Star Wars Star Wars: After the Awakening

IC: Susulur Dha'tra
Med Bay, Rosa traveling the hyperspace lanes

Twinges are one of the hardest things not to do. The med droids could monitor his breathing and his heart pulsating to move either in time with or in the still gaps between breath motions. At first he had tried to ignore what was happening, what he had asked to be done, an elective, voluntary changing of his being. The smell of his own flesh being charred by the laser scalpel was not so bad the second time around, he knew what to expect.

Like the smell of a beast set to roast over an open flame that just starting to cook a little too long by the flames, with just a tinge of something antiseptic that had been sprayed to clean the area first vaporizing to mix in the smoke that his helmet did not mark as toxic enough to be filtered out of his breathing air supply. He had stood in battle fields and fried others with his blaster, he had cut beings in twain with plasma and lasers. Yet this was different, because there was no cloth burning, no vegetation, no alien odors in this sterile room, nothing the scent of his own flesh roasting.

Then it had begun, the jabbing sawing motion of what he was certain was a blunt instrument inserted through the wound. Intermittently the droids would pause, spread him wide and using the laser scalpel as a cauterizing tool burn closed any arteries, veins or large capillary beds that started to bleed. Adding the tang of his crisped blood to the already nauseating odors and the odd sensation of seeing something jabbing into his bodies core with seeming abandon that only a medical droid could do. . .and so he twinged.

The droids paused.

He paused.

Then the droids resumed, he tried to focus on the meeting as the droids cauterized more bleeders from his action, then sprayed something cold and chilling inside the pocket they were weaving into his body. When the nursing droid came forward with a stickily coated and curved item in its grasps he flinched again as they opened him and slowly approached.

He paused. Holding his breath.

The droids did not pause, they merely slowed. Pushing it into him, into a socket they had made where his body never had an opening to begin with. A fresh spray, one. . .two. . .a rubbing motion of his body that sent daggers of pain deep beyond the reach of the mild anesthetics that numbed the surface of himself and his 'pocket'. Then the singular command as he tried to focus on the words of Solo.

"Breath."

Whoosh. Out, in, and then the sprays resumed. A smoldering patch of synthflesh was laid over the wound. Seemingly burning and melting itself into his being he knew that shortly he would not even have a scar by the implant.

"Your body will be completely healed by morning. A med droid will come to check on you then. Bed rest for the next few days and take it easy for the next two weeks. Although you will be fully functional it is still a shock to your system sir." the skull faced droid stated in the infamous tones of the 2-1B's that littered the galaxy.

"Right." he simply stated as he lay there a moment longer. Solo might have a more precise location for where Snoke is headed. Interesting. "Help me back into my armor."

"Sir you need to take it easy, I would not advise. . ."

The droid came up short as Susulur raised a hand, "I cannot take it easy without my armor. Either fit me back or I will do so myself with harsher results on your work."

"Very well sir. I am listing this as against medical protocol and recommendations."

"You do that." he simply replied as he opened a speaker to broadcast from his ship. Hopefully it wouldn't scare the lady on the catwalk below and near his ship too much. He had not seen her look up yet to take stock of her surroundings fully. {"Although I agree Solo your thoughts bare merit we should at least check Esfandia before proceeding further. As one of the few established Holonett relays into the Unknown regions, a First Order presence would not only be likely to be large, but could be the first stationary safe harbor Snoke knows of in his plans for conquest."}

TAG: Sinrebirth, HanSolo29, @Kahn_Iceay; @Sinrebirth; @galactic-vagabond422; @Ktala

 

Belila Gambros (Bre)
Aboard the Millennium Falcon, wherever it was


Bre sat quietly, crouched down, while she watched activities from afar. It was still too soon, to interact with all these people. She stayed hidden, crouched down while adjusting the goggles covering her eyes. She didnt know what was going on, not that it really mattered. She just wondered if she could get something to eat.

As Bre sat quietly with Fred, she heard the accoustic sounds of a speaker being turned on. And it was close. And LOUD. {"Although I agree Solo your thoughts bare merit, we should at least check Esfandia before proceeding further. As one of the few established Holonett relays into the Unknown regions, a First Order presence would not only be likely to be large, but could be the first stationary safe harbor
Snoke knows of in his plans for conquest."}

Bre winced slightly, as she looked to see what ship was broadcasting. Was the person inside? She looked around and up, suddenly realizing some folks might be looking in her direction. She continued to look for the ship broadcasting. It was a neat trick. She wondered is she could do that with her bike.

Bre refused to think of the comments the voice made. Because that would mean having to think about HIM, and it was far too early for that. They were planning to persue? Didnt they know a wounded animal was often much more deadlier to deal with, especially if it felt like it was being cornered? Bre shuddered.

Nope.

She refused to think about that now. The Unknown regions. She had spent quite a few years there. Hidding. Try to survive. Not a pleasant memory. After working so long, to earn passage to get away from that area of space, it seemed she was destined to head right back into it. Bre frowned darkly. Right now, she focused on waiting till the others began to move, before she would attempt to hunt down some place to grab some food. One thing at a time.

Yep.



TAG: Sinrebirth, galactic-vagabond422, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay, @Mitth-Fisto

 

IC: Myna'vera
En Route to Chandrila

“I’m jumpy because there’s a Ryn on my ship when there’s not supposed to be.” Myna replied as she headed towards the galley, a location that he obviously had been before, since he was leading the way. “And in answer to your sort-of-question, I’m doing both, though I hope this job might get me some help with my problem.”

“I’m pretty positive that you were Jumpy before I showed up, but that’s just my humble opinion.” He let out a gleeful ‘ah’ as he found a disposable cup, and a caf-pod for the brewer sitting on the counter top. “So rather than running from a problem you’re running towards it, not sure that really constitutes me sharing my name, I’ll have to ponder that one. After all what’s it matter, I’m only going to be getting out of your hair once we get where we going, that is what you want yes?”

“At the moment, yes. My past has led to me not trusting people further than I can throw them, and at the moment, I can’t throw you very far…” Myna replied, moving to sit on one of the lounge benches. She wasn’t ready to reveal that she was force sensitive to him, though she had a feeling that he knew already. And that unfortunately would make her answering his question more difficult. “So…”

“That makes me feel somewhat offended, as though you’re saying that I’m heavy or something.” He placed the cup under the dispenser and settled the pod in it’s port before letting the brewer do it’s thing. “Not that my wounded feelings mean much. No, soon as I’m off you’ll forget all about little old me, easy to forget about us Ryn, it’s easy then to understand how we know so many things, people over look us, yet we’re everywhere.”

Myna groaned mostly to herself, she hadn’t meant it like that, but of course he didn’t know what was actually bothering her, which was the basis of what she had meant. “You never know, you might make an impression. Well, a better one than the one I already have.”

The Ryn gave a shrug, as he stood there waiting, moving back and forth on the balls of his feet as he took in the aroma of the caf being brewed. “Making impressions however isn’t something I overly do very frequently. I generally try to be ignored ya know? Made an exception for you and you shot me.”

Myna sighed again, and laid down on the bench. “I have trust issues, I’m sorry. Besides, you put a restraining bolt on my droid, I feel like you deserved it.”

“Bolt didn’t even work.” He gave a shrug, “But to be fair, usually we have to actually do something like that to avoid getting shot, we’re not exactly a well liked species you know?” The caf finished brewing and the Ryn took time to carefully dispose of the pod, being sure to leave no mess, before taking the cup and just sort of, breathing it in. “I haven’t had a good cup of Caf in months.”


“Been busy?” It was an innocent enough question, but she sort of regretted asking it, because she knew she was unlikely to care once he was gone.

“Always.” The answer was just as enigmatic as one should have expected.

“So busy you couldn’t stop and make a cup of caf?” She thought to herself. No one was that busy, and if you were, then you probably drank way too much caf, or none at all… “Not that I expect you to answer, but what interest do you have in Chandrila? Whatever it is, must be important…”

“I already said I couldn’t tell you, otherwise I would tell you.” He finally took a sip, savouring the moment. “In short tho, I’ve been too busy and in places too far away from a decent market to get any caf.”

