[Divergence] Repossession Run-On

This thread will contain our run-on. While there are some goals for the story itself, it will ultimately go where the house leads it. Please read the following general rules (first post will follow)

General Run-on Rules

1. You might be a Dark Jedi. You might even have your lightsaber. But you are not a god (or goddess). Even Elders are not gods, but they can certainly do a whole lot more than any Equite or Journeyman. In short, godmoding is strictly prohibited and can result in your post being deleted or even death (see rule#2).

2. You are mortal. Death is a viable option for your character. Yeah, you’ve got the Force, but that didn’t really help Qui-Gonn, Darth Maul, Obi-wan, Palpatine, Order 66 casualties, or any other Force user who met an early end, now did it? You put yourself in a hole and you might just end up staying there.

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5. Following rule #4, never kill another member character without their permission. In the event of serious injury, let the other member character either tell you what to do, or let them write it themselves.

6. What happens in this run-on is permanent for your character. Whether you lose an arm, adopt a herd of banthas, or anything in between, you’re stuck with it and must deal with it.

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Anshar sat in the marginally comfortable chair in the briefing room of Castle Tarentum. Oberst, Marshal of Tarentum’s Armies, sat in another chair. The poor commander giving the briefing did not know which glare would kill him first, though an obvious choice would have been the Marshal. Oberst had a penchant for shooting the messenger.

“And so, in conclusion, the pirates appear to be originating from the Itanna Belt,” finished the commander. “Since we only know of one location within the asteroid field that can support space craft, we have concluded that the Sword’s Sheath has become the pirate base.” There was a moment of silence before Oberst spoke.

“Well done, Commander,” said Oberst. “You are dismissed.” Keeping his sigh of relief to himself, the commander saluted and exited the room, leaving Anshar and Oberst alone.

“Your thoughts?” asked Anshar.

“We let our guard down,” stated Oberst bluntly. “We got too wrapped up in fighting the Dark Council’s battles that we find ourselves betrayed. As for this particular issue, I think the conclusion is solid. It fits quite nicely with the information from Strobe’s investigation, not to mention Craft’s betrayal.”

“Speaking of Craft, what has become of our esteemed ex-captain?” asked Anshar.

“He has been dealt with,” replied Oberst.

“That only leaves the question of who is supporting these pirates,” said Anshar. “They seem too well coordinated, and we know they have inside contacts. My money would be on Infinite.”

“As would mine,” said Oberst. “Still, our first priority should be to get rid of these pirates. We have enough information on Infinite to take them down at any time.”

“So, then,” said Anshar, rising from his chair. “Back to the Sword’s Sheath, it is.” As Anshar turned to leave, the commander who had given the briefing re-entered the room.

“Excuse me, sir, but there’s been an incident,” he said.

“What kind of ‘incident?’” asked Anshar.

“Some sort of attack on the Corsair,” replied the commander. “We’re awaiting a final status report, but the nearest vessel is the Doomsday.”

“Get a final status report,” ordered Anshar. “Oberst, assemble what you need to retake the Sword’s Sheath, including any house members. I will personally be present. Oh, and I will issue an order locking down all Infinite Shipping operations for the time being.” Oberst simply nodded.

* * *
It was amazing how fast the military could respond to its orders, but that was a testament to Oberst’s overall running of the fleet. Non-military Tarenti had also responded to the call quickly, assembling on the ISD Magnus Kaerner, though they were clear to remain out of the way of the ship’s operations. Even Anshar did not intervene in the running of the ship.
Off the port flank, the BCR Requiem was prepared to enter the battle. There was enough fighters and enough firepower to handle just about anything. The pirates would be wiped out.

Dranik paced back and forth across the CIC of the Corsair, he was getting more annoyed by the moment and even the crew had started to avoid him. It had been some time now since he had sent out for the Doomsday to join them and there had been no word back. A few more moments passed before Commander Cadran’s voice rang out.

“Contact coming out of hyperspace!”

Dranik wheeled about to face the holo map as it started to update with information. “All gunners stand by and acquire target.” Dranik ordered, not wanting to be caught off guard by the pirates a second time. The display slowly changed to show a yellow ship colored ship marking it as a Bothan-class Assault Cruiser.

Dranik took a deep breath as he waited but the display did not update the information at all. “Is that ship not broadcasting an ident code?! Someone get on the comm and find out if that ship is friend or foe!” Dranik ordered as he waited, almost expecting the ship to shake from the blast of something striking her yet nothing happened.

Ten minutes went by before two officers walked onto the CIC of the Corsair, one was a security officer and the other was Commander Jason Hunter, captain of the Doomsday. Dranik blinked a few times as he looked at Jason before speaking. “What the hell are you doing on my ship and why is the Doomsday not broadcasting her Indent code?!”

