slinging his rifle up onto his shoulder, Huldrych followed the smattering of crewmen and soldiers into the docking bay, forming two neat, efficient, distinctively military lines. As his turn came the conscription officer paid him a slightly longer glance than he had afforded most of the others. Apparently Chiss were not as common around here as everyone had said (though he had already surmised this as he had not seen another since his exile).

"Unit 9709, sharpshooter class reporting per orders of Anshar Kahn Tarentae," Huldrych stated without being asked. He had been aboard enough capital ships to know what the man needed to know, but droids were apt to provide more information than required, after all. A programming flaw?

"You're checked in. Report to Szordryn in the assault bay, he'll have further orders for you."

With a click of his heels and an arm outstretched in salute (a habit after decades of military service more than a courtesy), Huldrych departed the shuttle bay, following those with similar orders. These Republic ships were designed so poorly. They could stand to learn something from the Chiss Engineering and Aesthetics department at CEC. However any information he revealed would only serve to label him more a traitor than he already was.

Boots clicking on the polished floor and rifle slung tightly over his shoulder, Huldrych strode towards the Assault Bay.

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Ronovi

20-02-2008 04:34:54

The first thing Ronovi noticed after working to get everyone equipped was that she felt a renewed sense of strength pervading her body. She could feel muscles and sinews once sore become flexible and fit once more, and she could even sense that the various marks and scrapes on her face and hands were healing. Many of her other comrades looked the same as they prepared for battle, all looking much calmer and more confident than before.

The second factor she discovered was that, more so than ever before, she knew of strategies, of drop ship techniques and battle tactics. For the first time, she felt like an official member of a battle team ready to fight an obvious threat. But she wasn’t ready yet. Knowing tactics and strategies was one thing; enforcing that knowledge properly was another.

Ronovi now looked up at Szordryn, who had just finished speaking. She had been more than pleased to carry out the orders given by him; this was a good first step. She continued to aid a few others not yet done with equipping themselves, helping them grapple ammo and firearms to the best of their ability.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see new soldiers entering the Phlegethon, but they were a sharp contrast from the tangle of acolytes and novices that she was a part of. They were all finely equipped, rifles positioned properly at their shoulders, neatly arranged into two lines. They were not battle-beaten or ragged, not ill-equipped in the slightest. As they dissembled and saluted their officers, Ronovi felt the familiar twinge of humility and reverted her attention back to Szordryn.

However, his attention was elsewhere. A fellow Dark Jedi had approached him and was talking to him quickly.

“The loading is almost done, sir. Any and all those you consider unfit to fight—”

“Remove them from the deck immediately. There should be shuttles that can take to shelters as seen fit,” Szordryn replied.

“Any more orders from Anshar or Raiju, sir?”

“We should be leaving the bay shortly, but there is much more work to do. Take care to the newly arrived troops. Make sure they’re comfortable.”

“Yes, sir,” the officer said, saluting Szordryn.

Szordryn returned the salute, looking noble as he did so, and as the officer went to carry out his orders, he returned his attention to Ronovi. “Is everyone equipped, Tavisaen?”

Ronovi nodded quickly.

“And everyone is well?”

Another nod. Szordryn nodded back, his face stoic.

“I want you to maintain the others as well as you can. There will be other matters I must attend to, such as the new arrivals. I cannot babysit, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Szordryn nodded again before turning his attention elsewhere to the entering troops. Ronovi looked at the others calmly; they stared back at her, as if awaiting orders, their arms and clips equipped correctly, their eyes averted upward, faces bright with anticipation. They were much livelier than before, even more than some of them had been for holding back the refugees on Yridia IX. Perhaps the idea of being in good hands among higher-ups on the strike team relaxed them, as their numbers had been painfully stretched thin in Eden City.

Ronovi had equipped herself carefully as well, shortly after supervising those before her. The smell of fresh ammo and armor loosened her up, and she felt the tension in her shoulders dissipate. It had been a habit of hers to become stiff near her neck and down her back, but fighting or even the idea of fighting unknotted all of the stiff joints and fibers in her muscles, and she felt a quiet excitement for what was to come pervade her senses.

She could not tell how long it had been since she had first boarded the Phlegethon, but as she sat down, she could feel the bustling of the team preparing for the stirke. With this team of experienced or inexperienced warriors, fighting the Hutt may not be as much of a challenge as she and the other novices had theorized before. But again, the challenge lay more in their experience rather than the matters of the outcome.

Then Ronovi remembered the various strategies as given to her as she relaxed her body upon Szordryn’s orders. She thought about what it would be like when she finally joined with her superiors, the idea of an all-armed strike team at the Hutt. The thought thrilled her further, and she gripped her ammo in determination.

It was only a matter of time before Ronovi would receive more official orders. For now, she had to patiently wait.

Raiju

20-02-2008 14:36:06

The hanger of the Phlegethon was busy and crowded. There were way too many people here, with ships docking every few minutes bringing more people in to help. It was insane, and Raiju was getting tired of it. With Doni captured, it was obvious just how great an ascent to the clan he was now as any attempt to mount a simple ground operation had become messy and confusing. Moments ago, Raiju had gotten the word from Anshar. Fifteen people max, all armed but dressed down to look like refugees, plus a pilot, Dranik, and Anshar. Plan was simple; the Sentinel was covert enough to look like a refugee transport. They were going to use it under the cover as a last refugee transport to be turned away from the Tarenti government and were turned away to Karideph. That would get them to land on the planet and from there they would have to find means from the refugee sector to the Hutt’s fortress.

The plan was simple enough, but Raiju was standing outside the shuttle under the port wing getting in one last smoke break before it was time to leave. Anshar and Dranik would be down momentarily to join them before they left but before they could Raiju needed to cut some fat from the strike team. More people had volunteered and showed up on the Phlegethon then they could use or handle, dozens of fellow journeymen and Yridian militants who had volunteered for the mission. Taking one last drag from his cigarette before walking around the ship and up the deck, Raiju looked in at the group crowded in the ships hull. They had twenty-five people on board, ten had to go. Flicking his cigarette out the back of the shuttle, the Obelisk exhaled a large cloud of smoke and gazed through it at the members of the strike team.

Szordryn was quick to walk up to him and give a report on the team, but Raiju didn’t bother to wait and listen. Walking through the crowd with the Guardian in tow, the Ryn watched as the faces of the volunteers’ twitched as his scent hit their senses. Reaching out in the force, Raiju individually touched the minds of the members he walked by and looked for any signs of weakness.

“You three,” Raiju started as he stopped beside three apprentices and a female Novice and pointed to the three apprentices. “Drop your gear and guns, and get off the ship. You’re not fit for this campaign. Novice, return their weapons and gear to the lockers.”

A slight nod came from the Novice Szordryn identified as Ronovi before she grabbed the weapons and gear from the apprentices. There was no need for explaination, they were tired from earlier engagements but had tried to hide it. Continuing his check, Raiju noticed the Archpreist Apollo and gave him a nod of acknowledge; Raiju felt better already with some experience coming with him but quickly felt more guilt as he told seven more volunteers to leave. Down to fifteen, including himself, Apollo, Ronovi, the sniper Huldrych and Szordryn plus five other Dark Jedi and five Yridian soldiers. Now all that remained was Anshar and Dranik to show up.

Moving over to the weapon lockers, Raiju passed Ronovi again and asked her to go sit and scrap in and relay the word to the rest that they were about to leave. Opening one of the lockers and grabbing some ammo packs, a E11 rifle, and a bryar pistol and strapping them onto his body or pack, Raju then turned to the Guardian behind him.

“Where did you put my bags?” Raiju asked, before moving over to the corner Szordryn pointed to. Dropping his pack to the floor, Raiju opened one of his bags he brought from the Magnus Kraener and pulled out his fira which was still sheathed. Strapping the sheath’s belt around his chest so the weapon was held on his back, accessible over his left shoulder, the Ryn than picked up his pack of ammo and explosives and wore it protectively over the sheathed weapon so it was barely visible.

As the Ryn turned, he slapped the shoulder of the Guardian and told him to make his way to the cockpit and help the pilot make ready for flight. As the Sith moved to the cockpit, Raiju scanned the holding area one more time and checked the status of the thirteen other members of the team. Everyone was ready, each strapped into their seats with packs or robes covering their weapons and gear. Ryn quickly made his way to the rear of the shuttle now hoping to catch the Consul before he entered the ship, but just as Raiju rounded the last corridor to the loading ramp, he came face to face with the Dark Jedi Master and Dranik.

“Welcome Consul,” Raiju started with a slight bow before stepping aside to give way to both the elder and equite. “Everyone is ready, the pilot and Szordryn are prep and ready to launch. Also, I have everyone arranged in the main hold with a holoprojector in the centre for your use to officially brief them.”

“Excellent, well done Raiju.” Anshar said as he lead Dranik and the Ryn into the main hold. “Tell Szordryn he can launch. I’ll brief everyone on the ground operation while in flight, and remind them on limited force use policy.”