“Sorry.” Was all she replied with. To both his statements though. “I don’t know how much sleep you’ve gotten lately, but I think I’m going to go find my bed. Help yourself to whatever food my droid procured if you get hungry, just save me some for later” Myna added, slowly sitting up, and then taking a moment to steady herself from the momentary dizziness.

The Ryn watched her momentary stumble and then raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to say anything, really wasn’t, but he just shook his head and let out a sigh. “Try and find a Taozin amulet… wear it, and keep one of your little lizard friends near.” He pulled a small amulet out of from behind his shirt and pointed to it. “After all… you didn’t know I was around till it was too late…” He gave a bit of a tilt to his head, “I did say I read your cards… didn’t I?”

“That you did, that you did…” Myna replied, getting up slowly and then exiting the galley. Dee beeped a question at her as she passed by. “No, leave him be.”

The droid continued standing guard, while Myna continued to her cabin, she felt exhausted, nearly falling as she passed through the doorway. Luckily the room was small and she caught herself on the bed she was destined for. After a moment the nausea faded, and she climbed onto the bed and passed out…

-----

Untold hours later, Myna re-awakened. Marginally better rested, yet still very tormented by whatever machinations were assaulting her in the Force. Her varied cries and whimpers in her sleep, a testament to the fact that she was still suffering.

She was covered in a layer of sweat, and only after she had found a towel nearby to dry her face did she hear the alarm that one of the droids must’ve set for her, likely to tell her that they would be exiting hyperspace shortly. Hopefully long enough for her to take a shower...

Tag: Sinrebirth

OOC: Ryn written by Kahn_Iceay, with permission from Sin

 

IC: Rhoen Aquilla
Hangar, Rosa, Yavin

"If I may." The Zabrak, Argen, Rhoen remembered spoke up rasing his hand in much the same way the young pilot had. "First I’d like to say it’s good to see you Generals." He made a gesture to Leia and 'Han'. The captain had to bite his tongue, he knew the man he just called General wasn't really deserving of the rank but, they had to keep up the charade. But, by measures, he was slowly becoming more and more like the famous smuggler, or at the very least Rhoen's image of him based on his mother's descriptions. "I doubt you remember me, the Alliance was a big place, but I certainly remember you." The young pilot wondered if this would be another person that would mention his mother being proud of him. "Second, as I mentioned in my brief transmission earlier I had been shadowing the Imperial Taskforce I came out in front of for some time."

Argen continued talking about the transmissions he intercepted. They were long range something that shouldn't be possible with the Holo-net down, unless they'd set up some sort of network. This reminds Rhoen that he couldn't contact his home, couldn't reach his father. The distance between them now was massive, and maybe that was for the best. He wouldn't have to see his father's face when he told him that his wife, Rhoen's mother, was gone. The ship's captain continued making mention of the hidden network and the lengths the First Order must have gone through to hide their tracks. Also that the transmissions were encrypted, typical.

"I’ve an Astromech, and I see you’ve one as well." Rhoen looked to 'Ace' on the other side of the hangar. "They’re notorious for their ability to overcome the odds in times of need. While we still have some time, I might ask that we task them with sifting through the data, we might find ourselves with an advantage if we do."

"'Ace' might be able to help with that." Rhoen called out, "I've only met them a few hours ago but, they've been a great help to me."

"I might have something more direct," 'Han' announced, "It likely won’t contain all the techno babble you’re looking for, but it might give us a location. Beyond Esfandia, I mean." Rhoen's attention turned to the older man, he was looking at General Organa-Solo. Something on his face looked pained. "Before all hell broke loose around Yavin, I received an encrypted message from my daughter out in the Unknown Regions. She was out there on some personal Jedi fact-finding pilgrimage or…whatever…"

Daughter, Jaina Solo, another member of the legacy club, though she has trice the weight as he does. Daughter of the galaxy's greatest smuggler, and its greatest leader, it also doesn't help that she's niece to the greatest Jedi of his generation. What kind of weight must she be under? His mother told him stories of the Solo family, the first family of the galaxy, strong in the force, some of the best pilots in the New Republic.

What must it have been like to grow up in such a house, knowing that your parents were legends in their own right? It was different for him, he never saw his mother as the great pilot, the fearless leader of Corona Squadron. She was just his mom, the woman that would tell him bedtime stories of the great battles, of Yavin, of Endor, of Courscant. The woman that taught him how to fly and showed him that the galaxy was bigger than the farm he grew up on. That's why he's so surprised at how many people knew her, respected her, because to him, she was just his mom.

"Although I agree Solo," A voice boomed though the hangar, "your thoughts bare merit we should at least check Esfandia before proceeding further. As one of the few established Holonett relays into the Unknown regions, a First Order presence would not only be likely to be large, but could be the first stationary safe harbor Snoke knows of in his plans for conquest."

Rhoen's countenance changed slightly he did not relish the thought of facing the First Order again, not so soon. He gave another look to Lysa, still feeling the fatigue in his muscles. He would most defiantly need a rest before getting back into a fighter. He put his head back letting out a breath. He hoped this meeting would be over soon, it was getting harder to keep his eyes open.

TAG: Sinrebirth, Ktala, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Argen
Rosa, hangar bay

Argen almost visibly winced at the sound coming from the ship, he guessed it was the fellow in the Med Bay, a Mandalorian he assumed from all the armor he'd seen. He then almost winced from the mans idea. "I would normally not be adverse to the idea our remote broadcasting friend suggest, this ship is equipped with very high quality signal jammers and able to go into silent running very easily and effectively, but there is one small problem." He let out a breath, "While this ship is more than capable of moving around without the First Order detecting her, we now have a YT-1300 freighter strapped to our dorsal docking port. That extra mass on the hull completely alters the mass signature of this ship, and with it being damaged it might very well cause unexpected and unregulated energy leaks." He crossed his arms and gave Han a side glance, knowing the captain wouldn't like what he was about to suggest. "If we want to investigate the Esfandia system we're going to need to drop out well outside the system, and leave the Falcon for us to retrieve later. If I recall Esfandia has no other planetary bodies, not even a star. So there are no objects in system we can use to mask ourselves with the falcon present. Though there is an alternative."

Argen turned his attention now to the Star Courier that sat like a the Elephoth in the room it was. Veedo noticed this and immediately whistled loudly, talking about how the ship had started to power up on its own and how he had to pull the main power and wipe the computer core before reinstalling a standard OS. And by standard he meant the same one on the Silent Reaper that sat docked on the underside of the ship. "What my little friend here is trying to say is he's done some repairs to this ship, after it appeared it and it's original droid companion tried to hijack this starship and then bolt. And this ship," Argen held up his wrist comm, which had the command codes that he certainly hoped Veedo had reauthorized. Tapping a few commands he watched, and waited as the ship slowly shimmered, and faded from view. "This ship, has a cloaking device."

"Additionally the Rosa has a secondary craft docked along the ventral section of the ship, some of you may have seen it on your way in. Its an Arakyd Industries Stalker-class Light Interceptor called the Silent Reaper, I've had that ship for over 30 years. It's no Millennium Falcon but she's a solid ship with some stealth systems of her own and other mods, but nothing as fancy as this Star Courier here. I recall one of you mentioning handing a ship off, that might not be necessary, though I assure you if you get my baby destroyed and somehow come back to life I'll kill ya."

Tag: galactic-vagabond422 Sinrebirth Ktala HanSolo29 Mitth_Fisto

 

Belila Gambros (Bre)
On a Ship she knows nothing about, 'cept its connected to the Falcon


Bre could hear the discussions going around the area, but it was pretty much all over Bre's head. She didnt understand, and really didnt want to understand it all. All she really wanted to do, was to find sompelace where she could get some food, and a place to properly crash. As if to agree, her stomach growled loudly. Bre felt the heat in her cheeks rise, even as Fred gave a small questioning bleep. Bre laughed softly. "Yeah, I know, sounds horrible dont it? But Im hungry." She told him with a small grin. Then she looked back out, into the area. "Hey Fred, you got any blueprints for this kinda ship on your data chips? Or something close, so we can find some food around here?"

