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Author	Topic: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 5/1 6:02am Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith - Date Edited: 5/1 6:08am (2 edits total) Edited By: Sith-I-5
	IC: Captain Perrinaw, Victory-class Star Destroyer, Wraithis. Location: Waypoint Alpha Dining Room Four, or 'Flagship Holoroom', as the folks off Changing Rooms insisted on calling it, already quite dark apart from the holos, displays and screens, was quiet as the lime beam tapped Huk, and utterly obliterated it. Sitting before a mosaic of holo-screens that showed all of the commanders of Taskforce Scimitar, a row beneath them of internal screens to selected members of his crew, and under a huge screen to the right that had switched from Tarkin’s craggy features to the various views that the Governor had wanted to show them, Perrinaw sat in silence, arms crossed and jaw set. “But we knew all that!” complained the captain of one of the ships in Taskforce Scimitar. Perrinaw hadn’t yet learned his name. “Well I didn’t know we had Planet Defender-class ion cannon,” Perrinaw pointed out, defending the broadcast, “guess that explains all the drilling.” “Captain Perrinaw?” He followed the voice to the image of Iillor, commander of the 418 Immobiliser, Huntress, “ I thank you once again for the opportunity to take part in this historic day. Please know that rather than being banished to the sidelines of the combat theatre, we would welcome the chance to fight alongside you in the heat of battle. We cannot allow there to be another Huk.” He nodded towards his blond counterpart; she had cut her hair since Ursa, and it looked very short and more severe now. Probably the effect of having Lord Vader over for tea, he thought, recalling the Re had visited her ship after the attack on the Emperor’s Hand, Jacen Wayland. “And we won’t. Okay, time to discuss worst case scenarios; eg. what we will be doing if Donnoc’s Law gets invoked during the campaign.” “Donnoc’s Law?” This surprising query was from the captain of the Harsh Times star destroyer, formerly of the Kamino defense fleet. “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” Perrinaw turned to his Analyst, who was standing to his right, between him and the glowing green holographic globe showing the three target systems in 3D. “Sidell, what is first on the 'frag-up file' shortlist?” “Death Star on site.” She glanced at him over her notes, “Seeing as we are expecting the Death Star to be at Kalee, we would have to be incredibly unlucky to find it at Mygeeto.” “Well, if it is there, we better hope their shields are down .” “And what if they are not?” “Monster Squad goes in.” “With respect, sir, Lord Vader’s KIG force are handling that.” Sidell pointed out. “We are not gadding about near a invulnerable version of that thing,” He jabbed a finger at the now frozen holo-representation of the Death Star, “without my best team doing something about it! If the shield is already down, then fine, we send a fruit basket for the commandos, and proceed as ordered.” The Wraithis’ commander craned his neck to look again at Sidell: “Next item?” “Presence of enemy Star Dreadnaught, Captain. Another Ravager, for example.” “In such a case, Scimitar will split down the middle. Captain Scyther Vectis will lead her half against the main fleet, while my half go for the Ravager.will protect the two ships carrying asteroids. Attack patterns Alpha-One, and Beta-Two will see us protecting the Harsh Times and Sokolova, long enough to drop their payloads onto the enemy dreadnaught’s shields. We will follow through with ion cannon, and try to effect a boarding with armour and troops.” “But if that attack fails? Lord Vader’s USF were famously unable to do squat, the first time they encountered a Ravager-class vessel. What do we do then?” “Panic?” Sara Sidell, unbidden, stepped into the scope of Perrinaw’s holographic receiver, the rim of the light circle travelling up her polished black boots, over her knees, and up the tunic dress. “We do have a secondary tactic, commanders. The HIMS Prestige is off collecting what we need to try it. If an initial assault on a star dreadnaught fails, we will join Captain Vectis in attacking the rest of the Separatist ships, and use them to shield us from the dreadnaught’s fire until our star destroyer gets here.” Perrinaw frowned as he searched his memory for what he wanted to ask. “Sara, didn’t you have a third idea while we were on Centerpoint?” “I thought so, but I cannot find it anywhere. I half-suspect I left the notes on the bedside table when we left.” She shrugged. “Oh yes, I remember! Get four of those really huge freight carriers,” her skinny arms swung wide in a vain attempt to convey the size, “lock tractors onto the Ravager and drag it’s choob into the local sun. I would not recommend doing it with Star Destroyers though.” Perrinaw looked back at his taskforce: “We now have to await Tarkin’s jump code.” Tag: Tarkin, Scyther Vectis OOC: LDU, were you saying we could go ahead with the operation, or are we still waiting for Tarkin to yell 'Bundle' down the comlink? -----signature----- "The Doctor likes to insult species when he's stressed. Cuts himself shaving, and its half an hour on lifeforms that he's cleverer than." 007 family - DVC's twin brother. http://www.geocities.com/acenhunter/
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pashatemur Registered: Jun '04	Date Posted: 5/1 10:59am Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith - Date Edited: 5/1 11:58am (9 edits total) Edited By: pashatemur
	IC: Leia LOCATION: her bedroom, Alderaan Of first inclinations, Leia felt the incandescent warmth that came of anticipating the full embrace of her father’s broad arms! She could see it, throwing herself into them and burying her face in his chest, but something kept her - a cold dark knot in the middle of her, a cool tantrum, and a voice that asked angrily, Where were you? She might not have died if you had been here! So she remained cross-legged in the curtain, the dark folds surrounding her, the best embrace she find, one she created for herself, and turned the doll in her hand about unfulfilled. It should have held her interest in the past, but it had not, finding herself far more interested in the goings-on of living things, of people. Now, however, she found it curiously intriguing and in a strange way, a comforting focus while she grappled with the unreality of someone so present and living, warm and loving, now gone! The mind defied the change and often had reconstructed the event, Leia again reliving that long long run across the field to the garden. The past 27 hours, the standard galactic day, were a blur and an eon long. She had been taken after repeated and tearful demands to see her mother’s dead body and she had touched her cold hand and blue lips and proclaimed quietly, “Yes, I understand now. She is dead!” The tears had flowed only in private, and not when others could see, so now she was tired from her solitude and should have been grateful for her father’s return, but for that anger inside her which only reinforced the since that this solitude had long been a part of her. The heavy braids that fell at her back slid over her shoulders and spilled with a soft thud to the floor as she bent her head over the doll and preceded to arrange it in a little silk dress of azure, its chestnut hair fanned out over the pillow upon which she laid it and began to place some of the small and fragrant white flowers she’d picked for Breha the day previous about the dolls beautiful and serene face and out amongst the long tresses. She could hear her father’s footsteps and her bottom lip pressed harder against its partner as Leia braced obstinately against his love and his fault, her hands tenderly setting the model cortege with a rag tag assortment of other dolls and stuffed animals. Myrtle's broken basic could not adequately explain to Leia how such a thing might be, leaving Leia's imagination to add the filigree with a child's more cogent understanding and directness as to the portent of ceremony. A cold breeze blew down from the mountain and through the window, curling the curtain around the little princess, and some of the white petals skidded and skipped lightly from the “dead” doll’s hair, turning bright little cartwheels into the lighted room beyond. Too late to catch them, Leia watched despondently and then sniffed and drew a sleeve across her face as she stiffened and lifted her chin coolly in anticipation of Bail. She didn’t recognize in herself the other little voice that prayed he would spare her the asking and embrace her anyway! TAG: Bail OOC: Jan di Toli and Carthaginian coming next. -----signature----- http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/17959370/p1 The Flower of Bast: personal journals of LDV ~\| Acroama, LD, SDO\|~ o[]\|\|]ooooooooo[0]\|\|[]{ "It's a sin to kill a Mockingbird!"
