Balmorra Training Simulation He had played his part and there seemed to be little else that he could do at the moment. Layor's flash grenade had helped to drive the Rebels back, allowing his comrades to press forward with renewed attack. Rhys Varn led the attack with a grenade of his own, taking advantage of the Rebels' momentary lack of clear vision. Before Layor could move in to provide backup, Dasnei stepped into the corridor, alongside Varn. Together, they opened fire upon the Rebels. Draug Layor almost smiled to himself. There was little chance that the Rebels would survive the attack. At the very least, he expected them both to be seriously injured. Unfortunately, Layor could do little to help. If he joined the firefight he'd simply be wasting his blaster's power pack. There was little more that he would be able to do anyway. Instead, he chose to remain in the corridor and head back around the lab's other side. He stopped in mid-motion. There was a chance that, if they were smart enough, the Rebels would retreat and come in behind Varn and Dasnei. Layor decided to do that very thing himself, and if the Rebels had the same thing in mind then he'd be ready for them. He crouched as low as he could while moving at a fast pace, back and around the lab so that he came out behind the enemy. He pulled out his frag with one hand and held his rifle in the other as he approached ... By the time Layor stepped out onto the walkway behind the rebel's last position, Varn and Dasnei combined blaster fire had finished the two men. Both bodies had several scores of blaster fire and the one rebel wore the face of their instructor. The three stormtroopers finished exploring the building and found nothing more than dead bodies of rebels and one unlucky stormtrooper on the third level. The simulation soon ended and the three cadets were praised for their teamwork and given their final exam.
Escort & Defend Simulation Depressing the trigger, Leran sent lances of energy shooting towards the Y-wing, hoping to strafe the aging fighter along the top, then swing around for another pass to finish her off. Emerald energy splashed against the aging starfighter's shields and the Y-wing attempted several evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit. The rebel's shields soon collapsed and immediately after the craft lost its starboard engine and the port engine broke off to spin out of control into space. The Y-wing exploded in a bright blaze. And soon replaced by another wave of four Y-wings from the frigate. The two Z-95s caught up with Leran and lashed out with crimson fire, splashing against the Gunboats shields hard and quickly draining them. Upon looking at the sensors, the Headhunters had attacked from two different directions from above, placing Leran in a crossfire. Over the comm: "Second freighter away. Moving into position to jump."
Starfighter Dogfight Simulation Elets drew the Y-Wing in as close as he could, it was time to make his move. He punched the throttle as far as it could go, and dove underneath the Y-Wing. If Elets timed the maneuver correctly he would loop up directly on the Y-Wing’s tail. The TIE Starfighter shot past the Y-wing and the rebel pilot let loose a volley of laser fire before banking hard to the right to loop around and meet the Starfighter on its starboard side the moment he finished his loop. The Y-wing opened up again with its weapons.
His first speech on Brentaal and it had been that. He would have to make up for it. And quickly. A decisive move was now necessary. Cransin left the balcony and proceeded via hover-car to the government sector of the capital. It was there he would find what he wanted. But first, he established his offices in the planetary government building. It was now the Residence of the Moff. Nothing terribly fancy, but certainly succinct. Cransin stopped off to replace his senatorial robes, of which he’d not changed out of in days, and donned his formal Moff’s uniform. Gray and of Imperial cut. The uniform seemed much more military than he cared for. That would be a problem. Something to address later. “Lieutenant,” Cransin called to his new aide, “Contact the five heads of Brentaal’s major corporations. They’ve been officially summoned by the Moff.” “Yes, sir.” It was going to be a long day. Very long. Wilhad was barely in his uniform and he would be changing a huge facet of Brentaal. The mega-firms. For years they had dominated Brentaal, now, the Empire would use them to dominate Brentaal. And that was only the beginning. Cransin had many ideas in his mind and they were starting to form a cohesive, strategic plan. “Sir, the holo-projector you requested,” a low-level secretary said, placing a small device on Cransin’s desk. A moment later, a crystal-clear three-dimensional image of his family appeared before him. His wife and children: his second loves. All smiles. As it should be. Wilhad stared at the image for a time. Especially at his son and daughter. Children were rare on Chandrilla. The reason why the populations almost never breeched one and a half billion were the low birth rates. One child was wonderful. Two was a gift. Cransin had two gifts. The image flickered and changed to a view of Chandrilla from space: his first love. Chandrilla came before everyone. That’s what Wilhad always told himself. “Yes. She’s the most important woman in my life,” Cransin said, not all that reassured. Wilhad becoming a Moff was good for Chandrilla. He’d be able to help the planet. Elevate her higher and higher, where she should be. Yes, that was it. That was why he was on Brentaal. For Chandilla. And his family. He’d be back home soon. TAG: LSA