Fred was silent except for a soft whirling sound, as he double-checked his data-banks. He gave a soft bleep. He didnt have anything for this exact ship, but he did have something for a ship of similar design. Fred also informed Bre that he could probably get within a 95 percent probablilty of leading them to the galley. He also mentioned his sensors could most likely pick the oder of the humanoid foodstuffs. Bre grinned. "Lead the way."

Bre began to follow Fred, as the winded their way down, avoiding the othes while they went hunting for something to eat. Fred was rather glad to see her acting more like her old self, and if food is what she needed, then food was what he was going to find for her.




TAG: Sinrebirth, galactic-vagabond422, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay, @Mitth-Fisto

 

IC: Argen
Rosa, Hangar

“Think of it as borrowing,” Argen replied to Damask before he ventured off to help people. “And the interest rate is how long we can use it to stay alive in this mess.” With that, the Muun wandered off to help people around the ship. Argen for his part unlocked a few more quarters, in case anyone needed them, before stepping over to stand by the Scimitar, where the General stood.

“I don’t trust how convenient this all is, Argen. You and the Rosa, and your little cloaked ship.” The general spoke, and she was tired, she’d always been tired in the Rebellion, Argen remembered that. “Sell it to me, because I’m not seeing the whole picture.”

“I don’t trust how convenient it is either General.” The man crossed his arms with something of a sigh. “It was the last system, with one last jump before Yavin. The Imperial forces were gathering, getting ready to jump. I intended to jump ahead of them, and alert you and your forces, when I received a tight beam transmission. ‘In cloaked ship, can’t decloak, yadda yadda yadda’. Played on my good nature I’m sure. Thing is, ship could decloak soon as it was onboard. And my droid found very little keeping it from doing what it’s seemingly built to do. Then there was the droid.”

“What’s that Protocol droid you used to always have with you? C-3P0? Similar model, called C-3PY, even had a black misshapen Y on his head… and blasters in his fingers, and Force knows what else. Tried to shoot me in order to keep me from broadcasting the information we sent you guys. Then there was what my droid said, that the ship had attempted an auto-start sequence after getting some sort of signal. The Coincidence I think is not a coincidence.”

“Not a very good salesman am I?” He let his arms slump, and then finally pulled a small folded device out of a pouch on his belt. Unfolding it he cupped it to the side of his head, securing it there as a translucent screen lit up in front of his right eye. “However, I’ve dealt with these sort of things before. Running courier and freight has you dealing with shady characters. The Primary computer core has been wiped and replaced with my own personal OS. The Silent Reaper has security programs that can actually disable a droid if it’s physically connected to the ship without authorization. The secondary cores have been disconnected, and the sub-system control matrix was reset to the factory defaults for the Reaper and adjusted. Veedo was thurough.”

“It does leave a problem with Damask, he wants to stay on the ship… I say we let him. But, I’m going to have all the controls routed to the main bridge consoles, then have the other consoles shut down, and the bridges force fields activated, and decompressed. My Co-Pilot’s a droid so she’ll be fine and Damask can’t try anything.” He paused, and saw the look the General was giving him. “Ship this big, moving the people I move, sometimes someone is actually a pirate, I got those systems in place to deter hijackers. I didn’t survive the Rebellion and the near 3 decades that followed by not being paranoid.”

Tag: Sinrebirth (and others who may stick around and listen)

 

IC: Sava Boutros
Battle of Ord Mantel

Sava watched as Phasma and Hidax took out two Mandos. There was a third who was coming at her and she brought her blaster up to shoot him. She pressed the trigger expectantly but there was no bolt that was released. She threw it aside and grabbed her dagger from her sleeve. Aiming carefully, she threw it with a flick of her wrist. Sava saw it go straight into his throat. As he collapsed, choking, Sava walked over and grabbed his blaster. Quite a beauty, she marveled. Putting it in her holster, she looked around and saw scattered bodies everywhere. The smell of blood was strong. Sava wiped her forehead to clear the sweat and realized that some of the smell was her. Oh, if they ever got off this cursed planet, she would take a nice, long sonic. She brushed off her hands on her pants and prepared to either die with the explosion or get orders from Phasma to leave.

Tags: Sinrebirth, Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Rhoen Aquilla
Hangar, Rosa, Hyperspace

Rhoen half paid attention to the conversation around him. Argen mentioned that the Falcon threw off the Rosa’s sensor signature, something that this cruiser could hide with signal jammers. The young pilot gave half a thought to seeing about putting some on his and Lysa’s fighters. That would be nice being able to hide then strike. Just like the old days of the rebellion, hit and fade. Unfortunately the time crunch and lack of proper maintenance facilities made that just a dream.

A droid started whistling loudly, pulling Rhoen’s attention, "What my little friend here is trying to say," The ship’s captain translated, "is he's done some repairs to this ship, after it appeared it and its original droid companion tried to hijack this starship and then bolt. And this ship," The pilot nodded his head a little, eyes drooping a little. They snapped open as the Star Courier disappeared from sight. "This ship, has a cloaking device." Why did everyone else get the cool toys. He looked over to his busted X-wing, wires hanging out from the void left by the missing wing, letting out a sigh, maybe it wasn’t about the tech but, dependability. If they’d somehow put a cloaking system in his fighter, would it have been usable after taking so much damage.

Argen mentioned another ship attached to the belly of the Rosa,

'Well,' Rhoen thought, 'isn’t this fortuitus, a stealth ship and another ship, tell me Mr. Argen you wouldn’t happen to have a superlaser in your back pocket, cause that would make my life really simple.' He let his head roll back as Fett began talking, something about Goran giving up his craft to Genkal or some such.

"We're on the insertion team." the Mandalorian continued, "I'd suggest Susular, Rhoen and Lysa on the distraction team," The pilot brought his head back up at the mention of his name. He took a few moments to process what was said, a difficult thing with his mind clouded with fatigue, and nodded his head. If he was joining this team, yeah, he was a better pilot than a soldier but, he wasn’t sure who this Susular was, maybe one of the Mandos.

'Great,' his internal monologue picked up, 'Now I have to deal with a bounty hunting Mando, how much you want to bet they’re going to go off on their own at the first opportunity.'

The conversation continued around the two pilots Rhoen fighting to keep his eyes open, the General Organa-Solo spoke,

"But we can talk more, when Susular isn't on a surgery board, and Rhoen and Lysa have had some rest. Everyone could do with some rest."

"Seconded," He called out throwing his hand up into the air. Leia moved over to the cloaked ship, staring daggers at Argen and Demask. The Munn came over to the two exhausted pilots directing them to a bunk. Finally some sleep. The door opened revealing a room with a single double bed. Before Rhoen could say anything he was hushed by the lanky being. He turned to look at Lysa as she bit her lip, he swallowed hard, this was awkward.

"Do you think we can rest and chat?" A weak laugh left Rhoen's chest, yes chat that's what they were here to do. Demask excused himself leaving the two alone. Lysa’s gaze next fell on the shower, "Um, you first? Me first?" The way her voice trailed off set his mind on fire. There was a third option, and that option caused his heart to jump into his throat. Part of him wanted to suggest it, a cocky grin on his face, like some rouge in a holo, or Han Solo himself. There were so many wires crossed in his fatigue addled mind, he could barely think, much less make words. The thought of being that… close to her, was intoxicating, and dangerous. His head was a little light, his face a little flushed, turning a lovely shade of pink.

He looked away trying to hide his embarrassment; "Uh…" he let the word hang there as he tried to push thoughts of Lysa from his mind just to get some words out. Eventually his head cleared just enough for him finish his thought. He turned to her, grin pulling at the corner of his mouth,

"Ladies first." The words out of his mouth his legs wobbled a bit, telling him to move to the bed, now. He took only as much time as it took to strip off his boots before flopping face down on one side of the bed. This was a much less embarrassing position given his current state. He closed his eyes seeing images of Lysa in his mind. He shook his head trying to banish the thoughts away but, she was so close to him, so tempting. He forced his mind to something else, it fell upon his mother. The late nights they'd spend looking up at the stars. He recalled pointing at a star, asking,

"And that one?"