Jason laughed quietly as he walked over to Dranik. “We are, we have been trying to respond to your request but your comms must be down, maybe other systems too. We could hear you just fine but you apparently could not hear us. Anyways, Dranik we have order from the Quaestor and the Marshal. WE are to report to the Magnus Kaerner.”

Dranik thought about this for a moment and then nodded. “The Doomsday is to hold station hear and have her fighters run CAP over the shipping lanes just in case, if the MK is headed to where I think it is, then the Doomsday will be close enough to assist should it ever be needed. The Corsair however needs to return to the repair yard apparently.”

Dranik started to walk towards the door as he called out over his shoulder. Ailsa you’re in charge, Commander Alexis, you’re with us.”

The three left the bridge and went to the shuttle Jason had used to get there to make their way over to the Magnus Kaerner.

***

Dranik, Jason, and Kira disembarked from their shuttle and made their way to the CIC of the Magnus Kaerner. Dranik had gone over the broadcasts and had used the Shuttles communication systems to get in touch with Anshar and figure out what was happening. Dranik was pleasantly surprised as he saw quite a few of his fellow house members in the halls of the ship, most of them were readying themselves for what was to come.

The three walked onto the CIC and over to where Oberst and Anshar were standing along with Captain Scion and Apollo, the captain of the Magnus Kaerner and his XO respectively. Commander Tor’Fel Hazzan, the Acting Commander Air Group was also present.

“Sit rep?” Dranik asked almost as soon as he arrived.

Anshar looked over to Dranik and spoke “We are just getting ready to make the short jump over to the Sword’s Sheath. The last of the shuttles are expected to arrive in a few moments. Commander Hazzan has ordered Specter Squadron from the platform to join us to help make up for some of the fighters we lost earlier.”

Hazzan spoke up, adding in. “We have the fighters for this, but we are short pilots at the moment. Since some were lost or injured in their last engagement.”

Dranik nodded “Then put out a request among the Tarenti for anyone with piloting experience to meet in the Flight briefing room.”

Jason didn't really care for leaving the Doomsday behind. She was his command, after all. If anything were to happen to those shipping lanes in his absence, he should be there to oversee the response. He knew that she was left in capable hands, though; the Executive Officer was a highly skilled commander in his own right, even if Jason didn't know him well yet. Amidst all the time spent training the ship's personnel, there hadn't been enough opportunity to come to know his XO on a personal basis.

Professionally, yes, he was knowledgeable about the man. He had come highly recommended by the military powers-that-be with Tarentum, the file sent to Jason's quarter's a few weeks before he moved aboard the Doomsday. He carefully selected all the officers that would directly serve with him, so that he knew the ship would operate safely and smoothly in his absence. He never would be able to tell what other duties would fall upon him as a Dark Jedi within House Tarentum.

As it was, he was currently following his Aedile, Dranik, and one his officers from the Corsair down one of the hallways of the Magnus Kaerner. It had been many years since Jason had set foot aboard a Star Destroyer, and he still knew exactly how to navigate the gargantuan structure. Well, about ninety-eight percent of the ship, anyhow. The one part of the Imperial Star Destroyer, of any design or designation, that he had never set foot upon, was the bridge. And that was exactly where the three of them were stepping off the turbolift and onto right then.

It was much larger than he had imagined it would be. The rows of bridge crew at their stations in their pits working tirelessly at their assigned task, higher-ranking officers strolling along the walkway above as overlords of efficiency....very Imperial.

It took him a moment to realize he had fallen behind the group. He took a few quick, long strides to catch up just as Dranik and Commander Alexis entered the CIC. "Sit rep," Jason heard the Aedile say as he entered the chamber a step or two behind.

Holy kriff, Dranik, he thought to himself, taking up a position towards the outside of the assembled group. Way to be demanding.

Jason stood in his spot at the edge listening to Anshar's report. He might have stood closer and actively joined the conversation, if he wasn't the junior officer of the group. As it was, his ship was third of the line. So, he figured that standing off to the side was a good idea. Then Dranik mentioned sending out a request for pilots.

"If we need pilots, you've got one right here," Jason chimed in, raising a mechanical finger. After their little run-in with the Tarcotak, he had replaced his prosthetic arm, but not the synthflesh. He wasn't sure he ever would. "And if we're going to be retaking the Sheath, you know for damn sure I'm on a boarding party, too."