Starfighter Docks, SSD Knight Hammer - Imperial Center Clang! Several curses floated up from the ion engine of the TIE Defender and the owner of the expliciate phrases appeared rubbing the top of his head and holding a hydrospanner in another hand. "Stupid machine." Striker scolded the inanimate vessel. "Having problems with your TIE, Captain?" A female Chiss asked from the walkway to his left. She wore the black uniform of an Imperial pilot with the green piping along the shoulders and down the arm, identical to Striker's uniform. "Yeah. It's fighting the improvments I'm trying to give it." He jested and tossed the hydrospanner into the toolbox and wiping his hands clean of most of the grease. The ace pilot climbed the ladder to the walkway and joined Shawnkyr. "I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion." She said once he had joined her on the walkway. "You mean re-promotion." Striker leaned against the railing of the walkway and gazed his blue eyes on the female. She was tall, well-fit, and slightly masculine from working out with weights. Shawnkyr probably could pin down and hold a full grown man on her own. The thought and studying his friend almost made Striker want that to happen to him. If Shawnkyr caught his look, she made no indication that she did. Instead she continued the conversation as if he had not looked at her any other way other than as a friend and fellow soldier. "Do you get to keep it this time or will someone else make you a Wing Commander again?" "It's permenant this time. Though I would have prefered the rank of Major." "Why are we here?" She asked him. "In the Known Galaxy or the Knight Hammer itself?" "Both." "Well for starters you guys followed me back." William answered and shifted his position on the railing so that his back faced his TIE Defender and he stared out at the other rows of Imperial starfighters. "I returned because I thought it could help boost my career. And I thought perhaps upon returning I would be engaged in dogfights against the rebellion. But with the cease-fire, doesn't look like it'll happen any time soon." "You did not hear the latest transmission from Mon Mothma?" "What transmission?" He asked curiously. "Apparently we attacked Brentaal and they are beginning to retaliate. So the cease-fire is off." Shawnkyr answered calmly. "Good."
The trip had been very uneventful, but very quick. Thankfully, both ships reverted to realspace exactly in the same formation as they had left it. This would be a very short stop over, but it was a stopover he had been needing for quite some time. He hadn't seen his cousin and child in far too long, and he had been meaning to check up on them. Flying out from the larg SSD in orbit, the small freightor quickly made its way down to the surface. Giving the planetary defence grid their security codes, the small frieghtor made its way to the imperial palace, to meet up with his little cousin. As the small shuttle landed on the pad, he quickly disembarked, and made his way twards the empress' quarters. What a grand spectacle it would be to see his relatives once again. Quickly walking up to the door, he rang the bell, and waited for someone to let him in.
"Ah Kiera, there is always time to visit family. Plus, this might be the last period of time for quite some time that i would be able to come and visit, i believe the war is on." Stepping into the room, he gave his cousin a very big hug. It had been far too long, he almost had not seen her since the the birth of her child. He could only hope that he would be able to see her again soon. Leaning over, he looked at the little Arya. "Why, havent you gotten big. I just remember when you were just born, and not even crawling."
"Moff Cransin, the men you requested have all arrived." "Excellent, send them into the Conference Room. I’ll be there momentarily.” Wilhad snapped out of his reverie and started tapping keys on his datapad, bring up file after file. After a few minutes, he’d retrieved everything he needed. He stood, straightened his uniform, checked his rank badges and command cylinders, and walked out of his office. It was a good couple hundred meters to the Conference Room. Time enough for Cransin to figure out just how to deal with these men. This would be his first real encounter with anyone on Brentaal of authority. And he was about to strip them of theirs’. The door was now a stone’s throw away. He stepped up to it, sucked in his breath, expelled, and opened it. “Good afternoon gentlemen,” Cransin said, walking toward the head of the round table his guests were seated at. “I do hope you’ve not been too busy, I hate to bother you all simultaneously like this.” Cransin had learned this technique early in his career. He was playing the part of the cow-towing administrator. Not a sycophant, but certainly obsequious. “Now, gentlemen, let me inform you why you are all here. The Empire has reasserted her sovereign control over the planet Brentaal and entrusted me with Brentaal’s successful operation,” Wilhad tapped a few controls on his datapad bring up the financials of the five corporations. Then a new document, charting estimated financials for next year. “As you can see, and know, your businesses are the dominated forces on this planet. I am here to neutralize everyone’s dominance except the Emperor’s. “As of five minutes ago, official documents were sent to your headquarters informing them of a new declaration from the Office of the Moff,” Cransin brought it up for the men. “Your firms have been nationalized by the Empire and are now the primary members of the new Brentaal Economic Initiative Corps, which will formally replace the dissolved Brentaal League of Guilds. You five have one choice to make: stay on as directors of your respective firms under my leadership, or attempt to refute this and suffer the consequences. “Unlike the democratic management of the New Republic, you will not be allowed to discuss this in committee and debate for years over minutiae. You will make your choices now. And if you hold some sort of diluted idea that by ‘consequences’ I mean some kind of sanctions, you are wrong. My authority on Brentaal will be unquestioned.” The Moff pressed a button before him and five Stormtroopers filed into the room, weapons at the ready. TAG: LSA- for the director’s responses