"Been there," she replied pulling him closer to her, her arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace against the cold night air.

"And that one?" He asked pointing at another twinkling light in Chandrila's sky.

"No but," she reached up putting her hand around his and moved his finger to another point in the inky blackness, "I've been there." Her breath brushed across his cheek eliciting a little giggle from the boy. It opened his eyes, showed him how big and just how small the galaxy was. Suddenly his mind showed him a different scene, one he wasn't there for, one of more recent history. It was his mom, in the cockpit of her X-wing, checking her sensors, looking out over Hosnian system and, stealing a glance at the holo on the right side. Her face darkened looking back at her sensors. He could see her mouth moving, calling out orders. A red light illuminated her space, highlighting the winkles on her weary face. She took one last look at the holo, reaching out her hand, Rhoen saw her mouth the words,

'I love you'

His eyes snapped open and he took a sharp breath. His heart was beating fast, ringing in his ears. Was that a vison, or just his imagination? Either way, he found it more difficult to rest now, his mind replaying what must have been his mother's final moments. Now he longed for the thoughts of Lysa, he needed to think about something else, anything else. Anything was better than remembering that the most important person in his world was gone.

Slowly he found himself curling up taking deep breaths. This would pass, maybe after a shower. His mind slowly moved back to a safe place, to the woman he'd met only a few hours ago. A new feeling welled up inside him, a warm one, almost scorching his chest. A cold shower, after a cold shower this would pass.

TAG: Sinrebirth, Ktala, HanSolo29, Mitth_Fisto, Kahn_Iceay

 

Belila Gambros (Bre)
Near the Falcon

There was a burst of soft static, and then noise which became words as they tried to plot what their next plan of action would be.Bre vaguely listened, the rumbles of her tummy, seemed a bit more important than what they were discussing. So many strange ships were parked around them, and Bre just hoped that these people were friendlies. Since she didnt see anything that would suggest
otherwise, Bre shrugged her shoulders as she listened to the talks. Her brain was still to fuzzy. And since she didnt fly a ship, it didnt really matter anyway. Fred and BB-8 seemed to be having quite a conversation, so much so, that she never noticed the other being approaching until he was literally next to her.

Kyp Durron had stuck his head into the doorway of the Falcon, looking at the damage. He whistled, and poor Bre nearly jumped. Fred's angry whistled, made Kyp back up slightly after nearly tripping over Fred. Kyp looked at her. "Oh yes, Bre. The Force user who can change." Bre tried not to flinch at that wording, but her eyes did narrow, as her stomach dropped. She quickly looked away, not sure how she should react. Then her stomach made another unprompted calling for food, and he spoke once.

"Come on," he smiled. Bre had already been ready to follow along with Fred, but she gestured to him, and then turned to follow Kyp back into the Falcon. She followed him down, looking to see where he was going, and it didnt take long to see that he had found the ships' galley. Looked like 'Pres..uh..Han', kept it stocked. Kyp starting moving things around, while Bre just sat down at a nearby table, sneaking looks at Kyp, when she wasnt looking at her fingers. It felt so awkward to her, but soon Bre's nose caught the smell of something really good cooking. And eyebrow went up. it went up even further, when she spied Fred and Kyp giving each other a look, and Fred moved off to do some repairs. Kyp handed out playes for five. Bre looked very confused, but said nothing, as she simply took one plate and sat back down at the table with her plate of food. The other plates, she sat around the table. She didnt even wait to see if there was any utensils to eat with, she was so hungry. So she simply used her fingers, while
she ate. It felt like it had been years since she had eaten a decent meal. And it tasted as good as it smelled. Bre gave a grateful smile.

As she munched on her foodstuff, She heard Kyp, as he spoke to her. "I think you owe me a story. Probably, knowing you, owe yourself a story." Bre didnt stop chewing, but she did slow down at his words. 'A story?' she thought. 'He was kidding, right?' But his other words had her mind whirling as well. 'Knowing me? Does he think he knows me?' She couldnt remember really speaking to him much back at the temple. She had seen him before.. but more than that, she coudlnt really be sure. Suddenly, that strange woman that she had seen on Yavin suddenly came to mind. Bre wondered why. Bre suddenly felt very awkward again. She had
not seen, much less spoke to another Force user in so many years. And a Master at that. She exhaled deeply. It was what she had been longing for, for a very long time. But under different circumstances.

"A story?" she echoed softly, as she slowly chewed the mouthful of food she had. She swallowed and slowly looked up. "It was very strange. After you and Qel-Droma..um, left, I kinda figured out that Snoke was there to stop another Sith, called Ku'ar Danar, and another one, who's lightsaber I borrowed to distract Snoke with, from obtaining whatever powers were in that stone in the temple, and I'm guessing the ceremony itself." Bre looked away for a moment, but then suddenly gave a wicked grin. "But it seems he wasnt ready for some old fashioned tactics. I cracked him in the ribs with some knuckles." The smile quickly faded. The food was helping, but now she was feeling slightly sleepy again. Bre shook her head, as she thought of events. "But what was very strange, was in that pit, just before that lightsaber ofQel-Droma's exploded, there was a very beautiful woman who just appeared out of nowhere." Bre described the woman as best as she could. The woman spoke to me. She said “Run.” She tole me that “Their time, has come and gone. That the future is in the hands of the young and the gifts, and curses we’ve left our future generations.” Bre shrugged her shoulders. " And then she stayed with Ulic, till the end..."

Bre stopped eating, looking down at the table, as she remembered that bit. She wondered who the woman was. She shook her head again, and took another bite of food. Were they friends? Companions? More? They were ancient, that she was sure of. But anything else, she could only guess. She gave a deep sigh.

"Then, stuff blew up, The pit blew up, I blew up, barely made it to my bike to get out of there, while getting slammed into the back of the Falcon. And then Mr. Ugly comes back for round two out of nowhere, trying to crash the entire ship, and throwing lighting around like.. well, LIGHTING!" Bre closed her eyes.

"So now, instead if just having to worry about normal folks killing me, I Now have a Sith who is promising me a very personal vivisection to look forward to, because he's never seen anyone 'like me', before."

Bre pushed what little of the food she had left away from her. This was not at all how she had wanted this to go. And she was fighting back the sudden urge to either cry or scream. She couldnt really decide which it felt like. "So now, my head hurts, I feel as ancient as Ulric claimed to be, I feel like now I can suddenly feel every karking life force on this ship, and I cant shut it off, or
meditate, like my natural abilities went into overdrive, and I had more people than I every wanted see me .. 'change.'

Bre laid her head down on the table. "How's THAT for a story?" she whispered softly, barely audible as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wasnt going to cry. Nope. Save that for when she was alone.


"I.. I was just tired of being alone." she muttered softly.



TAG: Sinrebirth, galactic-vagabond422, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Bruturus Hidax

Hidax flinched as a blaster shot snapped off next to his face, courtesy of the rattled Mandalorian he was tangling with. It was only for a moment that he was distracted, but it was long enough. A rifle butt met the chin of his helmet - not straight on but rather from the side, which was perhaps worse. It drove his helmet into the flesh of his mouth, and knocked it askew leaving him bloodied and blinded until he could right it.

But the former Captain had taken a kicking before, and toughness had been drilled into him since infancy. A simple disorienting blow to the face wouldn't send him stumbling. No, instead he stood solid as he rolled with the blow and bent forward to keep himself steady. Reaching out, he found the Mandalorian's midsection and wrapped tightly with his arms, straightening out of his crouch to lift his enemy clear off the ground. With brutal force he pushed off with his legs and torqued forward with his hips again as he released the Mandalorian, intending to slam him into the ground with force enough to knock him unconscious.