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 5/1 3:02pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
	IC: Twenty-One, cockpit of Gamma Five shuttle, Wraithis hangar Location: Waypoint Alpha The former TIE pilot could feel the ensign’s appreciation as she stared around the neat five station cockpit. Like her, he had instantly noted how the quality was several steps up from that of the SFS TIE series. “Do I have a supporting crew? Or, shall I fly it alone Do I have a supporting crew? Or, shall I fly it alone?” she enquired upon seeing the four flight stations. “For the kind of missions run from Wraithis, you will be either be flying solo, or with one other. If you are with another person, as the junior, you will be at the front there, with the ship commander back here. Solo, you can sit where you like. I have never been on a mission where all four flight stations were in use.” He waved her forward. “Take a seat, make yourself familiar with the controls. I have a feeling training time is running short.” Out the port, he could see the gaggle of seatroopers wandering back to the barracks. Tag: Calysta Shale IC: Maria van Helsing, troop barracks, Wraithis Location: Waypoint Alpha Standing half-bare beside her bunk in the spacious barracks, with the black rubberised undersuit up to her hips, she powdered her arms and torso with something to stop the thermal suit from adhering to her flesh. Before her on the neat folded back sheets, various bits of armour still to be put on. The helmet with the distinctive stormtrooper frown and black eye lenses was similar in design to her normal Desert Terrain one, except it was whiter, slightly heftier, and had an arrow of pink tapering over the top and down the front of it. The colour was matched by the laquered shoulder protectors, a thick stripe down the front of the torso, and some strange cover for the knees that she suspected were more to do damage if you kneed someone, than to protect her joints. One of the older stormtroopers had started calling her ‘Milli’ since she had won forty credits on the Corellian equivalent of the penny arcades, and her team hadn’t bothered to tell her that she could get her winnings changed up; she had needed an ASP utility droid to carry the strengthened sack of millicred coins! He had proved a bit of an afficionado on stormtrooper and clonetrooper armour, and had told her her outfit was a variant of Phase II clonetrooper armour. Custom-tooled on Ursa rather than the usual mass-produced style though, and he had asked what sort of impression she had made on the locals, to get such a prize! She zipped the undersuit up at the back, and started snapping on the armour. Tag: no-one -----signature----- "The Doctor likes to insult species when he's stressed. Cuts himself shaving, and its half an hour on lifeforms that he's cleverer than." 007 family - DVC's twin brother. http://www.geocities.com/acenhunter/
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Xaverri-The-Magician Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 5/1 8:34pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith - Date Edited: 5/1 8:43pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Xaverri-The-Magician
	GM Approved OOC: Just wanted to let everyone know that initial post as Wedge is a flashback post, his the age of 16 currently. XTM Name: Booster Terrik --Age: Early 30's ---Gender: Male ----Species: Human -----Eye Color: Brown (Red Prosthetic) ------Hair Color and Style: Gruff and short -------Skin Complexion: white ----------Personality: an imposing gundark of a Human from Corellia, was a complicated man; depending on whom you asked, he was either a double-crossing, no-good swindler, or a noble, loyal-to-a-fault family man. ------------Force Sensitive: No Personal Ship -Name: Pulsar Skate --Class: Baudo-class star yacht -----Weapon Systems: Laser cannon turret ------Crew Compliment: 8 -------Hyperspace Capability: yes --------Misc. Specs.: Biography -Brief History: Over the next several years, Terrik would continue doing business for the rebels—and profiting heavily from it—but everything else in his life would soon change. Undoubtedly the biggest change was his marriage to a woman named Jysella and the subsequent birth of his daughter, Mirax. Now that he had a family to take care of, Terrik abandoned his nomadic ways and began using Corellia as his base of operations. Llollulion, however, was not done seeing the galaxy, and the two parted ways. It is possible that Llollulion took Starwayman with him upon his departure—the ship was legally his, after all—because around this time Terrik acquired a new ship, the Baudo-class star yacht Pulsar Skate; as well as a new copilot, the tentacled alien Polipe. Just when things were leveling out for Terrik, however, his wife met a sudden end. Finding himself solely responsible for Mirax's welfare, Terrik had to rethink the way he conducted business; having a stationary base of operations already made it easier for the authorities to keep track of him, and the last thing Terrik wanted was CorSec showing up at his door and taking Mirax away while he was off on a job. Luckily, he had good friends in Jagged and Zena Antilles, the couple who operated Corellia's Gus Treta orbital refueling station. He often left Mirax in the Antilles's care during smuggling runs, though just as often, he would bring Mirax and the Antilles's son Wedge along for the ride. Spending many of their young years in each other's company, Mirax and Wedge would become good friends; Terrik and the Antilles began to regard each other's children as if they were their own. IC: Booster Terrik/ Mirax Terrik(NPC) and Wedge Antilles Gus Treta Station The Pulsar Skate dropped out of hyperspace almost too close to the green gas giant Varra Gus, close enough to the Gus Treta station to see if anybody was waiting there, anybody undesirable, anybody like CorSec. But what they saw was very different, and much worse. No one was at Gus Treta, no one at all. Maybe, no one would ever be there again. One of the problems with a small-moon station was that there was no way to tell how long ago the hit had happened. Under atmosphere, there'd have been smoke early, weeds and rust late. Here, there was nothing, bar debris and frozen air that might have been there for the month the Skate had been away, or only for an hour. The yacht's two occupants stared at the destruction in stunned silence, which Booster Terrik finally broke. "Sithspawn," he swore softly. "Black, dead stars." That last made his daughter Mirax swing around and stare at him. She hadn't heard him say that since her mother had died and he'd had to monitor his own language around his young daughter. Even in the rowdier places she occasionally had accompanied him to he'd been careful about it. Now, his face scared her worse than the destruction of what seemed like her second home, the place where she'd spent so much time with the Antilleses when Booster was off somewhere he didn't want his child. She didn't think she'd ever seen him quite so angry. "Sithspawn," he said again, and then seemed to make up his mind. "Hold her here," he said, "and keep a sharp eye out. I don't want CorSec dropping in on us any more than whoever did this." Mirax put her hand out and halted him as he started to leave the cockpit. "Father—where are you going?" Booster looked at his daughter for a moment. They were alike in some ways, but Mirax had her mother's beauty and build rather than his. Both were black-haired, though his was cropped very short and going grey where hers was long; and both were dark-eyed, although actually Booster's left eye glowed red deep beneath his brow from the replacement he'd gotten a decade earlier. But they never looked more alike than when they were squared off at each other, stubborn as rafiks, as they were now. "Where do you think, girl?" he finally said. "Down there. See if anything's left that might point at whoever did that." "Father. That's what CorSec's for. The Antilleses were legit," she pointed out. "CorSec, my rear," said Booster inelegantly, "which they couldn't find theirs with both hands. Since when did you rely on Corellian Security? Grey never taught you that; I know I didn't." "Father," she said again. "This isn't something you should do." "Why not?" Booster started to push past her, his bulk oddly graceful in the confined space of the Skate's forward area. "Father—I'm worried. What if..." her voice trailed off, and Booster stopped in his tracks. Sometimes he forgot how young she was, still only fifteen. "Worried about what?" he asked. "What if CorSec shows up and blames you?" "They won't. Not if you keep a good eye on that scanner," he added, somewhat spoiling his certainty. "What if they're still down there?" "Nobody's down there," said Booster patiently. "But... what if—" Booster lost his patience, which in truth he'd held onto longer than