Library After the Awakening Resource Thread

They're good, Sinre! I'll wait to be surprised, I think!

 

Two weeks before the Battle of Eshan

Vincent stood in the dark, the room illuminated only by a single wall display, names, numbers, estimates. Lives and credits scrolled across the screen. He tightened his hands into fists behind his back, the leather creaking loudly as the scrolling continued, the numbers increasing exponentially, rising higher and higher. “Hundreds... of millions...” Vincent spoke quietly, to the figure he felt behind him. “Every living being in that star system...” He didn’t need to finish the statement, he knew that Tank had felt it too, even if he couldn’t use the title of Jedi anymore.

“Gone.” Tank ground out, eyes closed tightly as he held a hand to his heart. Slowly, he dropped heavily into a chair, a curled fist lightly pounding on a table. “Why...what purpose does such senseless slaughter provide?”
“To make a point.” Vincent replied quietly. “Why did the Empire destroy Alderaan? Why did the Empire use FG36 on Gibad?” He took a deep breath, “And they’re paying the same price. Or they’re going to. We’re already getting reports that the weapon that destroyed the system has already been destroyed by the Resistance.”

“Senseless. A waste of resources.” Tank uttered, putting a hand to his head. “The death of the Emperor should have begun the process of putting an end to all this.”
He finally looked up, looking at the wall display. “Damn you Snoke.” Taking a deep breath, he released it, and with it, most of his anguish as he mastered himself into something approximating normal. He wouldn’t be for awhile, but he was already focusing it, putting it into proper perspective and letting it go, as a Jedi should do. Rising, he walked up to the display and sighed, shaking his head. “I wish Luke hadn’t been so...I don’t know. Rattled? Shattered? Whatever it was that sent him off, I wish it hadn’t happened. We might have been able to do something about things like this.”

“We all could have done more…” Vincent admitted, “I could have focused my assets, saw all those resources. Republic intelligence could have.” He took another breath, before closing his eyes to the list. “But blaming ourselves and others will not change what has happened, we need to focus on what we can do now.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”

“So am I.” He waved the display away and took a step back, “The Council of Sovereigns is debating going to war. They killed the Echani delegation in that attack, and I was ordered to send a recall command to every member of the Mikaru Security Force.” He turned to the older man, “But first, we should focus on support. The New Republic is reeling, and the Hosnian system is still on fire. We have access to the Silver Lining: we should take her and see if we can provide assistance. There may very well be people alive in the system periphery and ships that were in far orbit.”

“It won’t be easy, there will be a lot of debris from the celestial bodies that were there. The jump in is going to be hell.” Tank admitted, begrudgingly. “We could put out a call to any civilian ships, smugglers, scum, whoever, to provide assistance if we find a significant number of beings.” His glum expression gave word to his thoughts on that prospect coming true.

“Good thing I’ll have a good pilot at the helm, and we’ll take care of that along the way. Callista can get working on organizing pay for those who don’t want to just be good citizens today.” He shut down the other consoles in the room and marched out of conference room. The station was bustling, pilots were moving around, the entire station was getting ready for action, with the defense force moving to clusters at the edge of the system. The entire planet below was on lockdown, the planetary shields up and every ounce of energy pulled from every non-essential system to the point that the atmosphere flickered if you looked out a viewport towards the surface. “The Council fears that if the reports of the Resistance’s victory are wrong, we may be a target.”

“It’s possible. The First Order is not exactly friendly towards the Echani.”

“True.” He stepped onto the trolley and waited for the redhead to join him before pushing in the key-code for the Silver Lining’s docking bay. “Regardless, I hope the Resistance was successful, even if all the planetary shields in this system hold we’ll be devastated.”

“I don’t think there’s a planetary shield that can repel firepower of that magnitude.” Tank replied, crossing his arms. “But I’m concerned about what comes if they did succeed. The Republic is currently in chaos, and the First Order just lost their big stick. Who knows what they’ve been building further in the Unknown Regions?”
“Their trade has been very heavily regulated.” The trolley continued to sweep through the station, it was one smaller part of a massive series of installations that together formed a ring around Eshan. It alone spanned four kilometers in length, all to facilitate the fighters and craft the company did business with.