Anshar

21-02-2008 15:41:08

With a lurch, the transport launched from the Phlegethon, leaving the larger ship behind. A quick micro jump into hyperspace would put enough distance between the two vessels, as well as allowing the transport to alter its trajectory into the system. This, when combined with the artificially crafted battle damage, would alleviate or eliminate any potential problems with the port controllers.

And now the briefing came. Anshar entered the main hold of the vessel from the bridge, with Dranik taking a position off in the corner. The murmuring died down as the holo-projector lit up, showing the street layout of the city area, with a marker indicating the port and Deutta’s compound. Once again, Tarentum intelligence had come through.

“Members of the clan, I thank you for volunteering,” began Anshar. “We have a rather simple goal: eliminate Deutta the Hutt and his organization. I do not merely want to decapitate the organization, such as what happened when Jabba the Hutt was killed. I want to raze it to the ground. Even if they are not totally aware of whom we are, I’m not willing to leave it to chance that one of Deutta’s lieutenants doesn’t know, or can’t figure it out.”

“The first part of the mission is simply getting into place,” continued Anshar after letting his first statements sink in. “We are posing as refugees now; with the overflow, customs has become a bit lax, so getting some of your weapons in shouldn’t be an issue. Deutta himself is a refugee, but he was able to set himself up just outside the refugee sector. Once we have disembarked, you will have to spread out and take up positions around the Hutt base, without drawing any attention to yourself from other refugees, Hutt related or not..” A series of lines and arrows spread through the hologram, indicating likely positions for the members to take up.

“You expect us just to storm the place?” asked Raiju.

“Not exactly,” replied Anshar. “Dranik and myself will, for lack of a better phrase, knock on the front door. In fact, I expect Deutta to have agents watching the landing port. Though all of you are dressed up like poor refugees, Dranik and I will be putting on a good show to attract attention. Once we have entered the compound, we will sow confusion within, including destroying any security systems.” The map changed to reveal what was the likely layout for the compound, but everyone knew that sensor sweeps from probes could only accomplish so much. “Once these are down, the rest of you may begin your attack. I will need someone to cover each exit.” Anshar’s eyes fell upon Huldrych, among a few others.

“And what of the Force?”

“Do not use it unless you are inside the compound,” said Anshar. “Those that raise weapons against you can be killed however you see fit. Those that might be considered innocent bystanders can be spared, though we do not anticipate a great deal of them. We will just have to handle them as we find them. Once we are done, we will scatter and meet back at the transport. Any questions?” If anyone had any, they didn’t ask them. With that, the briefing ended and Anshar and Dranik returned to the bridge.

‘That is a rather simplistic plan,’ thought Dranik.
‘Perhaps,’ replied Anshar telepathically, ‘but we’re dealing with a simplistic enemy.’
‘You still did not tell them about the other part of your plan,’ commented Dranik.
‘There was no need to,’ said Anshar. ‘Everyone will be well out of the compound before we put that into motion.’ Dranik merely shrugged. The changing vibration of the deck plates indicated that the transport was dropping out of hyperspace.

Dralin

21-02-2008 18:51:18

The Omwati Tetrarch felt the ship shudder slightly as it dropped out of hyperspace. Leaning against one of the door-frames, Dralin considered the Consul's words, his still-sore body trying to tell him to lie down. The newly-promoted Jedi Hunter shook his head, glad he made it in time to catch Anshar's address. Due to his...incident, he nearly didn't make it in time to volunteer to destroy what Dralin considered to be a blight on the Minos Cluster, but he had pushed his recovery enough to attend.

And now we will make Deutta pay... the Hunter thought to himself, still brimming with anger and guilt over Doni Tzu Tarentae's capture.

Everyone was silent in the briefing room as the ship made its way towards Karideph's atmosphere, a low roar being heard as they eventually began passing through. Dralin used to opportunity to look around at the other volunteers, none of which were from his House, and thus, most were unfamiliar. There was the Ryn, Raiju, whom he had met before, as well as Apollo, but there was also a Human, a Chiss with photoreceptors, and a green-looking Epicanthix that he had never seen before.

This is the strike force? Oh well, we would be more than powerful enough to take on most mundane problems, I suppose.

Grunting slightly as he righted himself, the Omwati moved away from the door-frame, bracing himself with the Force instead. Pacing the room, the Tetrarch glanced at the others as the ship slowed, docking in the Karideph spaceport. The volunteers looked at each other, then made their way out the door, heading for the exit. Discreetly checking his sewn-in pockets, Dralin made sure he had everything he would need: his knives, his hold-out blaster, his poisons. He had provided his own battered-looking 'refugee clothing,' all of which he had modified himself to accommodate his silent, yet brutal, fighting style. Secrecy would serve them well getting into the base, and he hoped that he would prove to be of some help with that.

Szordryn

23-02-2008 13:58:26

"So what have we here? More frelling refugees from the looks of it!" The officer sighed deeply and strode off towards the shuttle which had just set down in his area. Too many of these nowadays, where do they think they are going to stay, and why should we look after them? he thought to himself as he walked the long yards across the landing pad. Some jawas came over to see and he instinctively grabbed hold of his datapad. "Damn runts!" he exclaimed. They scuttled back towards the shadows talking to each other in their incomprehensible gabble. He had no time for Jawas, always taking any spare things, anything not nailed down, anything that walked and was mechanical, anything...

There was a hiss as the door opened and a group of bedraggled people spilled forth. "Oh frell!" He nervously looked over at the security office window and signalled for help. Hopefully they noticed.

"Stay on board, until clearance is approved. Who is in charge?"

A tall man with a long coat came forward, stepping past the group on the landing ramp of the shuttle. He strode confidently towards the officer and extended a hand towards him "Captain De Santos, and this is the 'Desperandum'. I have passengers to declare who wish to claim asylum or whatever. They are refugees you know." The tall man leaned towards him and said in a lower tone "and the sooner I get them off my ship the better, the smell, I mean ugh" With a nod he indicated a ryn in the group, who was slowly being isolated by the others as they shuffled about. He indicated the battle damage on the hull and commented on it "I am glad you don't try to shoot people down here, it is a warmer welcome than we got elsewhere. So where is the repair station and what about entertainment, if you know what I mean?" He gave the officer a wink.

"I am to have to check all your papers first" As he said this he took the datapad from the Captain and started to read the details of the passenger manifest. He became aware of a presence next to him, a dark presence that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise, made him sweat imperceptibly and caused his mouth to dry. He looked up from the pad to see a man to his side, who looked at him with a cold hard look. His heart skipped a beat and he felt rooted to the spot.

"You don't need to see MY identification. We are cleared. Return to your office and stay there" The tone in Anshar's voice was calm and level yet to the customs officer was loaded with menace. He was only too happy to comply with the request and nervously looked towards the security office. Nobody had seen him. He knew nobody would. Ever. He had to return to the office, now and be safe as long as he obeyed this man, this powerful man who would cause his world to end. He left, quickly.

Anshar turned towards the exit and strode purposefully towards it, with Dranik joining him and following slightly behind and to the left. Anshar activated the doorway which slid open with a long gentle hiss, a noise completely at odds with the size and strength of the immense blast doors. The street revealed before them was full of creatures of assorted size and shape, who moved instinctively out of the way as the two dark jedi made their way towards the Hutt compound.

Raiju took control of the rest of the group. "OK, you all know the plan, split up and make your way towards your posts. Wait for the signal and go." He looked at Szordryn, aka Captin De Santos. "You too, get moving."

"Yes sir." He ran back to the shuttle as the rest of them made their way out of the landing zone. Under his coat he had his black mando armour to which he added his pack and helmet, donning his special utility belt. A swift adjustment and the personal holo projector took effect, transforming him into a humble looking civilian. "Much easier to move about unnoticed now" he said to himself. Checking his equipment he had his heavy blaster in shoulder holster, a blaster carbine strapped to his thigh, his special long range disruptor rifle in his hands and his concussion rifle slung on his left shoulder. If they get into trouble, it will be a pleasure getting them out of it. Though he was looking forward to sniping off most of the opposition.

As he strode out of the landing pad he was aware of his own excitement at the battle to come.

Raiju

23-02-2008 15:39:10

The cloud of smoke slowly bellowed from the lips of the Ryn as he held the breath he had just inhaled with the deadly toxins of the cigarette he was smoking. Slowly exhaling what hadn’t already escaped from his open mouth, Raiju stared through the cloud of smoke that rose in front of him towards the ugly human waitress that should behind the bar. It was obvious why she was here, serving at this time of day; the owner of the bar left their prime waitresses for the night shift while the less attractive females and male attendants were given the day hours. The situation had to be hard for them, as barely anyone was here at this time of day expect a couple of goons that sat in one of the back booths towards the rear of the bar. Guards obviously, protecting over the main entrance to the higher levels of the Hutt’s hideout.