usual. "What if there's a squadron of Imperial fighters around the back side of the station? Can't live your life on 'what ifs', girl." He took a few steps, then stopped. "Mirax," he said, turning back to look at her, "that was Grey and Mrendy. My friends. My only friends. The only people who still remembered the name I was born with. This was the place I could come whenever, the people who were glad to see me regardless. I knew Mrendy a long time; I trusted Grey with my life. I trusted him with this ship. I trusted them with you. I stood for their boy when he was born. Nobody does this and I do nothing. Understand?" Mirax nodded, resigned to the inevitable and even, he thought, approving underneath the worry. She'd flinched when he'd mentioned their son... but she was tough, she was his daughter. She'd want vengeance soon enough. "Good girl. Now keep a sharp eye out, and stay next the comm," he said. "I'm taking the scooter; keep bay B open for me. In case." It was worse close up. Somebody had been either extremely angry or very vicious, maybe both. As far as Booster could see, nothing was left that was even worth mentioning. The refueling and maintenance bays had been torn open by heavy fire and their floors and remaining walls were scorched and twisted, eerie under Varra Gus's jade light. Any vehicles that had been here were long gone, either stolen or salvaged... wait a minute. Booster stared. The airlock on one of the doors into the main maintenance bay glowed green. And unless he was badly mistaken, that shadow next to the door held the Antilleses' short-range scooter, scuffed and dented but looking no worse than the last time he'd seen it. Maybe it had been overlooked, or scorned, but maybe... Booster drew his blaster and moved carefully into the airlock. The inside of this room wasn't much better than the maintenance bay had been. Scorch marks and broken furnishings bore witness that the marauders, whoever they were, had been in here, too. But the air was breathable, though very stale, and that was the first good sign he'd seen. He started to pull off his helmet, and that was when he heard the voice. "Stay put, whoever you are," it said, a young voice, strained almost beyond recognition. Almost. Booster didn't move, he was too experienced a smuggler for that. But his eyes closed, and he swallowed hard, and in general surprised himself with how much relief he felt. "Wedge? Boy, is that you?" "Boo—?" Wedge Antilles began, and had to break off and start over. "Booster? Booster?" Booster spun around and caught his breath. The boy looked like hell. Not surprising, he reflected, as he said, "Wedge. You're alive." That sounded so inadequate. "Living stars, Wedge. Your parents—?" he began and immediately wished he hadn't. Wedge shook his head, his eyes bleak. "No." He didn't seem to be able to add anything else to that, so Booster asked, "What the hell happened here, boy?" No use in pretending it hadn't, best get the boy to talk about it, and anyway, damn it, he wanted to know. Wedge shook his head again. His words came in short phrases as he fought his voice steady. "I don't know. I wasn't here. I was at Iriodana. I wasn't here." Booster shook his own head and took hold of the boy's shoulder. "A good thing." He looked around the building, then back at Wedge, cocking his head slightly to get the boy's face in his real eye, an old habit from days when his mechanical eye hadn't been as good as the one he had now. "A real good thing. Thank Sathembi, at least you—" He broke off as Wedge, without warning, collapsed against him, wracked with sobs and hanging on for dear life. Booster reviewed his words and swore silently at himself. Grey had always used to joke that Sathembi must be the most forlorn deity in the galaxy, no one ever so much as mentioned her besides Booster and Mrendy. And he always forgot how young Wedge was, really, only a few months older than Mirax for all he usually seemed more grown. He shook his head and then awkwardly wrapped his arms around the crying boy, who responded by burrowing tighter and crying harder. Booster couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Mirax cry—she was so tough—and he didn't think he'd been the one to deal with it when she had. Hesitantly he tightened one arm around Wedge's thin shoulders and held him, putting his other hand in the boy's shaggy, dark hair and rubbing (he hoped) comfortingly. But he couldn't think of anything substantive to say, only, "There, there. It's okay, Wedge. Go ahead." He repeated that a couple of times and then lapsed into silence, gladder than he wanted to admit that no one was there to see him, Booster Terrik, being, well, kind. He hadn't been crazy about the idea of one kid (though he adored Mirax), and now he guessed he'd gotten another one. Still—Mrendy's son, Grey's boy.... He stroked Wedge's hair and let him cry it out, thinking black thoughts himself. It really wasn't very long before Wedge got himself back in hand; he was, after all, sixteen. He pulled away, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand and looking anywhere but at Booster, who was just as glad to pretend it hadn't happened himself. They stood silently for a minute, and then Booster asked, "When?" That Wedge could answer. "Six...," he paused, rubbing the back of his hand across his face one last time and then picking up the blaster he'd dropped. "Six days," he finished. "I, uh, I was at Iriodana, picking up a transtator for the... anyway," he looked at Booster, his brown eyes still bleak, shaded with that green they picked up when he was under stress, like Grey's did..., but his emotions mostly under control. "I couldn't have missed them by more than an hour, Booster," he said. "Maybe not that long. Mom..," he swallowed hard. "Her blood was still wet..." "Dead stars," murmured Booster. Mrendy... "An hour," Wedge repeated. "If I had left Iriodana on time, if I hadn't... I'd've been here, with them." This time Booster said it deliberately. "Thank Sathembi you weren't." Wedge stared at him, with an emotion that Booster wasn't sure was surprise, or anger. "I mean it, Wedge. What could you have done here, with them, except die here, with them? I knew your parents too well not to know that they were glad you weren't here. Living stars, Wedge. It's not your fault that you're alive and they're not. The universe has given you life: you take it. Do with it." To be continued... -----signature----- There Are Alternatives to Fighting Your Eyes Can Decieve You, Don't Trust Them. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-e1tM-q9pCw
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 5/2 12:47pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
	OOC: My apologies to Outrider and MOE/Argen for misinterpreting the previous Lando/Drell posts. IC: ComScan, Pit Lieutenant, ISD Genocide Location: Ryloth The sensor operator looked hard at the circular green readout that monitored their pursuit of the freighter Outrider across the mountainous Ryloth terrain. With a flick of a switch, thin glowing yellow gridlines overlaid the dark green background. The horizontal lines had numerals, while the vertical ones letters. Each square thus formed, was about a square kilometre, and could be zoomed in or out as the mission required. Glowing spots of colour indicated the locations of the three craft. The fugitive, travelling ‘up’, had just entered grid Grek-3, while the two TIE fighters on it’s tail were right behind in Grek-4, bobbing about like the fruit in those fairground ‘Pick the fruit out of the water with your teeth’ games of his childhood, although, he conceded, it had probably had a snappier title back then. The brief foray down memory lane took a back seat as a fourth light suddenly appeared in the middle of his screen, at Isk-3, no less, practically two klicks off Outrider’s port! As good as a Star Destroyer’s sensor package was, they should have registered the newcomer lifting off from the surface, or arriving on the scene from a distance, not just arrive in the middle of the most intensely surveyed piece of sky, this side of Dredge. “Sir,” he called quietly to his lieutenant, not wanting the captain to overhear; he seemed, if the midshipman was any judge, severely *****. “New contact. Grid Isk-4, within two klicks of the Outrider*. I swear it wasn’t there a second ago.” The lieutenant was the stand like a strained bowcaster, hands behind his back, type. “Mm. Looks too small to have a cloaking device.” “Should I tell the captain?” The lieutenant peered over the rim of the command walkway, and considered their superior. The fishing expedition trying to hook the freighter with their tractor beam was not going well, and their captain felt under pressure to appease Admiral Thaw in the other Star Destroyer. He sucked air through his teeth as he came to a decision. “Ah, better not. We’ll just pretend it was there all the time, eh. No sense inviting trouble.” The operator nodded fervently. “I agree.” Tag: Corellian Outrider -----signature----- "The Doctor likes to insult species when he's stressed. Cuts himself shaving, and its half an hour on lifeforms that he's cleverer than." 007 family - DVC's twin brother. http://www.geocities.com/acenhunter/