“We know they managed to build those Star Destroyers, but unless they managed to fool every third party looking into their business, and built an armada, they probably have a small fleet.” He leaned against the railing, the rushing wind sending his braid flying, “That’s probably why they targeted Hosnian first, then the Resistance. Resistance is a more direct pain in their hide, but if they took them out, they would have been smashed by the Republic fleet. Even with half the fleet probably still intact their leadership is in disarray. First Order’s probably is as well. They’re a lot like the old Empire. And we know from both Death Stars that big leaders liked to sit on those planet killers for the show.”

Tank snorted, shaking his head. “Flying near one of those was bad enough. Somehow I can’t imagine we were lucky enough for Snoke to be sitting on that thing if the Resistance took it out. Hopefully they lost some other key leaders though, that should make things significantly easier if they have to rely on less experienced people.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing as well. “But focusing on the immediate issue, do we have any assets that could be sent to scout ahead? Would be good to have an idea what we might come across as we go into the system.”

“All we have on site is the Vision of Confluence and Spear of Naavala and the stations three flights of fighters.” He held on to the rail as the trolley came to a halt near the loading collar for the larger ships. “The Ascendant Pride is getting it’s engines retooled and won’t be ready for several days but I can order its complement of fighters out to scout ahead. I won’t leave the station defenseless, if the First Order does attack Eshan will need every ship available. Most of the defense fleet won’t be back for a few days.”

“Then I would advise that the hyperspace capable fighters from Pride should be sent immediately. Probe droids would be good too, and a central staging site for recovery ships to go to should be set up.” Tank suggested matter-of-factly, acting in his capacity as a military advisor. “Do we happen to have a medical frigate or similar ship that could act as that staging area?”

“No,” He shook his head as he stepped off the trolley onto the platform, pulling out his datapad and sending out the orders as he did so. “No, we’ve a few shuttles, but the Vision can act as a central loading and relay site since it’s got the hangar bays.” He finished with the datapad, and slipped it back in his jacket. “The fighters will sortie within a few minutes, we’ll still need some time to get medical equipment onto the Lining. We have the cargo we were going to move for the clients in the Belshar sector, I’ll reimburse them if I need to, with interest. It’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll get the ship ready then.”

Vincent nodded, and let Tank move on past him into the docking umbilical as he closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his commlink, shifting his frequency to Callista. “Callista, I want you to put out a job posting, 10,000 credits flat fee, half percent bonus per head. Bounty is for live survivors of Hosnian. Work with the crew of the Vision to get coordinates for drop off. Note this is a Humanitarian mission.”

“Acknowledged sir. I’ll transfer over to the Vision to facilitate payment on arrival and processing.” The woman confirmed before the comms went off. Taking a deep breath Vincent turned and stepped into the umbilical himself. Switching over to the ship and inter-ship comms he spoke.

“All Hands, we will be leaving shortly for the edge of the Hosnian system, where we will facilitate humanitarian aid to any and all survivors. You will all be compensated hazard pay, due to the likelihood that the system is unstable. Furthermore we will be contracting freelancers for the duration of this operation, they will be coordinating with the Vision of Confluence and her crew. As usual be on your best behavior, smile, and keep an eye on the valuables.”

By the time Vincent had entered the ship's bridge, the crew had pretty much gotten their acts together. Mostly. There was still a significant amount of rushing around, but they focused on their immediate tasks, getting the ship's systems ready. In the single pilot's seat, Tank was seated, going through the check lists with well practiced speed. “Reactor system coming up to full, engines warmed up and in standby, sensors cycling...ready. Hyperdrive ready, weapons and shields charged and green. Run navicomputer, set the drop for one light minute outside the Hosnian system.” He intoned, hands flipping switches and making adjustments as the ship took on a pre-launch rumble, audibly signaling its readiness. Other crew responded to the redheads commands without question.

“Running calculations now.”

“Sensor cluster two just shut down. Resetting.”

“Repulsorlifts ready.”

Tank glanced back over his shoulder to Vincent and gave a nod, essentially returning control of the bridge back to its master, before turning back to his controls, now setting things up the way he preferred.

“Engineering to bridge, I can give you extra reactor power and speed when we get there if we shut down some of the life support in the more unnecessary areas of the ship.”