It was a typical front for such an organization; and would have even been more typical if it had been a nudy bar but perhaps that would have brought too much attention from the local authorities. Nonetheless, here Raiju was enjoying cold glass of ale waiting for the proper signal from Anshar and Dranik after spending little time getting into position. After departing the spaceport, the team had split up and moved independently to each of their assigned positions, and given that Raiju was a ryn that wasn’t hard. Not too many people bothered with the Ryns, thinking little of them and not wanting to deal with their fowl scent but every now and then someone felt like approaching him and causing [Expletive Deleted] like it was an universal way of kicking the dog. Those that had bothered Raiju on his way here were left with a swift assault against their face leaving them bloodied, or in one case of a failed mugging attempt they ended up an opened throat from the swift movement of Raiju’s fira. However, the mood Raiju felt from the waitress and grunts at the back of the bar was less then welcoming. Raiju was here to both coordinate the team and watch for an signs of success or trouble from Anshar and Dranik.

Sitting with a small eye piece in his left ear, Raiju listened as everyone got into position and confirmed readiness. Unfortunately, the waitress seemed to be becoming increasing suspicious of him or at least that’s what her facial features seemed to communicate.

“Apollo here,” The tiny ear piece boomed intoed Raiju’s eardrum. “In position.”

Raiju acknowledged with two clicks of the comlink from underneath the table. Lending forward into another drag of his cigarette, as if adjusting his position in his chair, Raiju peered out the front window across the street to a small eatery where the Archpriest sat with Dralin. It was good to have friends nearby, Raiju was a little nervous about being at the entrance of the Hutt’s lair alone. But with Apollo and Dralin across the street, and Huldryn on top a building to the left of them, he was starting to feel a little better.

Peering at the back of the bar, Raiju wondered where the Consul and Dranik were. The two had made straight for the Hutt’s bar after exiting the spaceport, and were almost immediately challenged before they had made it twenty feet outside the door. From there, they had been escorted in and granted an audience with Raiju tagging behind and entering the bar on his own as a lonely space traveller looking for a drink. However, that was the plan to appear that they were not connected, unfortunately it concerned Raiju that everyone was in position now and no word or signs from the pair inside were being displayed. Suddenly though, of the half dozen sitting at the back a group of four quickly rose from their seats and went through the door that must have lead to a stairwell. Of the two remaining, one rose to stand in front of the door and the other walked over to the waitress and whispered something into her ear before returning to his friend to stand in front of the door also.

“Activity by the entrance.” Raiju whispered into the comlink, “Stay frosty.”

As several clicks from each of the team acknowledged his word, Raiju watched as the waitress rounded the corner of the bar and approached the Ryn. Before she could say anything, the Ryn gave a toothy smile and beat her to breaking the silence.

“Hey sweetheart, think I could get another ale please?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been told I have to ask you to leave.” The waitress said, grabbing the empty glass away from the Ryn. Raiju felt his smile drop as he quickly pondered what to say or do, nodding quickly as if accepting what the waitress had said; the Ryn stood and pushed in the chair he had been sitting on. Rubbing the cigarette he had been smoking into the ashtray on the table, Raiju moved toward the door before starting quickly. Turning around, Raiju was quick to ask if he may use the refresher before leaving but the expression the waitress displayed as she turned towards the goons at the back proved that that had been a bad idea. Quickly the two men moved from their positions by the door over to the Ryn, and stood confidently blocking the Ryn’s way to the back. While Raiju had thought about just heading out over to the eatery across the street, a quick moment from the larger of the two men warned Raiju of a coming attack and the Ryn quickly dropped into a defensive stance and lashed out into the man’s throat causing him to reel back.

As the second man moved to pulled his blaster pistol from its place on the side of his belt, Raiju launched his head forward into his nose. As the second, and smaller man cried out in pain; Raiju lashed his fira out from his sheath and quickly slashed the blade’s edge across the man’s throat thereby silencing his moans. However, despite the Ryn’s speed he had been unable to deal with the second man before the first had recovered and drew his blaster. Raiju felt a wave of shock hit his mind as he turned back to the first man and came face to face with the barrel of the first man’s blaster; but before the large man could unload into Raiju’s face the Ryn watched as well place shot from Huldryn pierced the man’s chest from the back; causing him to flinch and fall to the ground.

Thankful for the save, Raiju made a mental note to buy Huldryn a drink before he yelled at the barmaid to shut up as he ran to the rear entrance. Taking up position outside of the door, Raiju sheathed his fira and drew his pistol and pointed it at the closed door. As Apollo and Dralin rushed up quickly beside him, Raiju ordered into the comlink for everyone commence to their assigned roles and watched as Dralin swung the door wide open and Apollo pump three blasts into the grunt that had been behind it. Following the Archpreist up the stairwell, Raiju heard the chatter over the comlink grow as each member of the strike team confirmed enemy contact. The only bright sound made was the confirmation from Beck, a Yridian soldier and tech coordinator, that Anshar and Dranik had succeed and the security cameras were now non-functional.

Ronovi

23-02-2008 17:27:19

Ronovi let her shoulders relax as she surveyed the building ahead of her, eyeing the back exit with a hand on her blaster holster; Raiju had issued an order for her to observe the activity at the rear. While her refugee attire was more than perfect, she still maintained a quiet atmosphere, standing inconspicuously in the outside air. In her normal line of vision, there were around four lightly armored grunts around the back exit. It was almost as if they were prepared for a strike in the back. Ronovi cracked the knuckles on her right hand before reaching for her comlink.

“Szordryn, what’s your position?” she asked.

“All clear. I’ve got your back, rookie,” Szordryn replied, his voice soft and crackling on the other end.

Ronovi smiled. Rookie indeed, so it was a definite plus to have Szordryn backing her up. From what she could gather, the guardian was a decent distance back, but she didn’t turn her head to look. She began her approach toward the building, listening to the clicks and whispers on her comlink as she heard Raiju’s confirmation that he had successfully entered the Hutt’s complex. She’d have to hurry to catch up.

As she let her pace pick up, she threw herself against the sidewall of the rear end of the building, letting her peripheral vision do the work. The guards had obviously detected some movement; she held her breath as she heard their footsteps as they repositioned themselves around the exit, which she noticed was sealed tightly. She had no other choice; she’d have to sneak up on them. Drawing her E-11 from her holster, Ronovi let her body be slightly visible as she let her master eye fall on one grunt.

“Hey, what the Hell—”

Another of the guards had seen her move just as Ronovi landed a shot between her target’s shoulder blades. Dead almost instantly, he fell to the ground just as the other three guards drew their own blasters. The fourth had been an easy kill, but the Epicanthix knew that a Novice facing even just three grunts wouldn't be a simple task. Ronovi somersaulted just in time so that two shots pierced the wall and another merely singed the sleeve of her tattered jacket. While they attempted to re-aim, the Epicanthix shifted her blaster to her left hand while upper-cutting one guard with her right fist, sending him to his knees with blood spurting from his now broken nose.

Ronovi moved to strike another of the goons only to have one of them plant a polished boot into her left wrist, loosing her grip and letting her E-11 tumble to the ground. Swinging her arm, Ronovi caught the kicker in the mouth before remembering the knives that she had also equipped. Drawing one, she made a quick incision across the guard’s throat, letting him drop like a rock to the ground. Two down, two more to go.

As the guard with the broken nose attempted to regain focus, Ronovi attempted to retrieve her blaster only to watch the unscathed goon precisely turn it into a smoldering mess with one blast from his rifle. Feeling the rage rise in her cheeks, Ronovi raised her knife only to receive a blow to the side of her head by the butt of one of the guard’s rifles. Disoriented, she dropped her weapon and stumbled, feeling the blood begin to drip from the new gash next to her ear as her arms were wrenched behind her and one of the grunts pressed the barrel of his blaster against her forehead. Of course, at that moment, Szordryn was ready, and, smiling and aiming his rifle, he fired a fatal shot to the guard who was holding Ronovi. Feeling relief swell in her chest and quietly thanking Szordryn for basically saving her life, Ronovi loosened herself from the goon’s grip as he rolled on his back, smoke issuing from his fractured skull.

The final one standing, having pulled back his weapon in shock at Szordryn’s kill, had no time to react as Ronovi brought her fists crashing into his face. Then, retrieving her knife, which had fallen beside victim number three, she seized the guard by the collar and, listening to his screams, made a slow but precise cut across his jugular and let the blood coagulate on his throat.

It was not a clean kill, but the experience of close combat had made Ronovi a bit too excited as she saw Szordryn slowly emerge from his sniping spot, re-adjusting his rifle on his shoulder.

“Nice shot, sir,” she said.

Szordryn raised an eyebrow at the bodies. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. But next time, try a little less blood, a little more strategy, all right, Ronovi?”