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Corellian_Outrider Registered: Mar '02	Date Posted: 5/2 8:08pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
	~OOC~ Thank you Sithy for providing information for the Aysberg. Also apologie accepted . ~IC~[In order of rank:] First Lieutenant Taryn Haywood, Mr. Harris. Region: Bestine System Location: Victory-class Star Destroyer, Ulysses - Auxiliary Bridge For safety reasons, they had to vacate to the secondary bridge located deeper inside the Star Destroyer. It didn't take long before the Ulysses was up and running again. Taryn turned from her tactical discussion with Brashin as Jon Harris called her name. "We have another ship in the vicinity." "Any more good news?" She retorted. With how their luck was going lately, all she needed now was more 'bad guys' to drop in. "Its one of ours." He answered. "Oh heaven-sent!" Taryn sighed and turned back to the holo representation of Brashin. "As I was saying if we direct our firepower to the rear, we could take out their shields and allow your fighters to take out the guns..." ["Frigate Aysberg to Ulysses and Incarcerator, we can cover your retreat if you move fast."] A new voice interrupted her. She was about to respond when Brashin beat her to it. ["Yes Aysberg, understood. We are..."] Taryn huffed and stared daggers at him. 'HOW DARE HE!' she thought and shook her head. If Brashin was in the same room as her, she'll ring his neck. 'The coward. I will not run when Cale's life is in jeopardy!' Brashin must of saw her expression as he doubled back on his original words. ["We are unable to retreat at the moment. We have people onboard the enemy vessel and need to prevent it from leaving our gravitational field. We need more time."] 'Good.' Taryn took a deep breath to calm down. She motioned to the tech to severe their connection with the Incarcerator. She walked away from the station and covered her eyes with her hand. Her fingers lightly squeezed the bridge of her nose to help soothe her nerves. She was fed up with this situation. This battle. This ship. She took her hand away and saw Jon standing in front of her. 'Go away and leave me alone.' "Yes Mr. Harris?" She sighed. "We have discovered that our computers are downloading the enemy files." "Cale!" Taryn gasped. "Just got word from the Trition." Jon beamed and let out a hearty laugh. "The shuttle is on its way back." * * * * * * * * * Three great Imperial warships converged on the Haka'tak. Powerful green salvos were directed at critical part of the ship. Series of quad turbolaser batteries on the perimeter of the enemy Battleship respond in kind. Red turbolasers sprayed the area, hoping to force them back and cause serious damage in the process. Acting as a spearhead, the Ulysses powered towards the spherical heart of the lucrehulk. Enemy fire penetrated the low shields and caused a long gash on the underbelly of the Victory class Destroyer. More hit around the command tower, damaging the communications tower. The gravitation field emitting from the Interdictor shrunk down to a 'cone' that encompassed the single enemy vessel. The extra power allowed the Incarcerator more speed as it took the right flank and targeted the turbo laser batteries. Each small explosion meant there would be 'less teeth' for the enemy to 'bite' with. Cutting across the Haka'tak's stern, the Nebulon-B Frigate, Aysberg, concentrated all their firepower on the Lucrehulk's engines. A small explosion tore a chunk out of the enemy drives, exposing twisted machinery parts and spilling debris into the cold vacuum of space. Flashes filled the space around as more ships entered the sector. The reinforcements from Fondor had arrived, brought in position by the Incarcerator's gravity well. Multiple box shaped light Carrack Cruisers and two Strike Cruisers slowly manoeuvred themselves around the enemy vessel, add their firepower to the eradication. It won't be long now, the destruction shall be over shortly. "Dammit, Bond, get the hell off that rig" * * * * * * * * * Abandoning the auxiliary bridge, a lone officer ran down the halls of the Ulysses. Her dark hair swished side to side as Taryn reached the turbolift bay. She stepped inside and the doors closed behind her. The lift shook as their ship received more damage. "Hurry up!" She cursed the lift as she waited for it to reach her level. * * * * * * * * * Among the clash of the titans, two small shuttles entered the skirmish, insignificant compared to their brethren. They dodged stray Turbolasers shots, knowing too well that they be history if one hits them. One arced around to the Incarcerator, while the other shot into the small secondary hanger of the Ulysses. * * * * * * * * * Taryn raced to down repetitive grey hallways. Everything looked the same to her, which is why she almost missed her turn off. She skidded past a series of windows that overlook the secondary hanger bay. She witnessed the Lambda class shuttle, Triton lower its boarding ramp. She watched anxiously as Stormtroopers disembarked carrying wounded. She could feel her blood pressure skyrocketing. Then came four tall Neimodians, escorted by more Stormtroopers. Two more people came out of the shuttle, Vince and the young ensign. She waited and waited, but no one else came from the shuttle. "Where's Cale?" Tag: Sithy -----signature----- Certainty of death?Small chance of success?What are we waiting for? You take on One.You take on All Creation is an act of sheer will and next time it will be flawless
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Xaverri-The-Magician Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 5/2 9:06pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
	IC: Ysera Alexstrasza Halikarnassós - Hyperspace - En-Route to Ursa Voyage of the Albatross Meeting of Nations. "Seven colossal monuments?" Sabba said suspiciously. "You're talking about the First Seven of the Twenty Wonders of the Ancient Galaxy? Adas had the Pieces of the Capstone buried within the Seven Wonders?" "Yes," Traza said, "although in his lifetime, they weren't known as the Seven Ancient Wonders. That label was coined later, in the year 25,100 circa, by Suhcamillac of Arkania, the Chief Libarian of the Libary at Arkania. Why, at the time of Adas's death in 27,700 circa, only five of the Seven Wonders had actually been built." "My ancient history is a little rusty," Sabba said. "Can you remind me of the Seven Wonders, please?" It was the young Hapan woman who answered him, quickly and expertly: "In order of construction, they are: the Great Temple at Ziost. The Floating Gardens of Lwhekk. The Temple of the Infinite Spirit at J't'p'tan. The statue of Dathka Graush at Korriban. The Mausoleum at Ankus. The Lighthouse at Arkania. And the Colossus of Revansch Den Wis." "Thank you, Laura," Traza said. "I thought the Floating Gardens were a myth," Sabba said. Traza said, "Just because something has not been found yet does not make it a myth, Razna. But we digress. In his lifetime, Adas visited all five of the existing Wonders. The last two Wonders--the Lighthouse and the Colossus--would be built by his closest friend and general, Petohmi I, who would himself later become King of Ziost. "This creates a curious coincidence: taken together, these two titans of their age visited all seven of the sites that would subsequently be called the First Seven Ancient Wonders of the Galaxy. "Sure enough, soon after their deaths, the concept of seven 'great' structures came into being." "But don't be fooled. This was no coincidence at all. As I've said, the idea of the Seven Wonders of the Galaxy was first espoused by Suhcamillac of Arkania in 25,095. He did this in a text called "A Collection of Wonders around the Galaxy" now known simply as the Suhcamillac Text. "Suhcamillac, however, was not publishing some idle list. He was a man who knew everything about Adas, Petohmi and the Diamond Capstone. "According to the Suhcamillac Text, the Capstone was cut into Pieces like so." Traza drew a pyramid on the whiteboard and cut across it horizontally, dividing it into seven bands. "Seven Pieces: one pyramidal tip, six trapezoidal base Pieces, all varying sizes, which we number from the top down, one through seven. Then they were hidden in each of the Seven Wonders." "Wait," Sabba said, "the Seven Wonders of the Ancient Galaxy have long since fallen, been disassembled, or simply disappeared. How can we find these Pieces in structures that no longer exist?" Traza nodded. "This is a good point. Apart from the Great Temple, none of the