Jock staggered out of shuttle before stumbling over an indention in the landing ramp and falling on his face. He was nauseated by the hyperspace jump on the shuttle. Groaning from his faceplant, he quickly appreciated his platoon sergeant pulling him off of the deck and supporting him away from the shuttle as the deckcrew snickered all around him. "Sir, we need to get you looked over. Its not good for the unit's morale to see their commander beat up."

Jock nodded and looked at his platoon sergeant and down at the man's vomit-filled combat helmet. "First, thanks for the... assist. I appreciate it. Second, Ive been to the medics. Its a weird case of space sickness. I dont do well in shuttles in hyperspace. And believe me, Ive tried the entire gauntlet of drugs. They just dont work for me. The physician thinks that my head's a little sensitive."

SSgt. Greer muttered, "Dont mention it," as Jock apologized for the mess in the sergeants helmet. He could always get a new one in supply. It was nice to be back on the Magnus Kaerner. His first assignment out of training had been as a EOD tech on the mighty MK. It brought back alot of memories, both good and bad. Ultimately, he transfered to the Army because he had gotten tired of ship life. He had desired fresh air, not the filtered artificial stuff and days determined by the cycle of the sun. But he wasnt sure about the Jedi. The kid wasnt suited for the Army. But as long as Wade Greer was the Platoon Sergeant, he was going to do his best to season Jock as a leader. But for now, he was more concerned about getting Jock to a refresher. It would do the unit no good to see their commander like this.

Anshar simply remained out of the way of the military functions of the ship. True, as Quaestor he was technically the commander in chief. But, Anshar was not a military man. He had had his fair dealings with the military, and had certainly worked with the military on numerous occasions, but he was still much more similar to a mercenary than a soldier. The plan was simple enough: jump in on the Sword’s Sheath, eliminate any defenses, and then take the base back. Hopefully they would find greater information on the pirates strength and backing. There was no real indication of the strength of the group, but so far there had been no indications that they were any different than other pirates.

Well, that was no entirely true. They did seem to be better funded and better equipped, but the ever growing ties to the Infinite Shipping Corporation proved that. Anshar could only smirk to himself, careful not to betray anything, even to his closest companions. Who know if there were other traitors, like Craft. He would bring Infinite down and he would ensure that they were completely destroyed. Already Strobe and Company and other companies were filing lawsuits. While perhaps legitimate suits, Anshar cared little for their outcome. They only served as one form of attack upon Infinite. Pure military force would be another matter.

“Sir,” called out the chief navigator. “We are prepared to make the jump. Requiem reports ready as well.”

“Acknowledged,” replied Scion, captain of the Magnus Kaerner. Scion looked over to Oberst who simply nodded. “On my mark. . .”

* * *

“I’m telling you, they’re onto us,” hissed Tylon Xertia, CEO of Infinite Shipping Corporation. “You let that damn fool get to aggressive, to independent. He wants to replace you.”

“I am well aware of that,” said Dav Gorta. “And I have planned for that. I need only from you one more favor and I will handle the rest.”

“Ah, yes, the great pirate leader needs another favor,” replied Tylon. He then sighed. “What do you need?”

“A ship,” replied Gorta. “One that can hold fighters.” Tylon simply scowled.

"Mark."

The stars outside the windows leapt from their positions, and the entire mass of the Magnus Kaerner shuddered briefly as it erupted into hyperspace for just a moment. When the stars returned to their ordinary positions, they were accompanied by a field of massive asteroids spinning lazily in space. The ship had ducked out of hyperspace as close as anyone would have dared to get to the field in such a massive ship. The former Gladian Quaestor had called the Sword's Sheath his home for quite some time, and it was obvious to each of the visitors that the bridge crew of the MK had run this specific drill often. Jason thought he caught a particularly cold gleam in the old Captain's eye as the ship settled back into normal space.

"One quarter speed, gentlemen. You know the way."

Scion's voice was like cold smooth stone, but his right hand clenched and unclenched as his ship ventured into the asteroids. Fury boiled just beneath the icy veneer, and the other Force-sensitive occupants of the CIC could feel it too. Some shared the sentiment, while others were wrapped up in their own anticipation of the coming conflict.

Outside, the Requiem took up a position behind the Magnus Kaerner, following her into the treacherous asteroid field. A path large enough to accomodate the MK through to the base had been cleared since before Scion had joined the Brotherhood, but the route occasionally shifted as the gravity wells of the more massive asteroids interacted with one another. Navigating safely through to the asteroid base was a task that was best accomplished through a careful combination of intensive training, an experienced Force-sensitive navigator, and a little raw firepower. From time to time the ship's turbolasers would lash out to vaporize some wayward debris that had drifted into the way.