TAG: Halle Dray, Sinrebirth


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


IC: Kodo Prine (Combo with Sinrebirth)

The air went out of Kodo and he slumped back, catching himself with his palms and stirring about until he rest on his hands and knees. He took a breath and then sagged, and finally lay prone with his arms folded inward to hide his face. The outcome he had come to expect was decidedly harder to swallow as a hard reality. "I killed her," he said without looking up.

'No,' said Vos. 'Snoke killed her. I can see it now. He manipulated the vision of Kylo Ren. Your friend saw it, and intervened before he could hurt you... But Snoke wanted her, not you - he wanted her so he could break you at your psychological breaking point, the point where you were about to overcome your fear of Kylo Ren and heal.'

Vos sounded disgusted, angry, and saddened, all in one, visibly seeking to reacquire his calm. 'That woman lived, and died for you, all at once.'

"I don't even remember her name," Kodo replied, sitting up gingerly and covering his eyes with one hand. It was entirely reflexive, given that they were already obscured by his mask.

"Why does he want me?" he asked, "is one Kylo Ren not enough? And why would he expect me to be amiable to such a comparison?"

Vos seemed to become all the more calm. 'That question, I think - the second of the three - it is key. Perhaps he does not trust a Skywalker, after what happened with Vader. Do we have a leverage point there? But he is spending as much if not more effort on you.'

Their senses were suddenly challenged by a sense of darkness. It was as if they had fallen into arctic water, but at the same time it had more than one taste to it. One sense, Kodo would recognise as Snoke, but the other was a new one, and also not. An older sense.

Quinlan flicked his comm. 'Report.'

'We think there was a new arrival in-system, but it flickered out pretty quick. It could be Snoke and his cloak but I don't know what he senses like well enough.' Galen answered. His voice carried his frown. 'The other one feels familiar to me.'

'Ackbar is here. Should we alert him?' Juno piped up.

Quinlan looked to Kodo. 'Is it him? I am sure there is more than one darkness prodding at us. But I don't recognise them, at all, so I don't understand how Galen can one but not the other.'

Kodo shuffled with nervousness. "It's most definitely him," he said briskly. This sensation was far stronger than the holocron, or even Snoke's presence in the shadow world - but it was unmistakably Darth Plagueis. "As to the other... I've felt it before, but I can't place where. Whatever it is, it's dangerous."

For a moment Kodo thought again of the murder he was forced into committing on Dagobah. And then of the same he had done in the shadow world, to a man he didn't even know. A streak of indignance surged within Kodo at what seemed an incessant, never ending campaign by Plagueis to twist him into something uglier. He quieted, squashing his darkness and breathing deeply.

Quinlan caught that. 'Pride? But well met, Padawan.'

'Juno, use Galen's senses and tractor the shuttle. We'll go in, cold-shirt it across in suits and try and get a boarding seal otherwise.'

The aged Master paused. 'Do you want to confront him again, so soon? Can you?'

Kodo went stiff, and his face grew severe. "I can," he said with a rare certainty. "I want this over."

TAG: Sinrebirth

 

IC: Myna'vera
Chandrilan Space

The sudden, and just-a-few-moments-too-soon reversion from hyperspace meant that Myna very rapidly went from enjoying the perks of having a larger ship, and thus running water for a shower, to slamming her head into the bulkhead as she lost her footing. As she was picking herself up, Kate appeared and reported the situation. Myna offered no response the droid could detect other than waving Kate off. It took her a minute to regain her mental footing, but when she finally finished catching herself up, she quickly dressed and proceeded out of the ‘fresher.

Kate was waiting for her there, a datapad in her pincer. The R2 recapped what was happening, with emphasis on the fact that they were going to be boarded, while Myna took the pad and started loading the requested information onto it. Once she had finished she sent the data to the comm officer of the Awakening. It wouldn't give them much time to go over the data, but at least she had ‘complied'.

She wasn’t sure how long Kate had disappeared for, but the R2 had re-appeared with a sterile cloth, and twittered something about her forehead. The wound she had suffered pulsed painfully as she momentarily thought about face-palming, and then was immediately glad she didn’t, and instead slowly placed the cloth on her forehead. Of course, just about the time she did so the alarm for the airlock went off, and the outer door opened to admit the boarding party. The airlock only took a moment to cycle, before the gruff faces of Captain Hartwell and company were opening the inner door.

“Your papers are in order, but we’re still going to search the ship. Remain here please while these men do so.” The Captain ordered, motioning for 4 of the troopers to split off in pairs and search her ship. “Anything on board that we wouldn’t have already detected on scanners?”

“No... Just me, my droids, and the Ryn.” Myna replied, checking her bandage for a moment before replacing it on her forehead.

The Captain almost looked apologetic, as if he knew they were the reason for it, but instead elected to maintain an awkward silence until his team returned.

“Everything checks out sir, ship seems clean.” One of the troopers reported.

“Sorry about the delay, carry on captain.”

And with that, the group was gone, back through the airlock, and onto their ship.

Myna breathed a sigh of relief. Not that she was doing anything wrong, that she knew of, but the thought that maybe they would have found something offensive, just on a whim, was discomforting. Especially in the name of trying to find ‘Imperial Agents’.”

The Twi’lek slowly made her way to the cockpit, that the Ryn was for some reason, standing outside. Passing by him, she made ready to land, though she wasn’t quite sure where to do so yet. “Kate, open up that comm channel from the message. Get us some landing co-ordinates.”

The R2 warbled an affirmative as it passed into the cockpit a few moments later, purposely bumping into the Ryn as it passed by. Kate jacked into the comm console and did as instructed. A few more moments passed before it sent the requested coordinates to the pilot station, and Myna started their descent.

“I hope you didn’t have a different stop in mind" She tossed over her shoulder.

Tag: Sinrebirth

 

IC: Susulur Dha'tra
Aboard the Rosa, Med Bay

Whoever had sent the secondary meeting relay to the med bay was a burc'ya, in either meaning of the term for 'good friend'. Still, either whoever had programmed the medical droids or it was a natural condition for them, well there was a bit of a sadist. Never in his life had it taken so many hands and trial and error attempts to get the top half of his body glove back on. It didn't help that most of his natural inclinations were blocked by the droids as producing too great a strain prior to a nights rest for his body to fully heal enough for normal physical activity such as getting dressed in a suit of armor.

Advances in bacta and medical sciences his foot! Morning sounded great but these things ministrations made that seem a million light years away. Just as he was about to call them all chaavla for the umpteenth time since he had demanded to be put back into his armor was when Goran walked in. Right, the meeting had ended. Mandalor had shared openly their edge of their isotope and so ended his side option of ditching some of these strays now that he was back in working order, or shortly would be. He was now on sides of whether being a pilot or ground pounder for the mission. His taste was for the final blow, and in this instance he doubted any shot from his ships weapons would do so as Yavin IV had proven, a missile boat was the wrong weapon to bare on the targets ship.

Surprisingly to him in his pause of not trying to do it himself, it actually let the med droids get his body glove on most of the way, they paused with a nursing droids appendages stuck up his front keeping the glove from pressing on his incision sights. Goran spoke and then left it pretty obvious this was the most superficial dance you could do without a buy'ce on. Although to be perfectly honest he could go for a buy'ce gal right about now. Not that a helmet full of dark ale would have done much good. "Yes. After a fashion once more. See I can say the same for you."

Letting the droids slide on his arm armor one of them informed him that he needed to stay as was so that the synthflesh could breath properly during the smoldering bonding phase which would last another hour. "Chakaaryc!" (Rotten / Low lifes!) Perfect. Breathing a sigh of defeat he got his helmet on, and opened a line of sight laser channel. Something further to decrease any listening in on their conversation. "My ship is like a basilisk to me. Cabur can'gal (Guardian/protector starship). She will nudge you in flying, she is used to my methods. I pain to part with it for a battle to another, and cannot imagine how you feel parting with your own. Chaavla sa shebs be'striili! (Rough as a strill's backside!) However long it takes to finish this fight before you can maybe reclaim her. If I live I will help you in that. You have my word." It was a simple opening, but it broached what he felt was needed to be said.