Seven Wonders has survived to the present day. The Suhcamillac Text, however, has. "And let me make something else clear: while it bears his name, Suhcamillac was not the only person to write it. His Text is a compendium of writings from many writers, all of them members of a secret cult who updated it and revised it over the course of 15,000 years. They did keep track of every Wonder, even after they fell, and by extension they kept track of every Piece of the Capstone. Allow me to explain." "There is a well-known story about Adas the Sith'ari. Before he embarked on his campaign in Corellia, Adas visited an Oracle at the oasis of Rakata in Selonia. During this visit the Oracle confirmed Adas's belief that he was a god, no less than the son of the Force. "Less well known, however, is the gift that the Oracle is said to have given Adas when he departed Selonia. It was never seen, but according to the historian Senehtsillac, it occupied "a whole covered speeder that required eight other speeders to draw it". "Whatever this gift was, it was heavy. Very heavy. Adas would take it in its shrouded ship with him on his all-conquering campaign across the Galaxy." "You believe the Oracle gave the Capstone to Adas?" Sabba said. "I do. I further believe that during that campaign, Adas systematically hid those Pieces at the five then-existing Wonders. He then left the last two Pieces with his trusted friend, Petohmi I, who as we know would go on to build the last two Ancient Wonders. "For, you see, this 'Oracle of Rakata' was more than just a seer. The Oracle was--and is to this day--the High Priest of an ancient Sun-cult known as the Cult of Sôwilô. Interestingly, Sith records knew this cult by another name: the Prophets of the Capstone which in present day are known as the Prophets of the Dark Side. That's right. They are the ones who placed the Diamond Capstone on the apex of the Great Temple. They are also the ones who took it down. "This Cult of Sôwilô has endured to the present day, under many guises. For instance, Black Sun, and some sections of the USC and many more other organizations. Traza continued. "As time passed and each Wonder fell, Suhcamillac's successors in the Cult of Sôwilô kept careful watch over the Pieces of the Capstone, recording their resting places in the Suhcamillac Text. "For example, when the Colossus Revansch Den Wis was toppled by an earthquake, Sith cultists spirited away its head, rescuing the Capstone Piece on its neckpiece. The Colossus' new resting place was then noted in the Suhcamillac Text---but in a secret language. "And here, Razna, lies the importance of the little girl." "You see, Suhcamillac and his successor wrote all of their entries in an ancient language, a language unlike any other in the history of the galaxy, a language that has defied translation for over 20,000 years, even by modern supercomputers. "It is a mysterious language known as the Word of Rakatan. "Now, we believe that Father Callow Batta possesses a USC copy of the Suhcamillac Text---copied in secret by a USC spy in 25,095 circa. But he cannot translate it. And so he went in search of the one person in the galaxy capable of reading the Word of Rakatan: the Oracle of Rakata. "For while Adas has come and gone, the Oracle of Rakata lives to this very day, albeit in hiding somewhere in Selonia. "In a single unbroken line spanning more than 20,000 years, the Oracle---male or female, the Oracle can be either--has always spawned one child. And the Oracles' offspring have inherited the preternatural 'sight' associated with the Oracle, thus becoming the next one. "The extent of this 'sight' has been debated over the years, but one talent peculiar to the Oracle has been documented by Sith, Jedi and historian writers alike: the Oracle of Rakata is the only person alive who is born with the ability to read the Word of Rakatan. "Since Suhcamillac's followers died out sometime in the 23,900 circa, the Oracle is now the only person in the Galaxy who can decode the Suhcamillac Text and thus reveal the locations of the Seven Ancient Wonders." "As we have just heard, led by Callow Batta, the USC coalition did not locate the Oracle himself, but they did find his pregnant wife, which is just as well: the Oracle, a fool. distasteful man by all accounts, was killed two months later in a drunken accident. Had he been located sooner, this mission would have been significantly easier and could have started immediately. "In any case, now the USC's have a new-born Oracle---a boy---which means that when he reaches sufficient age, he will be able to decode the Text. According to ancient sources, a new Oracle begins to command his or her ability to decode the Suhcamillac Text, the USC force will commence upon the greatest treasure hunt in history: a search for the seven Pieces of the Diamond Capstone." The Hapan woman, Laura Lockhart, leaned forward: "Only on this occasion, by some fluke, the Oracle's wife gave birth to twins. And we have the other child: a girl." "Correct," Traza said. "And now it becomes a race. A race based solely on the maturation of two children. As they grow, they will learn to command their abilities, and when the are able to read the Word of Rakatan, they will be able to decipher the Suhcamillac Text." "Which means the girl's wellbeing is of the utmost importance,' Niloc said. "She is to be guarded around the clock, nurtured and brought to maturity, so that when the time comes, she can translate the Text and guide us to the Wonders before the USC or the CIEF can get them." Traza nodded in agreement. "Make no mistake, people. The odds are against us. Our rivals from CIEF and USC are already employing hundreds of scientists in pursuit of this goal. When the time comes, they will send entire armies after those seven Pieces." "We do not have their resources, or their numbers. But having said that, we are not entirely without advantages." "First. Aiding our quest is the fact that the two superpowers do not know we are embarking on it. They don't know we have the girl. "And second: we are not after the entire Capstone. We only need to get one Piece. If we do that, we deprive our adversaries of the power of the entire Capstone. Granted, getting just one Piece will be a titanic task." Traza scanned the room. "This is a weighty responsibility, too weighty for one nation alone to bear. Which is why we have all come together today, a group of small nations who are prepared to join forces to combat the great powers of our time. And so the following course of action is proposed: each member of this group of nations will provide one soldier to share in the guardianship of the girl--both in her growth and in our ultimate quest to find one Piece of the Capstone. "But I warn you. This will be a long mission, a mission of years, not months. it will also be one of constant vigilance, self-sacrifice and discipline. The group of chosen soldiers will accompany Captain Alexstrasza and myself to the safe house where the girl is now being kept. There we shall guard her and raise her, in absolute secrecy, until she is ready to fulfill her destiny." The seven delegations formed into huddles, whispered among themselves. Since she was her own delegation, Alexstrasza didn't need to discuss anything with anyone. At length, they reconvened, each nation presenting its selected guardian. Cardooine already had Xim Traza. Shaykh Sabba said, "On behalf of the United Arabanth Imaarah, I offer the services of my second son, Captain Rihaz Razna Sabba." The trooper who had been sitting beside Sabba for the duration of the meeting stood. He was a rotund fellow, short and round--some would say chubby---with a bushy black beard and turban. "Captain Rihaz Razna Sabba, heavy arms, explosives, 1st Commando Squadron, at your command. Call-Sign: Saint." Then the Zeltrons' representative stood: tall, handsome and athletic, he looked tough. "Lieutenant Euqirne Zurcalev. Unidad de Operaciones Especiales, Zeltron Marines, Underwater destruction and demolition. Call-sign: Torero" The Koruns introduced a tall dreadloacked fellow named Sergeant T.J Combo, call-sign: Warlock. The Corellians offered a big hairy-faced CAF pilot nicknamed Narsilion. Last of all, the Hapan proffered two representatives: one of which was the only other woman to join this special multinational unit. They sent Laura Lockhart and the giant fellow who sat at he rside, her brother, Rowan. Both hailed from the famed Hapan commando unit, the Nahtaics Hcalgonaihf na Mria. She introduced herself: "Sergeant Laura Lockhart, hostage rescue, advanced medical. Call-sign: Black Maria." He did too: "Corporal Rowan Lockhart, also hostage rescue, bomb disposal, heavy arms. Call-sign: Liquidator." And there they stood, around the wide table, the nine chosen representatives of eight small nations who were about to embark on the mission of their lives. They would acquire a tenth member soon---Arrow, from Corulag--but he would not be a member of their choosing. They prepared to leave. A ship was waiting to take them out of Hapes and to the secret safehouse. At the door, Sabba spoke to his son, Saint, in their native tongue. One word kept arising: 'bint." The short fat trooper nodded. As he did so, Alexstrasza stepped past them, walking out the door. "If you're going to talk about her," she said, "please stop calling her 'the girl'. She has a name, you know." "You named her?" Saint said, surprised. "Yes," Alexstrasza said. "I named her Ariel." To be continued..... -----signature----- There Are Alternatives to Fighting Your Eyes Can Decieve You, Don't Trust Them. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-e1tM-q9pCw