“Yes, sir,” Ronovi replied as she removed a rifle from one of the guards' grip. She slung it over her shoulder – just in case, she figured, as her blaster was nothing more than twisted, melted metal now - before she saw Szordryn remove a heavy blaster from his shoulder holster and blow the sealed exit wide open. Taking his comlink, Szordryn clicked it and spoke softly, “Szordryn to Raiju – back exit has been cleared. We’re in.”

“Affirmative. Make your way through. We should be encountering each other in a few minutes.”

Szordryn looked at Ronovi and Ronovi nodded her understanding before they passed various security cameras noticeably disabled by Anshar and Dranik, moving through various corridors before reaching a stairwell similar to the one in the rear entrance. As they stopped for a moment, Ronovi noticed the Ryn, an Archpriest named Apollo, and Dralin, the Omwati Krath Tetrarch she had seen occasionally on Sword’s Sheath, approach Szordryn and her.

“Glad to see you two in one piece,” Raiju said.

“What’s next?” Ronovi asked.

“Anshar must be approaching the Hutt with undeniable speed. We must intercept both of them, as well as Dranik, ASAP.” Raiju turned his eyes from Ronovi and looked at the other three. “The others should be catching up soon and we’ll be on our way. We should be strong enough to take out any obstacles, but do not let your guard down.”

The others nodded their comprehending of Raiju’s orders before the Ryn directed his hand towards the opposite side of the corridor. Maintaining awareness of their surroundings and their arms at all times, the small group began their trek in the direction of the Hutt.

Anshar

24-02-2008 22:06:51

The chaos that the two Tarentae spread was undeniable. Striking down any that tried to stand in their way, Anshar and Dranik descended further into the base. Having only been recently taken over by the Hutt, the facility was devoid of many booby traps that one might expect to find in such a situation.

That still didn’t solve the guard problem entirely, but with word of the security system down, and shouts of an assault, the guards were not massing against the true threat. A Gammorean fell to Dranik’s katana as Anshar Forced hurled a Gotal into a wall with bone crushing speed. It had been said that many Jedi and Dark Jedi alike had fallen in battle because of their arrogance, in their underestimation of the enemy. In this particular case, though, they had probably overestimated what was against them.

An explosion somewhere else in the compound indicated that the battle had picked up in intensity somewhere, but more explosions could also likely bring the authorities in. Anshar cursed, but he knew it was none of his clan members who were using the explosives: they hadn’t brought any.

“To the left,” said Dranik as they approached a four way intersection with a fountain in the middle of it. The grotesque gargoyles on the top of the fountain seemed to leer at the two Tarentae. Suddenly, the statues crumbled with a light detonation and rapid fire blasters appeared. They spewed forth thousands of shots a second, forcing Anshar and Dranik to dodge behind two wall supports. However, the stone walls would not stand up to the blasters for long as piece by piece, the walls were chipped apart. Anshar glanced over at Dranik, staring his apprentice right in the eyes.

Without a word or communicated thought, the two coordinated their attack. Anshar leapt out into the hallway, both of his lightsabers blazing to life, the red bolts ricocheting off the royal blue and violet blades. At the same time, Dranik dove to the ground, producing the two Westar-34s he carried with him. The Obelisk prelate had always preferred other weapons over his lightsaber, and in this case, they proved to be the right choice. The rapid firing of the Westars chewed the opposing guns to pieces. Finally, the last one fell silent.

Dranik stood up and quickly closed in behind Anshar. The turned left at the intersection, coming face to face with thick durasteel doors. His lightsabers still out, Anshar drove them into the middle, where the two doors met. Cutting through every latch first, Anshar then pried the two doors open with the Force.

They entered, finding themselves in a circular room, with incredible tall ceilings. At the back, only a crescent shaped dais surrounded by a Gungan style force field, lay the giant slug that Anshar could only presume was Deutta the Hutt. “[Welcome Jedi],” he said in Huttese. Anshar understood enough of the language to get the gist of what he was saying. “[You have caused me a lot of trouble, but you will soon pay for that. You’re men are outmatched- I planned for them to come as soon as I saw them get off the shuttle you so cleverly disguised.]”

“It appears as if we didn’t give him enough credit,” said Dranik. Deutta rumbled with a typical Hutt laugh.

“[You will now die].” With that, Deutta punched two keys on his arm rest. The ground began to tremble and the dais began to rise to the ceiling, the force field moving with it. From behind the dais, three metal gates rose. There was a short pause before three roars filled the room and, undoubtedly, the rest of the facility.

Coming from each of the gates was a Kell dragon, each one covered in scars, indicating that they had been used in plenty of fights before. The creatures were wary of each other, but their instinct to go after prey was even stronger.

“I still get to take care of the Hutt myself,” said Anshar.

“Whatever,” replied Dranik.

Dralin

25-02-2008 04:56:13

Signaling to the Ryn, both Humans, and Epicanthix, Dralin took point, traversing the corridors with his blaster pistol drawn, leading the others to where Anshar and Dranik should have been dealing with the Hutt. Making their way down the durasteel hallways, an occasional skirmish would take place, the small strike team easily mopping up what the Consul and his apprentice hadn't destroyed. Each easily took positions in their team, every one of them playing a part.

When taking point, the Omwati would be on the lookout for an ambush through conventional means, like his master had taught him, while telling the others to use their Force senses to sweep the area. He didn't want them to know about his problem with that aspect of the Force, so he merely used it as if he were helping them practice. While the Jedi Hunter could take down the first opponent they came to, Ronovi would often take the place of the brawler, easily overwhelming her enemies with brute force. Raiju would use his superior dexterity to weave his way through their enemies, often making his way to his Omwati comrade, the two coordinating their attacks. Apollo would stand back, easily incapacitating the thugs that broke off from the group, using his blaster to peg off the ones that were distracted by the combat, the Force easily telling him when to shoot and where.

Taking note of the disabled security cameras, Dralin said, "They have no way of knowing when or where we'll show up. With luck, we'll have the element of surprise to get in a couple shots before the Consul and his apprentice steal all the fun."

Just before Raiju could reply, three distinct roars filled the hallways, causing the strike team's eyes to widen. Rushing down the corridors, the group made their way finally to an opening into a large room, where they could clearly see Anshar and Dranik, as well as Deutta the Hutt and three Kell dragons.

Szordryn

27-02-2008 13:11:54

It was not the best situation he had been in, though he had also seen worse. "Hutts always like to keep their surprises, and their special exits too." he mused to himself.

Taking stock of it all, Dralin was in the lead, so he was blocking his line of fire, with Raiju in front and Tavisaen to his right, the others behind. He quickly nudged Tavisaen with his disruptor rifle and passed it to her with his right hand, while unslinging and activating his Stouker rifle with his left. The rifle gave a reassuring hum as it activated and he could feel its tingle as it came to life, charging the capacitors for the first shot.

"Don't use your fists for this one" his voice crackled mechanically from inside the mandolorian helmet. "Aim for the eyes first, then through to the brain."

As he spoke he pushed Dralin into the room and deftly moved his right hand down to his belt controls. With a roar his pack jets came to life and he took to the air, aiming straight for the Hutts throne near the ceiling. He knew the shield would stop any shots he would make, but it could not stop him passing through.

The flight was brief, with the dragons below pausing in the entranceways as they considered the potential of this new threat. Anshar and Dranik took advantage of the delay, with Anshar reaching out with his senses, he could just activate it he thought. A downward motion of his hand and the steel door of the right hand tunnel came plummeting down, severing the dragon underneath it in two pieces. Dranik had already activated his saber and finished the creatures death throes with a well timed strike.

Tavisaen had already started aiming and sighted the central dragon with the rifle and was waiting for it to drop its gaze from Szordryn above it, so she could have a clear shot at the eye socket. The motion to its left, and its fellow's death caused it to assess the prey in front of it, and it realised instantly that it had less competition to its left hand side. It moved quickly towards Dranik, who had just recovered his saber.

She took the moment to squeeze the trigger, but too quick. The beam hit the eye, but not far enough back to penetrate further. The creature reared up and howled in pain and anger as the front portion of its eye was burned off by the lethal disruptor beam. Tavisaen cursed wholeheartedly, realising that the slow recharge on the weapon would cause a delay in taking a second shot. The dragon's eye was punctured though, and fluid poured out over its snout and dripped on the floor. It attempted to focus on the small figure in front of it and lashed out with its foreleg. Dranik saw the blow coming, felt it through the force and had already started moving.

The third dragon was also starting to move, it was to the left of the group, and from its perspective the group ahead of it was clearly the one to move towards, since they seemed not to be doing anything threatening. It started to move towards them quickly, gathering speed.

Apollo, Raiju and Dralin saw the threat and reacted. Dralin aimed for the eyes with his blaster pistol, aiming off a couple of quick shots and backing down the corridor for cover and to draw it after him. Tavisaen moved into the room and off to the right, nearer to Anshar and hoping for a clear shot without getting clawed.