Goran nodded. 'I take your word. Manda'lor has a plan, as he does.' The Mandalorian scowled, which was obviously not visible, but body language was a whole different angle of communication in an armoured man. 'Fett has gone over the signals that we've been following. The first one which hired you at Yaga Minor. Someone is stringing us along, and Fett is going to ditch the Hit Squad and go and grab a skifter...'

Goran sounded unhappy. 'But we'll need you to keep it up. Verify orders from Fett but get them from me. It's probably Snoke, something longwinded and sharp at the end. He had us thin the herd by taking out Flennic, so he could take more direct control of the Remnant, and get Pellaeon to trust us, I dunno?'

'Either way. It's black ops stuff and not commando stuff.' He took a deep breath.

This was the clincher.

'Fett doesn't think we can trust all of the Hit Squad.'

Listening with his head tilted down slightly he took in his brothers armor. Blood is thicker than water, and beskar is tougher than both. Especially when tried in the blaze of battle. Basically they were sharpening their blade by adding an edge. Hoping to prevent one from cutting them from the side as they dove after their new target. A wise precaution but it weakened them on all fronts until the new blade edge, that new knowledge was formed.

The last of what he, Goran, had said. He chuckled slightly, "Don't make laugh. I don't trust one without a trace of beskar beyond following their own idiotic ends with little honor. Question is whether all are telling the truth where that lays. Who does Fett not trust?"

'The changeling, for one - the girl, Bre. Solo, as ever, runs his own games. But especially the Muun and Argen.' Goran paused. 'I'm not into cloak and dagger stuff, though I'm good at it. Medrit is even less into it.'

Goran paused. 'I never heard your story, actually. How you came to the Resol'nare.'

Shifting just a little bit Susulur let his head rock back at the question. As close to shock as could be conveyed through the helmet. Of all the turns, why had he not seen that one coming? It made sense, questioning the veracity of others his own was in turn put on the block, despite the beskar pieces in his armor.

"Well. Which one?" he asked with a small chuckle. "I was a patriot of my home cluster, my race is one of warlords that saw and knew not to push once their sphere nearly met the Old Republic and the spirit has not died in the ages since. The cautious Warlords, if not in name still in spirit. They authorized my travel to find a new birth of a martial teaching that was being reborn in the Galaxy at large on the qualm I returned to teach of it. I found that in learning it I slowly drifted." he took a breath as though to sigh. In truth it was rooted more in the mere fact of buying time, to sort out his own past again through the latest filters. The past may never change, but how he saw it seemed to shift with each change of self.

"I have kept my word and promises, somethings never change from life to life, but except the creed and colors. But the soul and heart. They rang hollow one day. My learning became my calling, the wars raged and it became the truth not only to where I was but also to where I came from. I was a Jetii." It was a wistful word and thought. Like a dream some things, some truths were known and accepted, but always seemed too strange to be true. On the word Jetii a small hatch opened on his backpack the droids had fitted into place and an old weapon, well worn and loved fell out to land at the others feet. To the outside world it was an armor malfunction, within their buccee's shared comm it said a lot.

For there it laid.

His Jetii'kad. Tipping his bucket he acknowledged it, "It was a good life, and good battles and a good war. In the end. In the end it became a cult, centered on Skywalker. I could not stand it anymore, it was not the Jedi I had trained and learned to be that was the issue, it was the Order. Without him calling the shots from the top down, the order did not exist beyond a basic survival mode. That is not living, that is not a true group or calling. Not to mention we only handled the issues he saw fit, if he did not agree it did not happen. There was the rebel in the midst of Kyp and a few others. Saba also stood out sharply to the order's flaws but neither truly would defy Skywalker. That was a false sting I could not bear. I left before the tragedy. Left to stay with some allies I had made in my tenure. They in turn turned me to their allies. The Mandalorians"

Resting his head back he let that be. No need to say who his friends were or how they were friends of Mandalorians. It mattered little. "From that meeting it grew. I found a new order. A new family, odd and dysfunctional we may be but we stand for something. Even if it is just honor and each other. We don't let politics and political views cloud who or what we are, and though we follow one man it is only as called and not with a fatalistic reverence. Not always do we have to follow him either, the rest of the time we live our lives, find our own ways and battles through this galaxy. That is what drew me in. That is what drew me to Resol'nare. I may be tied to a mining clan, but the truth is in the beskar. That is my story, my finding of the Resol'nare. Simple in all the complexities of life."

TAG: Sinrebirth, Kahn_Iceay

 

IC- Izzy Stark a.k.a. The Ripper
Coruscant (combo post with Sinrebirth)

Izzy saw the movement the Besilisk made for his blaster even as he pointed his own dagger at her. She smirked triumphantly and moved right when her target pulled the trigger.

She used the Force to enhance her speed and was behind Lory by the time the laser hit the wall that had been behind her.

Stark took this opportunity and stabbed at him with one of her own daggers. "Thank you. Now they can see how my masterpiece will look while still fresh."

Lory was already turning, an elbow driving at Stark's face and him twisting his waist so the dagger missed. It was swift as it was sure, as it was a hard blow, if it connected.

Izzy saw the dual attack. She ducked under Lory's elbow, caught his dagger with one of her own, and immediately hooked her ankle behind his legs, attempting to bring him down. She aimed several vicious strikes where his face would be. It was all done with great speed.

"What is it, Lor- Lor? Cat got your tongue?" the grin on her face was the stuff of nightmares.

Lory's face was, let's be fair, a collection of chunks of meat and blood and brain and skull and teeth, pulp that oozed out of what was left of his face.

The body spasmed, and it died.

And then the dangerous sense of three raised blasters sounded out. Girdun and two snipers, the latter with pistols and their rifles strewn across their backs.

They were running back into the grove, but were a fair distance away. 'Hands up!' Girdun shouted, and opened fire before she even had time to react.

Feeling accomplished, Stark started to rise from her crouched position.....

..... And immediately ducked down again as a bolt flew over her head.

Startled, she heard a voice calling, "Hands up!" It was followed by a fire fight before she could do anything.

Without fully realizing it, Stark was running toward a nearby alley, using the Force to enhance her speed.

"Catch me if you can."

TAG: Sinrebirth

 

The following takes place after the last JP with Sinre, and his soon-to-be update, in which Vincent left the task force at Gehenna and returned to Eshan to prepare for his own personal journey. It was run by Sinre before posting.

IC: Vincent Mikaru


The EMS Legacy was an old bulk freighter under the ownership of the Mikaru family. In the early days of its operation it hauled freight across the middle rim, then a few hundred years ago the family retired the ship from active service and repurposed it as a family museum. For generations ships, weapons, relics, and everything in between for posterity’s sake. It lived up to it’s name.

In the battle above Eshan, the Legacy took damage. A two hundred meter portion of her starboard fore section took a direct hit from a fighter run. The ship’s shields had not been upgraded in decades, and buckled, followed quickly by the hull. Load barring beams snapped and crashed. The Solace a Hyrotii Crescent that had been used by Vincent’s uncle Muri had it’s entire forward section crushed under the weight. Crews still worked to free the wreckage, plans to rebuild were in motion.

Though parts of the ship were closed off, Vincent was permitted to visit, and now he wandered the ships halls, surrounded by his family past. The irony was not lost on him. Here he was, a wounded man, trying to make sense of his legacy, on a wounded ship, filled with nothing but the legacy of others. He let out a breath, frustration and exhaustion heavy on it as he placed a hand against a transported display case, a Vibroblade reportedly belonging to Morganus, first patriarch of the clan suspended inside.

Morganus had fought the Sith, fought Revan’s Sith. His clan had literally been forged in the fires of a war against the Sith and here he was, the heir to one. But was it the same? Nereza had been a Sith yes, but she’d been a savior as well. She also had fought Revan, that much he knew, that much he remembered. She’d turned her back on the Sith Empire to follow a greater good, but still. She was a Sith. Kallig was a Sith. It was in her blood, her very genetic code and now it was in his.