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Xaverri-The-Magician Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 5/3 4:20pm Subject: RE: The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith
	IC: Ysera Alexstrasza Ursa - En-Route to Kavala Ysera woke up and sat up on her bunk bed which she turned and sat on the side and stretched her arms and legs. She stood up for a few minutes to get her bearings and walked over and sat down at her desk and looked at the various pictures, drawings on the board in front of her. She reached out and shuffled through the overlapping pictures until she reached the bottom of the pile, and it was a compartment box again and this time she picked up the Holo-Pic not the pouch it was one holo-picture of Celeste and Ysera wearing hiking gear and smiling at their accomplishment, their first rock climb together. A tear of moist escaped her eye as she remembered Celeste, especially the last time she saw her, it was on the eve of the coronation on Coruscant....it was early morning. Seven years ago - Coruscant A night of confessions, difficult truths and cataloguing of negatives to the union, these were universal actions of betrothed, at least for those that make any pretense to equality between life mates. Sleep did not come to cure the morning sickness the raven-haired Reina had been enduring in secret for months now and “Uncle’s” revelation of her condition to her intended and co-regent came with great surprise, if not to her husband, then to her, as did the Emperor’s “familial” care, the present of a small vial to stave the nausea regarded dubiously by both apprentice and ward. Gratitude was voiced at the close of the very civil tea with the Emperor, as even such a nicety was expected in Sith’s company, perhaps even more so! Morning came early to the young couple, this, the coronation day of the soon to be Re. Sleepless, breathless, hopeful after a season of bitter bleak dark, it was possible in the cathartic bloom of such a loving regard as each bore one another to believe that intent and just goals were the best focus to which sullied hands could apply themselves. Even small moments such as these in the softness of morning hours could allow one to overlook ghosts of the past and the invisible chains of fear and duty – even as the north-easterly faced windows, though white with condensation showed the still adamant towers of the abandoned Jedi Temple in the distant tinged with the pink of a new day, and flush of cheek, bright eyed and glad to soon quit Coruscant, they rose to bathe, to dress, because even the exalted must make their morning ablutions. Anakin frowned as he let go her hand reluctantly, the filmy gossamer of her peignoir, though fine and exquisitely wrought was a blemish to the skin in which she’d been born, as least so he felt and expressed as much. He trained his eyes on Celeste, away from the ghostly spires, away from the senate building and that fated domed office and from many other sights visible from the 140th floor of the Ursean Embassy. Celeste wrapped a pale pink stole about her shoulders and slipped her feet into a pair of satin mules which gave rise to her husbands comment about not letting her feet be scuffed upon the rough and ragged silk of the deeply piled carpets. She smiled indulgently and returned the comment in kind. A meal had been laid by the droid serving staff, the Reina valuing her privacy, eschewed menials for such tasks. Flesh servants were better employed in effort which required creativity and challenges, she believed. Expecting a meeting with the Marques and Marquessa of Gripsholme, the current Ambassador from Ursa, and family, the Reina would need to hurry through other small matters of business before they arrived to be received informally. At least, she had been informed it was family who would arrive shortly. The cloud of plain weave softly billowed against her feet, having rounded the little astro-mech that was her husband’s unlikely companion, Celeste smiled at the incongruence and sat to breakfast, the curious brown vial upon the table near her plate. She sighed and stared at it. “R2,” murmured Anakin as he followed Celeste, roughly tucking the white cambric of his tunic hem into the waist of his black breeches, boots tucked under his arm. He grabbed a toasted wedge of flat bread before sitting and smirked as he listened to his wife dictate a well scripted response to a selected set of questions, submitted and approved for the Reina by the Emperor’s close aide, Sly Moore. She looked up herself knowingly and continued. Anakin raked his wet hair of knots and satisfied it was at least out of his face, he lifted a reader in silence and quickly pulled up some plans he’d been editing from Kuat, saying eventually, without taking his focus from the task at hand. “I liked that comment - good one. Let’s see if that passes the censors!” “Aren’t you going to eat something,” he asked genuinely urging her. Celeste covered her mouth and shook her head. He sighed and snatching up the brown vial ‘Uncle Dantius’ had given her the day before, said, “If he wished you ill, I doubt by this draught he would …” Anakin stopped and cocking his head held the remedy up for her to take. Yet, Celeste looked with concern again to the little vial. Suddenly, the vial was upended and Anakin took a swig. He stopped it and lay it down, brows arched and gesturing so as to say, “See?!” Celeste, however, looked on with concern and surprise and jumped when Anakin fell fitfully to the floor and began to writhe in apparent pain! “Anakin,” cried Celeste as the three serving droids and R2 moved in quickly. “Oh! You are fortunate I am not taken sick just now…” the Reina chided upon finding her husband was curled in laughter. “YOU!... Oh… I think I might…” “DON’T… JUST BREATHE…” he protested as he whisked her toward the fresher… *** The Embassy steward bowed and informed Ysera, amidst the coming and going of staff who attended the young woman, that the Prince Regent and the Reina would receive her informally, presently and if there was nothing else before was escorted to the Royal suite. "Thanks but no thanks. I can manage." Ysera said. "If that is all, Princess, I shall leave you to your appointment. Gruss Seele, Highness,' said the grey liveried man, smiling in spite of his somber garb, an Ursean happy for his system this day. Ysera observed the guards away and, herself, crisply attired in her USF uniform, she walked past other visiting dignitaries and personages of distinction who must recognize her, bowing or saluting as she passed. She had been long away from Ursa, and from Coruscant for that matter. She smiled to herself at how easily certain habits, particularly those military, died hard, and how easily she fell into a military step. The formality seeming odd to her, she nonetheless took special delight in the Ursean interior of the vast Embassy with its wooden detailing, painted motifs, columns and parquetry underfoot. Her ride swift, the lift doors open quietly onto an octagonal wood inlaid room with huge portraits of both persons and historical panoplies. It smelled reassuringly old, like that ancient basilica which topped the mountain into which the Embassy was built, the temple moved from Ursa to Coruscant ages ago and reconstructed to look down upon the center of the capital like a beacon. Alexstraza was greeted in this ante room to the suite, an entire floor of the Embassy with a very tight security. She looked up into the dome above to see a sky painted above her. The place was very much like an Ursean Palace, if a little more streamlined, but her observation and nostalgia were interrupted by the sound of one of a bevy of liveried attendants who clearing his throat ushered her into another room. Though with seeming ease she was admitted, it was clear to her eye, that she was watched closely, though she possessed the highest clearance required to enter here. Clothed as ceremonial guard, the suite was well stationed with USF and the newly formed Black Guard. Studying at Neo College under Professor Traza and now involved as she had been in field research, she