Apollo and Raiju, with the force to guide them, moved to left and right of the dragon, drawing sabers and readying themselves. As the dragon, enraged by the blaster fire from Dralin, headed straight towards him, they arced their sabers back, up and down, striking at the dragon from each side and neatly cutting through the forelimbs. The dragon fell head first to the floor roaring in pain and crashed into one side of the doorway with a loud thud, which dented the surrounding panel considerably.

Szordryn had flown through the screen and as he did so an uncomfortable thought came to him. Though he had experienced this many times before, he had never tested this particular suit of armour in this environment. What if the screen shorted out some circuits, leaving him in an embarrassing situation falling on those below. Well, he was still flying so it must be OK after all.

"You should feed your pets better, they must be hungry. Lets go see." The external commlink sounded fainter than usual. "Damn! Comm is bust". With this he shoved the rifles barrel in the Hutt's mouth, forcing him backwards and pressed the controls on the armrest with his right hand and deactivated his own thrusters. The throne started to descend.

Donitz

27-02-2008 19:40:35

A week earlier, Eliad orbit

A mind dislocated of its body soared through the infinite depths of space and time. The blurred, vast gulf spanning consciousness and death slowly narrowed and resolved as stars and planets and galaxies soared past vision, hurtling to an unknown destination. Unknown voices whispered untold secrets and imparted blasphemous knowings to the mind.

Nearly a week had passed since the Dark Adept was captured by the extragalactic invaders known as Yuuzhan Vong. Immediate sacrifice was preferred but in this case they would prefer to know the location of his compatriots, if he had any. Subsequently there was but one recourse: The Embrace of Pain.
The Adept stood little chance of either resistance or escape, and so had attempted but partially failed a self induced collapse of his own mind. The Vong had captured the flesh but not the spirit, which roamed even now in long forgotten eras among the canyons and oceans of worlds of location far beyond the known galaxy.
His captors regarded the Dark Jedi with sneering derision at first, which then turned to dismay when they knew he had gone into a complete coma. Various Vong Intendants and Shapers had poked and prodded his lifeless body to no avail. On the third day of his capture, however, dismay turned to horror. A group of the tattooed and scarred aliens had gathered studiously around him. A leading Intendant gestured and pointed out the obvious.
"The Embrace of Pain is dying," Yaan-Samri stated plainly, pointing to portions of the living torture device which had grayed and rotted. "It is certainly no longer fully functional."
Uthyest, a warrior, nodded and gestured nearby in disgust. "Even the surrounding yorik of the hull is feeling the effects. Many spots are discolored."
Yaan-Samri turned bodily towards the group and shrugged helplessly. "Several other Intendants and a Yammosk have agreed after conferring that this alien was infected with a bio-weapon of some kind. It would be reasonable to assume that it has infected us all as well and that we will be as dead as the Embrace soon enough."
This brought murmurs of worry among those gathered. Dying from sickness was about the least honorable way a Yuuzhan Vong could perish during this war.
"Obviously the Hutt has betrayed us, for unknown reasons. This also explains the arrival of his tiny fleet, perhaps thinking that we were already too sick to fend them off," Samri added, to which numerous Vong seemed all too eager to agree with.
"The Yammosk has commanded a small raid to the Hutt's palace on Karideph. We will use the captured alien transport and confront the Hutt. The stupid alien slug will certainly reveal the antidote when his life is threatened," Samri stated confidently before looking to Uthyest, a decorated warrior. "Take this thing off our ship and show him to the Hutt to communicate our seriousness. The bio-weapon will infect him and anyone on Karideph who comes near him as well. Gather forty of your finest warriors."
Uthyest stiffened in a prideful salute, grunting his satisfaction. Yann-Samri grinned and paused.
"Leave none alive."

Karideph 4, Compound of Deutta The Hutt

The throne started to descend. Suddenly, however, the platform lurched to a halt and the power within the complex flickered and died. The Tarentum team was plunged into darkness as the audible tone of a failing power generator faded into memory. Only the hum and dim glow of lightsaber blades permeated the room. Deutta himself even seem somewhat surprised - more surprised, that is, than someone who has the warm metal of a blaster barrel shoved into their mouth.
Every Taranti in the room paused, the Force belying that this event heralded a new and far graver threat. Anshar held up a hand, broadcasting a wave of reassuring and calming energy through the Force to his brethren. This was certainly not the time for panic. The smell of burnt dragon flesh and ozone permeated the darkness. Despite the cool of the interior, sweat beaded on every brow - including the Hutt's.
Not a minute had passed since the loss of power than a sharp thud was heard against a closed durasteel door. Several thuds followed and each Tarenti turned defensively against this new entry, be it friend or foe they did not know.

The rate at which the stars were hurtling passed now seemed to slow. The consciousness had seen all that was to be seen and recorded all the whispers of profane utterings laced with dark intent. The very spans of time itself opened to the mind and Oblivion revealed itself, a vast and nightmarish dead universe, haunted by the spectral casks of shattered worlds and tortured spirits. For some time it seemed that even sanity itself would shatter like a glass flower dropped from a tremendous height, for the mind was not meant to perceive such knowledge wholly. The will was strong, though, and perceive it did. Secrets legion were revealed, vast eons of discoveries hidden, and the dead spoke their wrath to the intruding mind.

The durasteel door crashed inward. The older of the Tarenti there suspected the ultimate fear which intruded beyond it, since it was one of the few things they knew their heightened and attuned senses would not reveal. The younger could only stare in wonder as the silhouettes of lithe, bony, and undoubtedly heavily armed and armored humanoids stood backlit against the blinding daylight which flooded into the darkened throne room. Anshar stepped forward, determined to protect his charges if at least to warrant their escape. A particularly tall silhouette stepped similarly into the room, carrying a burden in the crook of his arm.
"I am Uthyest, Warrior of the Yuuzhan Vong! I command the presence of Deutta the Hutt!" he roared, his deep but rasping voice echoing off the stone walls. Not a word of reply was spoken, but all Tarenti looked on in amazement as the Vong threw the limp form of Doni Tzu Tarantae onto the cold floor, where he lay motionless. The platoon of warriors behind him slowly and guardedly filed into the room.

Darkness receded. Time receded. The consciousness was being dragged forcefully back whence it came. The mind struggled against it. The mind wanted to stay, wanted to learn, wanted to see, but it was not to be. The last of its vision was plummeting down at incredible speed to a world, almost covered by city, and then to a building of stone from which smoke arose. Finally, darkness engulfed - but consciousness regained.

Ronovi

27-02-2008 19:49:49

The sight of the Yuuzhan Vong was like the unfurling of a nightmare as Ronovi stared at the foe that she had only known about, but never confronted. Ronovi looked at her fellow Tarenti, who were frozen to their spots as the warrior Uthyest stepped further toward the Hutt. Szordryn had slowly removed the barrel of his rifle from Deutta’s mouth, his eyes flickering from side to side, sweat beading on his brow. Even Anshar, still holding his lightsaber, looked troubled.

“Doni Tzu…” Dralin whispered. “They’ve brought Doni Tzu.”

That was when Ronovi felt a powerful sense of frailty in her mind. The already only semi-firm grip she had on the Force was almost diminished as she tried to sense the Vong. Everything she had learned of them was falling into place. Their biological weapons, their faces, their menace...and she could not stop her knees from shaking. Even the Hutt seemed shaken, but of course, his face did not show it.

[Uthyest…I am surprised. I had thought that we were on good terms. You’ve come at a bad time.]

“No. This is not a bad time,” hissed Uthyest. “We want answers, and we will have them now.”

[Answers?] Deutta asked. [Answers to what?]

Uthyest gestured to the body that he had tossed onto the floor, his eyes blazing. “This Jedi…this creature we have captured…has been slowly poisoning us. We have suitable evidence to believe that he is a bioweapon. And with your sudden strike on our fleet, we have more reason to believe that our ‘good terms’ are hanging by a very thin thread!”

As Uthyest spoke, Ronovi felt her eyes fall onto the Yevethan that lay in front of the imposing lines of the Vong. Doni Tzu. The name spoken by Dralin was obviously this prisoner’s name, as he lay motionless on the floor. At a first glance, she would have guessed that he was dead, but as she observed him further, she could detect the sense of life within him. She knew he was of higher rank and of extreme prestige…and with it, she felt an unfamiliar but powerful connection. With that connection came the normal irrational emotions. They were of remorse and rage, pulsing in her veins despite all of her lessons against it, the warnings that she must maintain a calm and militant composure.

Those monsters…how could they…?

[I have no time for foolish squabbling.] Deutta looked at the Vong, then at the Tarenti. Anshar’s eyes showed a determination, as if he were formulating plans in his head for the next strike. But he did not move. No one moved. The Hutt continued. [If you wish to speak with me, you must wait. As you can see, I am rather busy.]