A hushed silence had fallen over the CIC as the masssive rocks glided past the windows. Hazzan's voice was the first to break it after several moments had passed.

"Have Infiltrator Squadron scout the route ahead. Report any enemy activity, but do not engage until I give the order. All other squadrons on standby. And if any Tarenti Foxtrot Uniforms want to fly, find them an empty cockpit and get them strapped in."

Scion's gaze was fixed out the window at a tiny black speck on a black background covered in giant black rocks. Apollo glanced at him, then out at the same speck.

"Yup, there it is," said Apollo. "Never thought I'd be the one attacking it. This is going to be one hell of a fight."

"I hope we brought enough ships."

Apollo shook his head and turned toward Scion, his oldest friend and former AED.

"Well, better get this over with." Apollo then turned towards the rest of the assembled group.

"While most of you have been on the Sword's Sheath numerous times, not many of you have called it home for as long as either I or even Scion have. We know it better than anyone. Once we establish space superiority we need to find any old Gladius members or other Terenti that served on this lovely rock. Each member should be able to navigate the halls and inform anyone of all the nooks and crannies this baby has. Now, " Apollo turned and motioned to the map at the rear of the CIC.

"As you know the Sword's Sheath has a main hanger bay and a secondary baby just under and to the port side. It's half the size but can still accomidate two shuttles without a problem. At least it should if it's not full of other ships or who knows what else. But aside from that are two lesser known entries." Apollo zoomed the map in to the rear side of the asteroid base and pointed a finger at a small blinking retangular light.

"This is the main cargo bay. It is also accesable from space-side. Which gives us another entry point. The last, but not least, is where I think two former Gladius members who have intracate knowledge of the base should gain entry." Scion looked puzzled, counting in his head anything he had missed in the years since. Anshar too, was at a loss. Apollo zoomed in the very 'bottom' of the asteroid.

"Here gents, is where we had two escape pods. One of which was used before. The Escape pod was a standard Class-6 from CEC used on most Corvettes. If we could get our hands on one, or even one close enough to the design, a small group can guide it under power to that open port and basicly flank the enemy." the XO of the MK turned to look at gathered Tarenti.

"This gives us double the obvious modes of entry. We should plan an assalt for all four. We could have a strike team ofr all or use one as a diversion. That kinda crap is your call, Anshar. But we're here and we need to figure this out quick, fast, and in an hurry. We're sitting out here with our pants down until then. What do you think?"

“Tarentum ships!” hissed the Trandoshan. “We must contact Gorta!”

“No!” instructed Eram Roth, the thin, wiry lieutenant of the pirates, and would be captain. “Release Shadow flight and have them circle around behind that Star Destroyer. In the meantime, establish a communication link with them.” The Trandoshan scowled, or at least made some sort of face. Eram only assumed that it was their version of a scowl. He did not care; they would buy enough time for him to escape with the only valuable information on this rock. None of the ships or the loot from the captured vessels was as valuable as the data disc in his shirt pocket.

“Link established.” Eram looked up and found himself looking a presumably human male with solid blue eyes.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” said Eram. “What can I do for you today?”

“Surrender,” came the terse reply. “Do not launch any fighters, have your men lay down your weapons, and prepare to be boarded.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” replied Eram slyly. “Perhaps-”

“Perhaps nothing,” replied the man. “I have no patience for you or your men. You have had your chance.” With that, the communication link was gone.

“Now what?” asked the Trandoshan.

“Is Shadow flight in place?” asked Eram.

“Yes,” replied the Trandoshan. “Other fighters are also ready.”

“Very well, launch remaining fighters and prepare for battle!” Silently to himself, Eram wished they had figured out how to work the external batteries on this rock. He could use the extra space to cover his own escape.

* * *
“To answer your question, Apollo,” said Anshar, “We need to do whatever will gain us the quickest control of the facility. I want any records they have captured, so we cannot give them any chance to destroy them.”

“If they’re like normal pirates, they’ll wait until the last minute, hoping that their fighters can drive us off,” commented Scion. “Of course, we need to watch for escaping transports.”

“Sir, final analysis of the Sword’s Sheath,” reported one of the bridge officers. “There’s no evidence of power to external defenses.”

“They’re launching fighters,” called out the sensor technician. “At least fifteen signatures, ID’d as B-wings and A-wings.” The tech paused.

“Is there something else?” asked Apollo.

“Hard to say, sir,” replied the tech. “There was a brief flicker, but it disappeared.”

“Have all stations re-scan the area, look for anything abnormal,” ordered Scion. “Launch fighters and eliminate these scum.”

“In the meantime, gentlemen,” said Anshar, “I will be joining the assault team.”