“Place the extra power into shields, in case there is radiation.” Vincent moved to the center of the bridge, turned his chair a bit to the side and took a seat. “However we may need to start putting the injured in those areas so be ready to put power back into them at a moment's notice.” He tapped the consoles in the chair’s arm to bring down a status display from above. “If we need to we can pull power from the turbolasers, if we get attacked by anything I doubt it’ll be bigger than a starfighter. Alright, give me a Go, No Go for launch. Operations?”

“Go.”

“Command and Control?”

“Go.”

“Medical?”

“Go.”

“Engineering?”

“Go.”

“Confirming all systems go.” He pressed another button on his controls. “Navigation you are go for launch.”

“Standby.” Tank flipped a few more switches, and the ships rumble grew stronger as the repulsorlifts activated underneath the bulk cruiser. “Detach umbilicals.” He called.

“Umbilicals detached.”

“Release docking clamps.”

“Clamps...released and retracting. We’re clear of the station.”

“Heading out. Get me a clearance lane.” Tank increased the power to the lifts, and the ship rose away from the bulk of the station, the landing struts retracting into the hull. The engine nozzles flared as the ship began to move forward, and then ponderously swing around towards open space.

A comm officer called out, “Station provides the following cleared lane for transit.”

On the HUD in front of Tank, a track appeared, and as the ship started to line up with it, he pushed the engine speed control forward, causing the ship to charge for the lane: some things could never be worked out, and Tank was still a starfighter pilot at heart. “Time till jump?”

“One minute ten.”

Tank activated a comm channel next to him. “All hands, prepare for the jump to lightspeed in one minute...mark.”

“All hands,” Vincent leaned back into his chair, “Be prepared for radiation, energy flares, and the possibility of hostiles. We’re going to make this clean, but our priority is to save people and get them, and ourselves, to Eshan safely. This is what we do, so let’s do it. Vincent out.”

They waited as the ship picked up speed and quickly moved past the other ships in the system, angling around to get a clear path. Tank glanced to the counter, watching as they drew closer to the edge of the planetary gravity well, and slowly reached forward towards the hyperspace controls, waiting...and then pulled them back with a series of clicks. Outside the viewport, the stars elongated towards them.
Those watching on the station saw the Silver Lining stretch and flicker briefly, before it jumped into hyperspace towards its destination, vanishing from sight followed shortly by two more ubiquitous triangular shapes of the Vision of Confluence and Spear of Naavala..

 

Adding this at the request of Sinre.

Sent from somewhere in the Middle Rim

 

7 BBY - They've Done This Before, They'll Do This Again

The man stood on the observation deck of the Heavy Cruiser, watching as the last remaining remnants of the former Empire limped out towards safe jumping coordinates. Beaten transports, stripped cruisers, all escorted by the mighty New Republic fleet, but it all felt hollow, it all felt, empty.

The man looked down at his hands, and remembered names. The names of others, the names of himself. He had been SG-B7936, then Vincent E of E Company, then High Inquisitor Victus. Now, he was just Victus, casting aside the number, the name, the title, for what he was. The Conqueror, of himself, of his freedom, of the life that had been taken from him. He’d conquered and won it all back, and yet, it still felt hollow.

“They’ll do it all again,” He said finally, looking up from the imaginary blood that stained his hands and watching the transports elongate out, snapping into hyperspace and off into the unknown regions. “Too many of the Old Guard remain, too many still with an inkling of power, of charisma, of the knowledge of Palpatine's secrets. They’ll come back, and they’ll do it all again. This ‘Galactic Concordance’ means nothing.”

“Indeed,” said another figure standing besides Victus, the sound of leather rubbing together present as he clenched a fist, “I have a bad feeling about this…”

He knew the weight of the words Victus had just spoke to be absolutely correct. He had once been one of the Emperor’s closest advisors. He was once known as Kev-Mas Colcha, Emperor’s Hand. While his obedience to the Emperor was locked in by force, tied to an object that no longer has any power over him he still had immense knowledge of the inner workings of the Empire that few men, even survivors of the Emperor’s inner circle could even fathom having in their possession. If there was anyone who knew exactly what the remnants of the Empire would do next it was him, and Victus had just said exactly what that was.