Uthyest looked around, his nostrils flaring at the smell of dragon’s flesh, before baring his teeth and advancing on the Hutt.

“Perhaps a little more persuasion will get you a little less preoccupied!” he snarled before kicking Doni Tzu’s limp body aside and reaching for his amphistaff.

At the Uthyest’s approach, the Tarenti stepped forward as well, raising their weapons. At the sight of the group, the Vong all began to bare their teeth, snarling. Uthyest smiled a hideous smile, his hand slipping from the handle of his weapon.

“Well, well, WELL,” he hissed. “What have we here? Ten or so…refugees? With some dinky toys…amongst our men.”

The Vong howled with seething laughter, and every Tarenti knew that Uthyest was right. They were staring upon a group of forty Vong, all force-resistant, and they knew that if their identities were exposed, they would have to kill each and every one of them. Raiju looked at Doni Tzu’s body before nodding to everyone else as a silent warning. “Do not acknowledge him. We’ll get to him later,” his nod read.

Anshar was more confident than the others. Looking at Dranik, he smirked at the Vong. “I didn’t expect to see anything like you here,” he said.

Uthyest’s eyes blazed. “Oh, yes? And who might you be?”

“Who I am,” Anshar murmured, his voice thin, “is not important. What is important is that we settle everything here, and now, without any unnecessary bloodshed.”

The tension was high, and Ronovi knew that Anshar was bluffing; from the look in his eyes, she knew that no matter what happened, he would still resort to the slaughter of the Hutt. He would not leave the mission unfinished, and the others could see that. For now, they waited for Uthyest’s response to Anshar’s words. Szordryn had stepped away from the Hutt, who laughed his Huttish laugh as the human kept a relaxed grip on his rifle. I’ll get to him later,, he thought, that is, if Anshar doesn’t get to him first.

Uthyest hissed quietly to himself as he surveyed the wreck of the palace before turning back to Anshar. “It looks as if you have already brought some violence to the table no matter how much you speak of desiring peace. But I can hardly imagine how this Hutt is your business when he is clearly ours, and ours alone.”

“It is our business if it concerns anything of this blob you confront,” Dranik said, speaking in place of Anshar.

“You are a nuisance,” the warrior Vong retorted, “but I will deal with you all accordingly. You are scum to wipe out, and I will have my men arrange that.”

Ronovi felt her skin grow cold. She knew that this could be a losing battle, costing at least her life among a few others. She did not feel that she could stand a chance against the Vong, and she shook visibly. But her eyes fell once again on Doni Tzu. The rage settled over her again, and she grew stable as she watched Uthyest step toward Anshar and Dranik, his hot breath pervading their nostrils.

The Tarenti made a move to aim at Uthyest as he approached, but the various other Vong were armed and ready, and the Tarenti maintained their posts without focusing specifically on their leader. Anshar, smiling thinly, stepped aside and let Uthyest step past him and toward Deutta.

“We will have answers, Hutt,” Uthyest said. “Our fleet was attacked by yours. Our Embrace of Pain has weakened over this Jedi. And you expect us to believe that this is coincidence? You owe us plenty of boons, Deutta! Do not forget that!”

[Your accusations are outrageous,] the Hutt replied. [I? Send you a bioweapon? I gave you the location of that foolish Jedi as a sign of our alliance, and you throw it back in my face.]

Uthyest snarled, “You give this sickness as a gift, then I reject it! I curse it dearly!”

And with that sentence, he backed toward the body of Doni Tzu. No one moved as he stared at Doni Tzu with a firm repulsion. They stood still, their weapons raised, their hearts pounding like drums.

“This poison is no longer ours,” Uthyest hissed. “We no longer will hold this thing prisoner. You can take him, and should you not cooperate, you will suffer the consequences, Hutt!"

And with that, he took his amphistaff and struck Doni Tzu across the back. The Jedi’s body rolled to its side, and Ronovi almost thought she heard an audible groan from the Yevethan. Still the Tarenti did not move, but the laughter was hideous in their ears as the Vong ridiculed and mocked the group’s comrade on the floor.

Ronovi didn’t know what came over her in the next moment. It was ten percent audacity, ten percent naivety, and eighty percent stupidity that made up the feeling that overcame her. She could blame the sudden pain she felt as Doni Tzu was hit, such a prominent figure wasted to such a weak, pitiful condition. She could blame her little experience as a Jedi thus far. She could blame many things, but in front of an enemy that could obviously obliterate her in as little as a second, what she did was clearly lacking in any judgment.

Because before she could think further, Ronovi drew the rifle she had used to shoot the Kell dragon’s eye from earlier, screaming, "Don’t you hurt him, you bastard!"

With that, she fired a shot at the Vong, but in her anger, the beam singed the wall behind Uthyest. Uthyest’s eyes widened at the sight of a young Epicanthix racing toward him, her eyes blazing with undeniable anger, and raised his amphistaff to meet with the butt of her rifle. Even in her irrational fury, Ronovi knew her rifle would take a while to recharge, and she seized the Vong’s wrist while bringing the end of her rifle against his head with a sickening crunch. Uthyest slashed at the air, trying to get a good strike at Ronovi’s head, as Ronovi struck him across the jaw and his grip slackened.

At the sight of Uthyest wrestling with Ronovi and obviously gaining the upper hand. the Tarenti stood on the defensive. The Jedi’s eyes had grown wide at Ronovi’s reaction, and Dralin even whispered, “No. No, no, no, NO,” as Ronovi clung to the Vong’s armor, striking him again and again. In the meantime, a few of the Vong aimed their weapons at Ronovi and attempted to approach her or to fire at her. But the fact that Uthyest and Ronovi were in such close contact could not improve their aim, and they risked killing the warrior Vong. But at last, Uthyest found his amphistaff making contact with Ronovi’s head, but in a sudden spur of luck through her sudden loss of focus, Ronovi blindly swung her rifle with a crack behind Uthyeth's ear. To everyone's shock, he recoiled, stumbling, as if stunned, and it was through that move that Ronovi made the worst mistake, as it now separated the two from each other, giving the Vong the time to attack her.

Though heavily disoriented, her vision blurred from the strong blow to her head from the Vong’s amphistaff, Ronovi heard the sound of thud bugs as the Vong fired upon her, and she gasped audibly as she felt her body seem to become alight with fire. She was struck in the sides and the legs, and, groaning, she felt her knees give way under her as she collapsed onto the metallic floor, hearing it ring as her sight began to fade.

At the sight of the rookie falling to the ground with that horrible thud, everyone responded in a natural violence. As the Tarenti raised their weapons at the Vong, the Vong shifted their focus toward the Tarenti. Needless to say, all Hell broke loose as the blasts of guns and the fizzle of energy blades sang through the air, the floor shaking, as voices screamed obscenities and lines like, “Back! Back!” and “Every man for himself! Every man for his damn self!”

As Ronovi swam in and out of consciousness, the pain flooding every sinew of her body, she could see her various comrades struggling to fight back, but most notable in her vision was the calm and collectedness of Anshar. For as the Hutt became disoriented, various shots to his panel had caused his force field to malfunction and his throne to descend fully to the ground. With a swift movement, Anshar, his head high but his body fluid, approached the Hutt with high velocity and, taking his lightsaber in both hands, drove the blade of energy through the Hutt’s flesh, secretly enjoying the look of agony upon Deutta’s face as his life force dwindled from him.

Mission accomplished. Anshar furiously turned toward the chaos behind him. Now let’s move out of here before we become corpses.

“Everyone move out! Move out!” he roared over the screeches of the Vong and the clash of weapons, as he leapt from the throne and toward his apprentice.

As the Tarenti scattered in different directions, so did the Vong, who upon seeing the Hutt dead in front of them grew panicked as well. Though Ronovi’s wounds were hindering to say the least, the Epicanthix could feel some strength return to her limbs. As she attempted to rise to her feet, she could see Doni Tzu on the floor, Apollo and Dralin close beside him as they fired upon the Vong.

With a considerable effort, Ronovi stumbled toward Doni Tzu and lifted his limp body, which felt surprisingly light, by seizing his arm and pulling him up. Then, letting him lean against her shoulder, she gripped her rifle and used it to support her weight before she collapsed against a nearby wall. Her head heavy, she shielded Doni Tzu’s body with her own, waiting for anything, any orders, anyone to get her out of the confusion and bedlam that was encroaching was used to be Deutta’s haven.

“Ronovi!” It was Dralin, and he along with Apollo raced toward Ronovi and Doni Tzu, dodging thud bugs and the swings of blades and amphistaffs as he did so. Raiju, Szordryn, and Dranik were all busy fighting while Anshar attempted to scout a way out for the small portion of the team.

“Dr-Dralin…” Ronovi spoke the Omwati’s name slowly for the first time, feeling the pain inch up her body. She could not move much more, and it hurt to talk.

“Ronovi, you fool! Get moving!”