had been removed from her homeworld and her family for so long and it was only now she really missed home, as she anticipated seeing her cousin. Having stepped out from the open lift doors and now as she was ushered into the inner sanctum as it were, she observed the "controlled mayhem" before her and was glad, unlike her duty bound cousin, Celeste, she had not been in line for the throne. To live such a life! Ah but today, she was proud of Ursa, glad to finally see what had been long in coming! Yet, there was still much further to go and with the contagious feeling about the Embassy her step was embued. She strolled towards the USF guards. "Captain Ysera Alexstrasza," is all she said, foregoing her Royal title and presented the stationed guard, her clearance card as she observed her surroundings. "Da hin," he said with a snap salute and yet another aide approaching. This one bowed and addressed Alexstrasza by her honorific and lead her through a set of formal rooms to ornately carved double doors where upon the man quietly spoke Ysera's name into a comm at the side of these monstrous “gates.” There was an awkward moment of silence and then the doors opened upon a light filled room the windows of which looked over the park-like and tiered gardens of the Embassy sector. No aid greeted her now, only a young couple at breakfast, still dressed as couples usually are at such an early hour. The pearlescent sunrise gave its prism-ing light to the beveling in the casements that let unto a terrace of its own and in a white "day gown,” Celeste sat giving a much begrudged dictation, her "intended" the knighted and erstwhile Jedi, whom the officers nicknamed "Mr. Affable" stood, a piece of fruit in hand as he paced before the morning sun in boots, black breeches, and a white tunic – garb not entirely unlike that of the Jedi “weeds” he once wore during the late Old Republic. Ysera noted this curiously, for so he was dressed the last time she’d seen him, only months prior. He seemed to be a creature of habit and entirely unconcerned with the fit of fashion. He looked up to greet the Captain, as she called herself, with a nod of recognition and then glanced to the falcon on her shoulder. A small whir and beep gave advance of a little blue-domed and dented astro-mech as it rotated to bring its optic lens to bear on the newcomer and then "whooooo-ed" in what sounded like an admiring tone. Alexstraza wore her Ursean uniform and some brand-new steel-soled boots. Her ice-green eyes scanned the room, and taking in her 'superiors', the couple having a simple breakfast, Ysera smiled, thinking that someday soon, their union would be blessed. She caught Anakin's blue-eyed gaze in her own viridian-green and simply nodded greeting in return and then bowed as was custom before her monarch and matriarch. She would have commented to Anakin that when last they had met, he was likewise occupied. His demeanor brought the desire out in her, but she observed the proper etiquette and waited to be addressed, suppressing her roguish bent. It was clear they both were a bit surprised to see her. "Ysera," said Celeste rising slowly, 'It was you, the family to whom we granted audience. I thought it, Ivan andThalianna... and you can imagine, I expected she must forgive the measure of undress, our informality, but it is all the time this morning. I thought our meeting with you would be later." "My Lord," Celeste continued softly, "You know Her Highness Ysera Alexstrasza?" "Yes," he said blinking and putting down the reader and nodding, 'Yes, of course, she did a small service for me… one greatly appreciated,” he added and continued turning his gaze to Celeste, “though I can be forgiven for not remembering just yet the entire brood of Ursa!” Again to Alexstraza, “Your Highness," said Anakin bowing but shallowly, ill at ease still with such a web of hierarchies. Not several months before, such deference shown him would have been not only improper but the height of hubris in the eyes of the Jedi and thus, though of natural grace endowed, he was awkward and beguiling in a native sense, at least as Celeste must see it. "You are whatever your intent, premature, Ysera, but as it is too early to stand on formality and you could be hungry, take breakfast. Celeste is having none," he said looking pointedly at the Reina. Ysera, hearing a familiar whirring sound, looked upon Anakin's droid, and could only smile at the memory of the domed R2 unit essaying the graveled paths outside Kavala Palace. "Good morning to you, R2," Ysera said as she knelt down to greet the little droid and Lotus on her shoulder popped up and landed on top of R2's domed head. R2, for his part, rotar moving wildly from side to side, could not shake the bird which seemed content to roost atop his dented blue dome and try as he may, the bird would not budge. It didn’t help that the Master seemed not the least bit incline to aide him, but rather enjoyed the astromech’s predicament. Ysera looked up from her kneeling position to return Celeste’s greeting, bowing her head, "Good morning to you too, Cousin and to you... Lord…" She stopped herself, remembering, and said, “Anakin.” Rising, she straightened her jacket and continued, "Thank you! Actually, I'm starving to be honest, at least this time there is no line of dignitaries to distract and you are spared the indignity of having to eat “hand.” As she took Anakin's invite and winked at him boldly she said with less stiffness, "So how are you both doing?" and began to fill her plate. "I am amused is how I am and Celeste has iterated a total of three times that she detests food altogether. It must be the prerogative of royal blood to be so ... what's the word...." he snatched up his reader, typing quickly. Celeste furrowed her brow and covered her lips as she looked to the side, "ah... alternately ‘peckish’...rarified words for rarified birds," he said cocking a grin at his obverse pun. "You are welcome," he returned to Ysera and then said more somberly, "It is wasteful to lavish such food on the unappreciative." He was intent on goading Celeste for some reason unknown. Celeste picked up a crust and nibbled pathetically. Scoffing, she said, "What becomes of my plate, I’m sure I do not know. You have a hollow leg, that much I do know." "Actually," he enjoined now sitting and intent upon his plate, "It’s an hollow arm, but I'm not quibbling." Ysera only smiled at the two, "You can also speak for me too, Anakin. You’re not the only one with a hollow arm, as it were," As a small glint of metal was showing through a gap on her sleeve, as she smiled more openly. "Celeste you can do better than that, show your husband how we eat, Ursean style..." Ysera teased her cousin on. "No need to hold back, just because R2 is watching." She indicated to the domed droid and gave it a pat on its domed head, displacing, happily for R2, the falcon. R-2 simply beeped and bleated his greeting to the tall blond Captain, perhaps less enthusiastically and Anakin swore, shaking his head, R2 was pouting. "You'll... excuse me... for a moment, " said Celeste, unable to enjoy the lapse in cybernetic etiquette and wrapping her pink stole about her shoulders and rising quickly to disappear into another room, not bothering to listen for a response. Anakin looked after the quickly retreating Celeste and appeared to lean after her, then coming to a decision, he remained silent and then looked to Ysera. Ysera observed. "Celeste showed me your report," said Anakin sitting now and returning to his breakfast. “Not much time… you’ll pardon my abruptness, but I have questions. If I were not … obligated, I would insist upon accompanying you or at least sending my Lieutenant, but you are ready to pursue the venture and it’s clear, there’s little time to spare,” he said quietly and in a tone as convivial as possible. He looked about the room cautiously and back to Ysera, biting his lower lip. “Your competition is greater than you might at present know and … I’ve found that curiousity does not kill that cat,” he took another bite of fruit and crunching said, “…just makes it more …” he paused, “cunning. It’s a matter of forcing those 9 lives…” he said more to himself than to her. He watched her eat for a moment without comment. “Why did you wait till now to speak with Celeste," he asked, raising his eyes to look over the half-eaten jura he levitated between his hands, one flesh, the other glinting golden in the coming sun. “We might have been able to aide you more … effectively,” he offered, still ‘reading’ Ysera, gently sorting and sensing her intent. "Well, I wanted to make sure everything was ready and in place, thus why I came to Celeste now than earlier. The Professor and I have been working non-stop on this Anakin. And of course I had to wait this long as my new arm was being implemented, by the good professor." He looked again at the aforementioned arm