“This legacy, the one we build, I fear it will not be enough to stem the tide when they do return. We’re just one group of people, trying to keep the legacy of the Shadow Guard alive.” He let out a breath, which turned into a sigh. “Two years ago, when we broke from the Empire, I never imagined we’d get this far. I imagined we’d make out a life, not, see an empire broken. We prepared for that, but not for this. We need to go about making sure that the future is to be protected, that our Legacy does not die. The Shadow Vanguard is part of that, but it is a part I feel is best left to you.”

“And what then will you do?” replied Kev-Mas, eyeing Victus with curiosity, “You still have just as much reason to be invested in that legacy as I do.” Kev-Mas then redirected his gaze to the crewmen aboard the Heavy Cruiser, then back to Victus and he continued, “Why is it that you feel that this responsibility is best left to me, rather than all of us together?”

“Because we cannot put all our efforts into one single thing.” He continued to look out the observation window, most of the Imperial refugees were gone now, only a few stragglers remained, defiant to the end. “You know as well as I, that my former Brothers and Sisters are not all gone. The Inquisitorius remains, and I have no doubt many of them are one some of those ships. There is no Jedi Order to speak of, there is nothing to counter them should they rise to power. I know their ways. I know more about the Dark Side and the ways of the Inquisitors than anyone within the New Republic, short of perhaps you. I need to pass that on, to those who could use it to counter their return. The Vanguard are warriors but they are not Force Users… but, I know of a place where my teachings might be of use, even if they themselves cannot use the Force. I have put it off for too long, focused my mind on this war, and the Vanguard, but it is time. I must go to Eshan.”

Kev-Mas nodded in confirmation, “You make a fair point, brother.” The former Emperor’s Hand then turned his gaze to the ground and opened a telepathic link with Vincent to continue. Obviously what he was about to say had to be spoken with utmost discretion.“And when you speak of use of the Force, I am reminded of a revelation I have discovered recently. I may have come across a vergence in the Force. Now I know what you’re probably thinking now but it’s not the case. No, I’m not asking you to go out on another journey with me, not yet. Quite frankly I’m not even sure if what I’ve discovered is even possible, so I need a fair bit of time to meditate on it in private. But I’ve been searching for a greater destiny for quite some time now, ever since after the Emperor died and I think I might finally be onto something. I also think that this might be something you would be interested in once the time comes, and if I assume correctly the secrets this holds might be of interest to just about any trained force user in search of greater knowledge.”

Kev-Mas then observed the last straggler leave the system, and continued his telepathic message.

“So the only thing I ask you is that we stay in contact. When the time comes… if it comes, rather, I would like to train you in the ways of whatever it is I may have discovered.”

“You will always know how to find me.” The Echani replied, placing a hand on his friends shoulder. “Of that, you can always be assured.”

“I knew that... how could I forget,” replied Kev-Mas with a chuckle.

“Old age.” He patted him one last time before placing his hands back behind his back. “This is a calm, before a greater storm. I know it. I know it in my bones, every fiber of my being, not just the Force.” He took in a breath, “Let us hope we’ll weather it.”

“Stang…” muttered Kev-Mas under his breath, “I guess that’s why what we’re doing is so important. I don’t have much time before I’ve come to the point where I’ve no longer got any more fight left in me. The Force can provide me some more time, but I’m afraid that I’m still a mere mortal.”

“Which is why my dear friend, our Legacy is so important.”

(Note: Written with user Kev-Mas_Colcha)

 

Middle Rim, 3 months after Endor
2 light hours Galactic North of the Ly’che System
Middle Rim, Commonwealth of the Six Sisters
Echani Sector

Smuggling was always an adaptive career, the sort of job you took if you were flexible and able to adapt to the current state of affairs in the galaxy. The old bulk cruiser Silver Lining has passed through many hands over several generations. When it passed into the hands of it’s current captain, it’s life began anew as a blockade runner, punching through Separatist lines along with other ships, civilian and republic. They hauled medical supplies, food stuff, advisor personnel.

Then the issuance of a New Order came about.

There was a transitional period, where smugglers pretty much retreated to the Outer Rim. Business was tough, but as one of the largest smuggling rigs in current operation, the Silver Lining and her crew always found work. Ore, Weapons, occasionally they even ignored the better part of their principles and hauled spice. Risk of hunger and starvation had a way of making people amicable to doing things that they otherwise wouldn’t want to do.