“Can’t…I must protect him…I must…”

Dralin’s face was stoic. He knew that they were running out of time, and Ronovi was in no state to further fight on her own. Her irrational actions had unfurled drastic consequences on her and the others, but he knew Doni Tzu must be taken to safety as well as her. He looked at Apollo.

“You take Doni Tzu. I’ll help Tavisaen. Let's get moving, and quickly!"

The Archpriest nodded before taking the Yevethan in his arms, lifting him up as he dodged more thud bugs. Then Dralin moved Ronovi’s arm to his shoulder and helped her stand up. Ronovi could barely breathe, much less walk, as she felt the undeniable pain of the thud bug shots to her sides and thighs. The Vong had all dispersed considerably, despite their advantage in numbers, for the confusion was great in the room as the team attempted to make their way out of their predicament.

Ji

27-02-2008 20:24:32

"Repeat: Building surrounded. Multiple Vong hostiles forming perimeter defensive positions around complex. Recommended point of exit: Maintenance Bay."

Razor bugs screamed all around Huldrych, mixed with the occasional spout of sporadic blaster-fire. His position on the roof across from Deutta's compound had been revealed some time ago when he found it prudent to eliminate a particularly arrogant looking organizer of the containment forces. The Yuuzhan Vong still lay crumped on the ground, his Vonduun Crab Armor having done little to protect the nape of his neck from the bolt which ended his life.

He had been directing his troops in his commander's absence to cut the building off from any traffic, in or out. Now he bled his black fluids across the concrete carpet of the street and caused Huldrych a great deal of pleasure.

Radio communication was becoming more difficult as the cacophony of insectile weapons grew in strength. Looking back over his shoulder, Huldrych hoped the barricades he had set up were holding. He had blocked the only entrance to the roof off with some heavy machinery after blowing out the stairs with a detonator. It would only slow the squad send in to eliminate him for so long, however. Such was the life of a droid.

With a sigh of profound annoyance at the fleshies within the building, Huldrych shouldered his weapon and, peeking through a crack in the hip-high wall of the roof, shot another Vong in the throat. Another perfect kill. Headshots were, of course, generally preferable and were easy pickings through the eye slit in the armor, however, Huldrych had become convinced this was the end and enjoyed watching the wounded Vong squirm and gurgle as they bled out and died.

In front of the maintenance bay there now lay approximately a dozen or so corpses, some still writhing in the agony of their final moments. While there was still at least an entire squad below (not to mention the one attempting to access the roof), it was the safest exit. It had the benefit of the confusion he was causing and its defenders were distracted.

Drilling another Vong, this one through the artery in the shoulder (provided Vong anatomy could be comparable to most species of this galaxy), Huldrych cycled his rifle, dropping the power pack out of its socket. That was his last round. Though it was an incredibly pleasing shot, he wished he had brought along more ammunition. Huldrych set his rifle gently beside him and drew his holdout blaster. Sitting idly with his back against the wall of the roof, facing the door, Huldrych waited for his pursuers to break through. He wondered if the others would be smart enough to use his suggested exit. You never knew with fleshies.

A gentle whine began to grow in the distance, barely detectable to Huldrych's audio receptors. Turning and peeking over the wall, a small shape began to grow in the distant sky with alarming speed. Swallowing dryly (wait... droids do not swallow...)... Facilitating oral lubrication, Huldrych aimed with his diminutive blaster. The razor bugs had ceased to rain upon him as the ship approached. There was little else to do. No way off the roof that wasn't full of Vong.

The aliens on the ground watched with appreciation as their pilots expertly maneuvered their transport into place and opened up with laser canons blaring. The only answer from the roof was the intermittent staccato of a tiny weapon, no chance of penetrating the durasteel hull of the transport. The response, however, died out after only a few seconds and the roof was a smoldering pit of quiet...

***

Haagul motioned for his squad to proceed cautiously. Word had come through their villip that the threat on the roof had been eliminated. However, a counterattack could come at any time and losing a squad on one's first assignment was a bad way to advance. The small squad took cover as a living charge blew open the door to the roof.

Moving with expert precision, the Vong stormed through the door, amphistaves drawn in various positions. At the 'all clear' signal, Haagul and his assistant strode onto the roof. A smile spread across his tattered, shredded lips as what was left of the sniper lay in one of the craters the transport had left on the roof. Or rather several craters. In fact, Haagul was amazed he was still able to draw breath. He had lost two of his appendages and a good portion of his left shoulder.

One of his warriors drew his staff to execute the infidel, however Haagul raised his arm and stopped him. "Let him bleed just as he let our warriors. He won't last long. Take your trophies and reassemble with the rest."

Several of the Vong picked up bits of skin and flesh scattered about the rooftop. The most senior members of the squad argued over who would receive the larger pieces of limb.

Just as they had finished their task, a loud explosion for down below stopped them all in their tracks. Looking to their squad leader, they all broke into a run in unison, heading back for the street level...

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(BTW/OOC... that explosion is, hopefully, a result of you guys exiting... please use my post :))

Hades

28-02-2008 01:35:58

Not this crap again.

Apollo really hated the Vong. Even more so when they outnumbered him. He had already dealt with quite the number of them a week or so prior and nearly lost his life. Now, it looked like he was in the same situation. Not to mention he was carrying a wounded Tarenti while trying to escape made the mess that much more difficult. But then again, that's what grenades were for. Realizing that his group needed time to escape Apollo quickly found the grenades on his utility belt. He quickly tossed a light pulse grenade, aka flash-bang, in front of the advancing enemy. Watching Dralin and Ronovi dive to the floor and cover thier eyes and ears, he followed suit. The deafening roar and the blinding light was intense. The Vong were caught off guard by the infidel's abomination. Having that brief extra second of time made it easier to launch his remaining flash-bang and his two thermal detonators at and into the massed enemy who are currently seeking their ultimate destruction.

His muscles groaning in protest, the Archpriest quickly grabbed Doni with his right arm and propelled the two of them, with the aid of the Force, into the corridor just outside. Seeing the rest of his clansmen do the same with Dralin and Ronovi barely making it around the near corner before the thermal detonators (or Tiny Balls of Death as he likes to call them) exploded into a brilliant sea of red and white. The large fireball singing the back of Dralin's head and Apollo's own left arm as the two protected their wounded comrades. It was the second time in as many weeks as Dralin smelled his own flesh burn. The curse under his breath was evident enough of his great displeasure.

The men and women of Tarentum knew that time, what precious little of it was left, was not on their side. Knowing the Vong would be on them in mere seconds, they had to make their escape. Apollo lifted the limp Doni Tzu onto his back and began to run towards the only piece of good information they had so far. The suggested point of exit of the maintenance bay was not far off. Just one hundred meters away down the access tunnel they were not sprinting down. Apollo heard the screams and various other horrific sounds echoing behind him. The Vong were giving chase.

Turning his head to Anshar he gestured behind us. "Time to use some of that Jedi Master crap and get us the hell out of here." he grinned. Hopefully, they weren't running to their deaths, but away from them. But in the fluid field of battle, there was one constant truth... There were none.

As the group rounded the last corner Anshar quickly shut the blast door behind them. Dranik, already knowing what his master needed of him, was quickly maneuvering a large speeder in front of the door, blocking any hope the Vong had on pursuit. Seeing as the immediate threat was abated, the Tarenti took stock of their surroundings.... and suddenly found five Vong warriors at the far end of the bay.

Moving into a battle position with the speed of trained killers, the warriors lunged at the new threat. Anshar and Dranik were already moving to attack. Lowering Doni Tzu beside Ronovi, Apollo also rose to meet the oncoming attackers as the rest of the Tarenti poured an increasing amount of fire into the Vong. Dranik and Apollo both attacked an individual warrior as Anshar engaged two at once as the fifth warrior became the focus of the strike team's overwhelming firepower.

Obviously a rear guard detachment, Vong certainly didn't back down from a fight. Their ferocious Ampistaffs cracked as they impacted duracrete and the air was pulsing with the sound of thud bugs being slung at their intended targets. The Tarenti were quick to act in response. Calling on the dark side of the Force to fill their bodies with that much needed strength and power, Dranik and Apollo were fiercely battling their counterparts. Their lightsabers struck hard and fast. The pure hatred within them seemed to be driving their enemies further and further back.

Anshar was the first to slay one of his foe as the head of his victim lay several feet away from it's former body. Apollo was next to follow suit. With his opponent disarmed, he wrenched the warriors left arm over into an unnatural position before thrusting his lightsaber deep into his armpit, the tip of his blade exiting the far side of the Vong's neck. As Apollo moved to aid Dranik he seen the lifeless body fall from the Prelate's hands, it's neck broken with a sickning gurgle only a Dark Jedi can appreciate. Anshar's remaining enemy fell soon after with the fifth warrior's body lay smoking from the many blaster wounds suffered around the neck and face area. No one can say Tarenti were bad shots after this day.