Vincent Mikaru, Firedancer, Heir to the Mikaru Family, was a Sith Lord by birthright. And he was lost.

Stepping away from the display Vincent continued to wander the halls and the corridors of the ship, pausing at displays and info-kiosks until finally he found himself at a door emblazoned with bright red letters. “Off Limits To Non Mikaru personnel”. He was about to turn away when he felt something, like a whisper, through the other side of the door. He knew there were no other personnel on the ship at the moment, not in this section.

Waving a hand at the control panel the door hissed open and he stepped inside. As the door slipped behind him he saw motion down the corridor and ran after it, all the while he felt the whispering growing until finally he found himself in an open hangar bay. There were a few ships in the bay but one caught his attention immediately.

It was large, easily twice the size of a light freighter, it’s lines were sharp, and it’s design was most certainly Imperial, but at the same time it was old. He stepped towards the craft, the sound in his mind dying down as he grew closer, his eyes followed the ships curvature until he stood under it’s starboard mandible, and he reached up to place a hand on the hull.

And silence.

Everything was silent, the ship was quiet, the hangar was quiet, the constant dull drum of the Legacy’s systems was silent, the whole world seemed to have fallen away, were he not able to see it. Then the silence broke to a single sound, a hiss of steam and pressure as the ship he had just laid hand on lowered its ramp, as though it were beckoning him to board.

Come.

He could have sworn he heard it as he let his hand slip from the surface of the ship, his feet seeming to move on their own as he stepped up the ramp, the ships airlock seemingly reacting to his presence as it recessed inward and slid open. Inviting him in.

The air was stale, as though it had not been circulated in ages, and given the history of the ship it sat on, centuries. All the same the ship seemed to spark to life as he ventured inward, lights and diodes blinked on, life support vents flicked open and air began to move, until he stood inside a large central room, dominated by a circular holoprojector.

At the edge of the projector a console sat, with a single blue blinking light. In the dimness of the room it was impossible to miss. Without thinking, so much of this was done without thinking, he reached out and placed a hand on the console, and quickly pulled his hand back as he felt a jab of pain, though it was familiar, a biometric scan.

‘Welcome Back Lord Imperus. Beginning automatic playback.’ The display flickered to life, at first displaying an emblem that reminded him both of the old Imperial logo, and the Old republic logo, before it shifted to a hologram that he recognized. The woman from the shadow world, Nereza, Darth Imperius. She was still clad in her armor but her face read as sad.

“It’s been, three weeks, and still nothing.” She took in a breath, “Three weeks ago, the Clandestine was leaving Eshan space for a meeting with Janus’ privateering contacts when sensors registered an unusual power spike in the ships hyperdrive. We heard over the communications network that they were trying to shut the hyperdrive down, run a test, when the ship jumped. They never reappeared. Janus, Vail, the entire crew. Gone.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “We’ve fought Sith, and Jedi, and droid armies, ancient evils. We stood in the face of a power that could consume worlds and what takes them from me, is a hyperdrive malfunction. We were the Outlanders, the commanders of the Alliance. We’ve fallen apart. The legacy of the Outlanders, of Janus, of Vail, of me and Lord Kallig, the hero of Typhon, the Emperor’s Wrath, the Barsen’thor. I’m afraid of what that legacy might be, once we’re all gone.”

The hologram faded, and Vincent was left standing quietly in the dark as the ship continued its slow return to life. This ship, it had been hers. Did his parents know? Was the legacy of Kallig something they kept from him, or was it something kept from them? No they wouldn’t do that, not like this. Had this been sealed away? Was it a shame? Or something else. Vincent needed answers, and he felt like he would not find them on Eshan.

Then behind him, he heard a hiss, pressure and vapor as he turned and watched a panel recess into the wall and a small compartment open up revealing several items. One however was something he recognized, though he’d never seen it before. “Kallig…” He mouthed quietly as he stepped over, and lifted the helmet up, and gave it an appraising look. Thousands of years old, he knew, and it still looked new. He placed it back down in the container, the other contents of which seemed to be a set of blasters, a datapad, and what looked like a datacron.

“I need, to find the others.” He said aloud. There had been other outlanders, other commanders, maybe even other decedents of Kallig. If he was going to learn more about himself, more about this Legacy that was buried so deep in his being that it was part of his own genetic code then he needed to find out more about them. Nereza, had called the Outlander’s her family, that made them his as well.

Lifting the container up he stepped around the holoprojector Vincent entered a small corridor that wound its way around to the front of the ship, where three chairs sat in triad around a central navigational console. “Callista…” He knew she herself wasn't present but one of her many fragments was always about, “I need an engineering team on board the Legacy to begin work on getting files from a navigational computer…”

Tag: Sinrebirth

 

JP with Sinre


The Invective, Docked
Gehenna Base

After Vincent left to rendezvous with the Vision of Confluence and move ahead of the rest of the Fleet back to Eshan, Callista and her 'guest' continued to take the tubolift back up to the ships main bridge. There, she knew, she might find the Admiral frothing at the lips at what she most certainly viewed as a prize. For once, the HRD could not blame the Admiral for her thinking, but it would still be a task to inform her as to why she could not take what could very well turn the tide of the war. Though it might take some lying to do so.

It wasn't hard to find the Admiral either, she was standing buy a window on the command deck, gazing out ward. It also wasn't hard to see where her gaze fell either, she was eyeing the Dominator. For a moment, Callista felt what was the A.I. equivalent to a shiver running down her spine, like she was being appraised as one might appraise a steak before consuming it. The woman left Aden to his own devices, she had more than enough cameras in place to keep an eye on him. Moving across the bridge she came up a few feet away from the Admiral, following her gaze. "I know what you are thinking Admiral, and you may be right. That you could rightfully turn the tide. But I still cannot just let you have that ship."

Niathal nodded. 'I know. And I shouldn't ask, so I won't, and nor will I take, if I could, but I can point out that I couldn't change the tide immediately and I expect that even you would concede that Vincent's focus is elsewhere, and not on the war. So I won't ask for the Dominator.' Aden seemed to smirk to himself, the noise of his lips moving as loud as any to a droid of Callista's calibre, easily as loud as his skulking. 'I shall instead ask you what you think we should do.'

Callista's eyes seemed to dance for a moment, unfocused movement as she processed information and slowly seemed to frown. "I don't know," She replied finally, a slump in her shoulders. "I'm not the one to ask." She returned her gaze out towards the Dreadnought. "She is."

'The Dreadnought?' Niathal seemed incredulous. 'Surely she would want to be used for what it was designed for? To fight? To war? To victory!'

As though answering the Admiral's statement the lights along the hull of the Dreadnought began to come on. An ensign called out, saying that they were getting transmission from the Dominator as holo-projectors on the ship began to come to life. A woman appeared, ever the duplicate of Callista, though her hair was longer her form composed of dancing symbols in Echani and Aurbesh as three motes of light spun behind her in a triangle. ~Was I built for war?~

"Callie." Callista spoke quietly, "Cyber Assistant - Localized Logistical Intelligence Entity, my original A.I. Core, and the heart of the Dominator."

~The first of many.~ The hologram addressed the Admiral. ~I've observed and calculated, all the data my proxy has recorded. You wish to know my thoughts?~

Niathal managed to keep her iceberg edge. 'Admiral Cha Niathal, New Republic Third Fleet, acting Head of State and Supreme Commander of the NRDF.'

She leaned forward. 'And I would know your thoughts, Assistant.'