through slimmed eyes and was about to speak. "So, Anakin," Ysera turned to face him, as she picked up a piece of fruit and started to cut it up, "What is it you require me of, as I don't want to linger more than I have to," she inquired to the Re. He sat back and pushed away from the table, placing the knife with which he was slicing his own fruit and put his hands on his thighs. He regarded Ysera summing her up and answering to himself questions that arose. "What do I require of you," he asked rhetorically, "You were very thorough from my reading. It is clear that the University was not an option for locating a funding source. You understand that to announce such a voyage would be tantamount to inviting a sacking. I can appreciate, if such was your intention being an Ursean to keep the matter all in the family, I'm supposing…” he said further in his cryptic way, but he knew she understood. He pushing further away from the table, shaking his head at some private thought, and again looked off to where the Reina had disappeared and again addressed Ysera, "If as I have read is so, it will be an arduous journey and a protracted one. The cost in supplies alone, never mind the crew, would be greater than could easily be kept from notice. If you are to go, you must go covertly and immediately. We have discussed this. Something of the report has already leaked by now – this much my operative has found. Thus, I require you to take this," he said reaching into a small pouch in a brown belt hanging over the back of a chair. He slid his hand across the table and withdrew it to reveal a set of credits in very large amounts. “No further inquiries, no solicitations. It’s all there and a requisition for funds from an anonymous account your cousin has set up. I haven’t had the time to keep up with your … Professor Xim, but, there must be no more talk.” He leveled an intense gaze at her. Ysera sat there, matching Anakin's intense gaze, with no show of emotion on her expression, and she didn't need to look at the credits, knowing what it meant to have the Re's and Reina's support on this. This was no ordinary covert op, it was to be the most important endeavor in recent history. "I will not fail, your highness." Ysera replied to the Re, with a quiet confidence in her breath. "Of course, you won't. I can not claim to know you well... cousin," said Anakin with a strange smile, "but the motivations disallowing failure are strongly compelling and your Reina would count the loss of you sorely. No, you will not fail!" Ysera only smiled at the Re's response. "Well on that note, there is a bet, on how long this will last, and the winner walks away with my ship as the prize," Ysera smirked, "Are you much of a gambler, Anakin?" Ysera asked while she was handling the transfer of credits to her small pouches on her belt. "NO, I don't gamble, it wouldn't be fair to other players," he said half serious. "To your health, then," he said raising a glass of water to her. "There, I'm ... much improved," said Celeste rounding the corner and gliding back into the room, her face pale and eyes bright, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She halted at the doorway through which she'd left and looked at the two, Anakin and Ysera, seemingly discerning a change in demeanor. "Then...you will be leaving soon, Ysera," she said quietly, lowering her eyes. “Our trust, you carry… so much depends upon you!” Ysera raised her glass as well to the Re,"No, to your success when we return, another reason Ursa needs to be proud," She drank her glass to the fullest and started to rise from the table at that same time, her cousin Celeste returned and saw her eyes lower. Alexstrasza turned and went to her past R2, Ysera lifted her cousin’s chin slightly to look at her and possibly the last time she will see her after today. It was a gesture of some cheek, but she hoped Celeste would forgive her. It was not allowed to assume such intimacy with the Matriarch and Celeste was notoriously reserved in public, at least. "Cousin, before I go, I have something for you, as a reminder, just in case things....," Ysera paused and smiled again, "no, think of this as our times together," Ysera pulled out two pairs of leather gloves, each with very beautiful embossed initials of both cousin's names on the outside palm of the gloves. "I know you won't have time to practice climbing while I'm away, but if you did then put them to good use, which I know you will, Celeste," Ysera said to her younger cousin. Celeste took the proffered gloves and felt them with both hands and looked up, 'You won't be at the coronation, then? Tomorrow, we shall be plighted … publicly. I wonder what the "rags" will make of it all," she said willing a lightheartedness she did not feel. "Such an endeavor, Ysera. It won't be simply a hard climb..." Celeste mused in memory, "without consequences for us all … should you fail and ...” Celeste quit the subject suddenly looking about. “You'll be like our ancient forebears out there," she mused lyrically. No Ysera was strong and resourceful. She must survive. "I shall think of you while you are away. Yes... yes, I'll put these to good use, then...Force be with you," said the Matriarch putting her hand gently upon Ysera's forehead in blessing. Ysera felt a wave of emotions wash over her as she felt Celeste's words and her touch of blessing for her. "I wish I could be there for the coronation but time is always against me, as usual." She mused on their times together. Ysera, couldn't help but give Celeste a hug, only now she really would miss her. "For one last time, cousin," She said in her cousin’s ears. "And thank you." "Force speed, Captain," said Anakin rising and speaking with either confidence or force of will. "You bear our confidence, our greatest gift. We await your successful return!" Celeste returned her cousin's embrace, though still it was difficult to do so. Touching in such a way, yet an action with which the young Reina still tentative, but she returned the affection robustly, warmly, and gave herself in hopes as many do, to shield and protect her voyaging system's woman. No one else could go to safe guard. Any new introduction to the team would incite disharmony amongst the members of the original company of systems involved. Still, Celeste looked to Anakin whom she knew still looked upon the venture with misgiving. Stepping back after their shared moment, Ysera looked over to Anakin once more and then to R2,"Take good care of your owner, R2, I get the feeling he will need it." As she started to walk away, Lotus lifted up and landed on her shoulder once again, "And Ursa will have a Reina, for the rest of your days, Celeste." Ysera saluted to both of them and walked herself out. A tear fell from her eye as she stepped into the lift and the doors closed on both of them standing there and Ysera smiled, not unaware of the coup she had accomplished almost serendipitously in gaining her new Re’s confidence and the image was one that she carried with hope and warmth forever. Letting Ysera go, Celeste was joined by the Re, R2 trundling along behind the tall regent. The Royal couple gravitated to one another, a sense of unity and strength between them. They were in a rare moment, allowed a certain contentment, and wore a brightness perhaps born of new beginnings. Thus to part with Ysera at such a time was certainly a disappointment but then, Ysera's journey might prove momentous indeed! They bade the Captain farewell and watched her leave in a crisp salute. Ysera wiped the tear trails and placed the holo-pic after a moment of lingering on the image before putting it back within the compartment box and heard a commotion outside her room and pushed her chair away and got up and walked out her room and didn't see anyone. Where is the sounds coming from? She investigated a bit more and heard the noises of talking coming from the cockpit. The doors opened up on her approach and everyone turned to see her, the whole team were in the cockpit, she scanned the cockpit and saw from left to right, and then she look at Narsilion the pilot as he was partially blocking her view to see what is happening. She could tell they came out of hyperspace, as it wasn't blue. And Narsilion moved his head from her view and saw that she has returned to Ursa's system, she could see the planets that made up the Ursa system but it was Kavala that dominated her interest and a smile not just a smile but a huge smile crept on her face for the first time in a longtime, Ysera Alexstrasza, Captain of the Halikarnassós, Royal Princess of Ursa, Cousin to the Reina was happy, like the weight on her shoulders just suddenly subsided and breathed out a sigh of relief and they started cheering their excitement. We made it....we finally made it.....6 years on the run....she was home. Kavala Orbital Space Port came into view, Narsilion looked to Ysera.