Anshar lifted his comm to his lips, "Huldrych, report!"

An explosion was heard outside as the entire bay shook with the shockwave.

Gritting his teeth silently to himself, he repeated.. "Huldrych, Give me your status!" The comm crackled for a moment then went dead. The fate of their clansman was unknowingly hanging in the balance. Only decisive action could save him, and the rest of them, from a short but painful life.

Raiju

28-02-2008 11:02:05

The Consul’s words seemed only to reach static. Huldrych has failed to respond to any attempts Anshar made, and as the entire Tarenti group looked onto the Consul for guidance; each knew that the same train of thought was going through their minds. Should they leave the journeyman? Any Tarenti would be willing to give their life for the clan and its members, especially to save a fallen Elder and the reigning Consul. But could they make that decision for him?

Raiju was unsure, but he did know that explosion wasn’t to go ignore. Temporarily leaving the group to its wonder, the Ryn bolted towards the entrance to the maintenance bay and fell into the shadow of its inside right corner. Peeking down the street most visible to him, there were civilians running everywhere from the Hutt’s compound. While at the front of the hideout that sat on the main strip there was the welcoming bar and the eateries that surrounded it, the back of the compound where the maintenance bay stood there was nothing but dingy apartment complexes. Peeking down the other side of the street that came to an intersection with the side street that housed the building Huldrych was in, Raiju saw a battered patrol car come flying down the street Huldrych was on and crashed into a pole marking the intersection. Already in flames, the impact of the crash must have crush the gas tank or the lines that ran from it, fore the vehicle exploded immediately crashing a familiar sound wave as weaponry in the vehicle exploded with it.

Throwing himself back into the maintenance bay to avoid the threat of flying shrapnel, Raiju stood up to find the group staring at him from across the bay.

“The local authorities are here!” He yelled across as he ran back to the group, “Apparently they aren’t equipped to deal with this kind of disturbance. I think a couple of us can make it to Huldrych from the second side street down while the police distract the Vong and the rest get the injured to the transport and prepare it for lift off.”

A quick nod from Anshar acknowledged the Ryn’s idea, and quickly the Consul broke the group up. Sending both Dranik and Apollo to lead and protect the other journeymen who carried the injured, Anshar grabbed Raiju and demanded the Ryn to show him how he thought they could get to Huldrych. As a group, all the Tarenti moved to the entrance of the bay and broke off; Apollo and Dranik leading the others down the street with the panicked crowd and Anshar and Raiju slowly moving up to the corner for the intersection. As Anshar peered down the side street from the corner of the compound, and held the Ryn back by pushing the man in his chest.

“Wait…” The Elder said, “Okay, the Vong are currently assaulting another detachment that has shown up. On my mark, you follow my lead and we run straight across the intersection and down to the next. Try to use the force to keep up.”

The Ryn had to smirk at this, Raiju was quick. Very quick, which helped to balance out the issues he had about anticipating attacks. While he was sure the Elder could better persuade the force to increase his own speed, Raiju was sure that even with his lack of ability in comparison they would be quite balanced. At the wave of the Elder’s hand, it was a chance to see. Pushing off from his left heel, the Ryn felt an extra spring in his step as he and the Elder rushed passed the open intersection and down their street away from the action, though the Elder pulled out in front Raiju noticed that he only fell a few steps behind as they neared the second intersection. Slowing to a stop at the raised hand of Anshar, the pair looked down the street of the next intersection and took notice of the buildings to the rear of the one Huldrych was in. Despite all the action on the street next to them, this one had little activity to it as many of the people had cleared out after the sign of the Vong disturbance.

“There,” Raiju said as he pointed to a building sitting at even height with the one Huldrych was on. “That’s the one that’s straight behind Huldrych.”

“Thanks, tips.” Anshar snorted. “Like the smoking crater on top of the building next to it wasn’t enough for me to figure it out.”

“Well, you asked me to show you.” The Ryn replied as the two trotted up the street towards the building. Though the front of the building was locked, the pair wasted no time getting in as Anshar slashed the a opening into the door with his lightsaber. Moving to the stairwell, the pair quickly climbed the building’s structure and emerged on the rooftop in moments. Cautiously stepping out onto the rooftop, the two ran hunched over towards the roof’s edge and squatted behind the built up ledging. Peering over, the two spotted the hurt journeyman lying against the remaining ledge of his building.

“Is he even alive?” Raiju asked, looking to the Elder for the answer.

“If he is, its just barely. Only one way to find out.” The Elder said as he backed away from the ledge and then rushed towards it again leaping onto it with both feet before he launched himself across the small distance that separated the building.

Raiju watched as the Elder landed with perfect grace and moved over to the injured journeymen. Fearful of alerting the Vong below of their presence, Anshar gave a thumbs up stating that Huldrych was still alive. For a few moments the Elder just remained with his hands on the journeyman’s body, leaving Raiju to ponder what the hell he was doing and if the Ryn should try to leap across the distance too. After a short moment though, the Elder stood with man thrown over his shoulder and moved to jump back to where the Ryn stood.

This time the landing was aweful. Whether the weight of Huldrych was too much to handle or Anshar just lost his balance, Raiju didn’t know but both fell to the ground of the rooftop as Anshar stumbled. Running over to help, Raiju felt wondered about what this might have done to their hurt clansmate.

“Don’t worry, I’ve placed his mind in a state of rest and his body under a trance to control the bleeding and numb the feeling around his wounds.” The Elder stated sensing Raiju’s worry, throwing the man back over his shoulder Anshar nodded to the Ryn. “ Back to the ship, lead the way.”

Dralin

29-02-2008 03:32:27

With the absence of Anshar and Raiju, Dranik took the lead. Moving amongst the broken rubble and terrified civilians, the Tarenti covered the terrain as quickly as they could with two injured members, their pace slow but steady.

"When we get back to Sword's Sheath," Dralin began, grunting somewhat under the effort of helping the much-less-frail Epicanthix, "I'm going to make sure you either stop making stupid decisions or lose some muscle mass."

Ronovi could only start to get a word out before the pain in her jaw stopped her from replying.

Using the Force to subtly move the panicking civilians out of the way, Dranik made sure a clear path stayed open for the small group, trying to make the relocation as painless as possible. Once the Tarenti made it to the ship, Dranik extended the ramp, allowing Dralin and Apollo to help Ronovi and Doni Tzu aboard. Just as Dranik was about to climb aboard as well, he spotted Anshar and Raiju in the distance, Anshar carrying what appeared to be what was left of Huldrych. Mentally urging his master on, Dranik waited for the remaining Tarenti as Apollo started the freighter.

"Come on guys! Freighter's leaving!" Apollo shouted from inside, impatient to leave, especially as the citizens began taking notice of them and their transport. Moving as fast as they could, Anshar and Raiju made it to the transport, Dranik leading them up the ramp, which Apollo began closing as soon as they made it up the ramp a ways. Apollo barely gave the three Tarenti time to get situated before taking off.

Anshar

01-03-2008 12:21:34

If vengeful Hutt lackeys or fanatical Vong were lurking anywhere, they made no move to stop the freighter carrying twenty or so Force users. With Deutta killed, and the Vong infected and cut off from their brethren, Anshar felt that he could breathe a sigh of relief. Truth be told, the Hutt had never given him much worry, once he had been revealed as being behind the troubles in the Yridia system. The Vong, on the other hand, would have been far more troubling, but Doni had seen to that.

Anshar’s eyes drifted to the Adept. He had thrown himself towards death in service to the clan, and he had done more damage to the enemy than the whole clan might have been able to. Now the clan would do all in its power to help him heal from his wounds. It was the best they could do for him.

To be sure, the clan’s military would remain on high alert, watching for any signs of the alien invaders, but something told Anshar that the clan was safe. It was time for the clan to drift back into the shadows: to heal, to learn, and to grow stronger. The time would be coming when the Grandmaster would call for the Brotherhood to assemble again and to drive the invaders from Antei. And Tarentum would have its role to play then.

Anshar looked around at the clan members piled into the freighter, and he could not help but smile ever so slightly. They had all proven themselves capable of being part of a team, and doing what needed to be done, and not always what they felt needed to be done. It was a good start and Anshar could see the clan growing even stronger with each of them helping in their own way. Current and future leaders alike occupied the freighter that hurtled through hyperspace.

“Excuse me, Consul,” said Apollo through the comm, “we’re receiving a transmission from the Arcanum for you.” Anshar rose from his seat and went to the bridge. Entering the acceptance code, Anshar read the message.

“Apollo, alter course to these coordinates,” said Anshar. “The Headmaster has some new recruits for us. We might as well pick them up while we’re out here.” Apollo acknowledged and set about doing what he was instructed. New recruits were the lifeblood of all clans, even if only a small number ever made it very far. But, Tarentum would welcome these new brothers and sisters into the home that was the clan and make use of them. At least, Anshar noted, it was a home that was now settled.