Then slowly, it began to build up. First it was insurgence. Some Mandalorians, a few CIS holdouts, but then more, and more. Rebel Cells, terrorists by the Imperials meaning, freedom fighters by the average person under heel. It wasn’t long before they needed help. Credits were light, but they were enough, and putting a hurt on the Empire had a habit of satiating ones hunger, if only a little. More and more the crew of the Silver Lining began pushing back into the Galaxy proper hauling everything from spare fighter parts to a herd of nerf at one point.

Life was good.

Now the Empire was on the backstep. Endor had happened, and the snake had lost it’s head. The Rebellion had gone on and proclaimed itself a New Republic, it pushed more and more of the Empire back every day, but that meant battles, that meant losses, that meant planets and their people suffered. And that meant the needed relief.

That meant work.

The Lining at the moment, sat near motionless, in the vast void between the Galaxy whole and the Ly’che system, an Echani agricultural planet that produced everything from Echani Red Tea to their own unique variation the ubiquitous tuber. And the planet had suffered the harshest of all the Echani worlds, farms destroyed, homes displaced, all to rip up the ground for resources.

And the Silver Lining’s captain had something of a softspot for his people.

A cargo platter slipped out of the Lining’s open hold, a cargo handler carefully maneuvering it from the maw of one ship, to the waiting one of another, an old Echani Cruiser. Farm Equipment, soil scrubbers, fertilizer. 150,000 metric tons of farm building equipment and supplies was all but finishing being transported. The captain understood of course, his people were proud, and stubborn, they’d rather see an old Echani Military ship swoop in and save the day, than a smuggler, even one of their own.

He got it, it was the way of things, he was ok with it.

So, he sat quietly in his office, watching the status reports, when his console began beeping. Communication, secure channel, an old smuggler frequency, a subspace line bounced off hypercoms, extending the range but not in an obvious manner. Raising an eyebrow, he reached out and tapped the accept button, and slowly the hologram of a woman appeared.

“Muri.” The hologram started, with something of a smile.

“Imra.” The Echani leaned forward, arm resting on the desk, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You owe Han Solo.” Well, that wasn’t technically true. Muri had never met the man. Heard of him of course, who hadn’t, but owe? “We got some intel.” The hologram shifted to a planet, not one he knew however. “This is the Wookiee homeworld Kashyyyk, normally the place is locked down tighter than a Chandrilan Nobel’s chastity belt, but for a while, a very short while. Ships are going out, and they’re not immediately getting replaced.”

“I follow,” And he did, to a point. As an Echani he knew enough basics about military doctrine to understand that there was probably some sort of ‘Changing of the Guard’ going on and that the Empire wasn’t in a position to have the Change happen all at one time. “But what does this have to do with me, or Solo?”

“Well, as you well know Solo’s partner in crime is one of the few liberated Wookiees in the galaxy right now. Han owes that Wookiee a lot, a lot of us smugglers do, so, we’re going to take advantage of this situation.” The hologram shifted back to Imra, “We’re going to help liberate the Wookiee homeworld. Solo wanted me to contact everybody who has even the smallest gumption to take the hurt to the Empire and have them meet up at Warrin Station, and I know you have no love for them.”

No, he didn’t, there were still portions of that one Star Destroyer’s bridge sitting on his trophy shelf to remind him, pulled out of the front of the cruiser from when they plowed through it, making the armored prow live up to its name ‘rampart.’ “Well, you’re right there,” he looked down at his cargo schedule, that was still slowly being updated. “Look, I still got a couple of hours here off loading cargo, I can’t just up and drop it, people need it. So I’ll be late to this party, but I will be there.”

“I knew you would be,” The hologram flickered and then faded away, and Muri leaned back into his chair, letting out a sigh. He picked up his cup of now cold tea and downed it before reaching out and tapping the comm panel on his desk. “Sheero, it’s Muri.”

“What can I do for you Cap?”

“I want you to start plotting as fast a course as you can to Warrin Station, minimal amount of jumps, maximum lightspeed variable. And tell the guys down in the Cargo hold to speed up the processes as fast as they safely can.”

There was a pause, “Can do sir. It’ll take us probably six, maybe seven hours to get there once we’re off. There a reason we’re going out that close to Imperial held territory?”

“Yeah… We’re gonna help Han Solo settle a life debt.”