~I know who you are.~ It was obvoius there were some key differences between the two 'A.I.' Callista, was very life like in her emotions, this Callie seemed much more stoic. ~There is an 83.2% chance that Supreme Commander Snoke survived his fall. There is a statistically equal chance that he is currently en route to a fall back position. Snoke exhibits extreme tendencies to mimic or replicate the tendencies of Palptine, as such I calculate high probable chance of another 'superweapon' of unknown make or model. There is a 67% chance that if my frame were utilized victory could be achieved within a matter of weeks, and 92.5% chance of victory if progress is slowed over several months. I project Civilian and Republic casualties in excess of 20 million over the course of the next three months. It is statistically improbable for the First Order to win, however any victory for the Republic will be Pyrrhic due to loss of lives, resources, and assets.~

Niathal paused. 20 million wasn't as bad as it could be. 'And what of that superweapon. Disregarding a statistical likelihood that it will be shortly destroyed after being made operational - it would have the chance to completely turn the tide of the war, no?'

Aden spoke up. 'And what if we do not use your frame?'

~Before I progress, I have a request~ The A.I. paused, seemed to ponder it's words. ~This information is all based on statistical and observed data by my proxy. This data is not 100% accurate. Example: I do not have access to Republic Military records, in which to calculate current republic force strengths, reserves, and other statistical data. Information given was provided using my frame, in addition to the ships present in this system, and those present in the Eshan Sector. Without my frame, statistical likelihood of victory without excessive loss much lower, with excessive loss equally so... For accurate portrayal of likely outcomes, I require additional data.~

Niathal pulled a face. 'There is no mainframe. It's gone with Hosnian Prime. But I can answer a lot from what I have been able to ascertain or I can confirm of deployments before the war.'

Aden was generally trying not to look interested in top secret military matters. But Niathal had already reasoned that information that was two weeks out of date would not hurt, such as if was.

Without missing a beat Callista produced a datapad and handed it to the Admiral. ~Please, enter any relevant data you know~ The hologram made a motion with her hand, ~In the mean time I shall inform you of details that you missed outside of Eshan. A cursory analysis of the captured Resurgence has shown interesting results. At first glance the Resurgence class appears to be a state-of-the-art technological marvel. However preliminary finds show that the ships, if the one captured is a standard barer for her class, are a combination of new technology, and old resources. The individual ship captured housed re-purposed consoles, hull material, and various equipment that due to Republic and Imperial records could be tracked to the Star Destroyers Minsc, No Horizons, and Cadence. We can surmise that the First Order is as strapped for resources as we assumed, and that their current fighting force was put together using older assets. Thus New Republic assets are strategically more advanced, leaving the Resurgence classes with the advantage only in speed and firepower on limited arcs.~

Niathal found that interesting. Those three warships had been supposedly destroyed in the first five months after the battle of Endor, those, with seventy five percent of the Imperial Navy and all but two of the thirteen known Star Dreadnaughts at the time; the Ravager and Annhilator, though new Star Dreadnaught construction had doubled that number by two years after the Battle of Jakku and the collapse of the Dark Empire - one of the larger warlord states which never signed the Galactic Concordance. The Intimidator, Armardia, Eclipse, Vengeance, Razor's Kiss, Whelm and Aurora had all been near completion at the Battle of Endor, and in the Deep Core another fifteen keels had been laid and finalised a year after the Battle of Jakku.

Niathal jotted down the locations of the First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Fleets by this time three weeks ago - Hosnian Prime, Ord Mantell, near Generis, Balmorra, near Garqi and at Eshan - for the Second Fleet had been retracing the Yuuzhan Vong invasion route and the Third and Fifth Fleets were the combined response fleet was often on missions in the Outer Rim. She also jotted down the locations of the three Star Dreadnaughts of the NRDF - Guardian, Viscount and Bounty, the former two at Hosnian Prime and the latter being what Niathal had near Bothawui.

Niathal nodded to herself. 'In the Imperial Order of Battle there were roughly sixteen percent of the entries which were not backed up by black box data but were by other records, as opposed to the Black Fleet, which had neither. But being as nobody saw them and not even the Empire of the Hand seemed to have them... And what self respecting state would not have thrown them at the Yuuzhan Vong...'

Niathal bit her lip in a human-like gesture, something she he had adopted from them. 'Interesting...'

~Accessing Records~ The hologram closed her eyes and seemed to take in a breath as her appearance seemed to start to glow. Around them consoles picked up a dramatic up-tick in energy consumption from the asteroid station but it faded as rapidly as it had appeared. ~Data analyzed. First fleet, status, 100% casualty rate. Hypothesis, some small craft may still be intact inside larger hulks, however high radiation will hinder retrieval efforts. Second Fleet, estimated active ship status, 90% Ord Mantell's strategic importance goes without statement. Likelihood of First Order assault in progress 97.345%. Likelihood of Imperial victory, 35%. Third Fleet, estimated active ship status, 100%. Strategic Military importance of sector low, addendum; archeological records show numerous relics and ruins tied to ancient pre-Old Republic establishment, such ruins are of high value to Darksiders according to Firedancer records. Likelihood of Snoke/Knights of Ren interest high. Fourth Fleet, estimated active ship status, 95%. Strategic value of Balmora astronomical, fortress world, weapons foundry, essential to both the former Republic and former Empire. Likelihood of Imperial attempt at takeover, high. Fifth Fleet, estimated active ship status 85%. Area is of little strategic importance but former imperial sentiment is high, likelihood of insurgency tactics at 85%. Sixth Fleet, actual status, 75% and rising. Battle of Eshan was unexpected and took high toll. Echani government has unanimously authorized General Valsanis to reactivate the Foundries of the Six Sisters, a motion has been carried to temporarily withdraw from the Galactic Concordance. Numerous decommissioned ships and half completed hulls are being towed into shipyards for rearmament and completion. Estimated return to 100% operational status, three months.~

The glow faded, and the hologram opened her eyes before directing her attention back to the Admiral. ~It is this sentient unit's suggestion, that you deploy courier ships to the Third fleet and then move to take Balmora. If Balmora falls, the Republic falls.~

Niathal nodded. 'Your analysis is sound. I would be best placed taking this task force there and reinforcing. Maybe send a scout to Generis... Your data does not account for the HoloNet relay to the Unknown Regions. There are only two, one there and at Esfandia, within Wild Space.'

Aden spoke up. 'Which makes it all the more likely that they have struck there, what with the HoloNet themed attacks, if the data about the hyper-communications relays within these First Order Destroyers, like the old Banking Clan frigates.' Aden indicated a separate datapad on the desk of the analysis room.

Niathal nodded. 'But I do not have anyone here I trust sufficiently to have the initiative to follow a string of factors to their end goal. Bel Iblis isn't likely to have held that ground but if he has he will be under siege that close to the Remnant...'

The Mon Calamari ended up sidling her eyes to Callista. She tried not to. Niathal really did. But the droid could stand up to Jedi, and it was independent minded.

"If you're going to ask me something ask me." Callista nodded to the Hologram, "however she has more to say."

~I am investigating the current status of the HoloNet. I have deployed a proxy to Coruscant, it should arrive within a few days. It will only investigate however, as I lack any proxies of the capabilities as unit CALLISTA and she is no longer under my direct control.~

Niathal frowned. 'Why Coruscant? It has not been relevant for more than a decade now, since the Yuuzhan Vong chased us off it.'

Niathal rotated an eye to Callista. 'I need a proxy of my own. To investigate what has become of the Third Fleet. We didn't manage to hook up with the Resistance at Yavin 4, and we're cut off with this small task force. We can't change the balance, even if we rush to the front - we'll be lost. Even with the A.I.'s calculations, there will be more than a thousand Resurgent-class ships somewhere, and the Remnant had a hundred Imperial-class Destroyers before they broke away from the Alliance.'

~Coruscant maintains one of the largest Holonet Relay sites in the galaxy, even after the Vongforming. It is much easier for Droid Proxies to move about Coruscant's lower levels than the other viable target, Nar Shaddaa. If the Proxy is able to interface with the relay it can hopefully determine if there is an issue in the form of malware. If so my Proxy is equipped to destroy it. If the issue is hardware based it will allow us to determine it.~

Callista for her part sighed, she understood where the Admiral was coming from and for her part wanted to help, if not for the Admiral's sake but for the sake of the Galaxy as a whole. "I will, if given leave, investigate the Third Fleet. But in the mean time I..." She froze for a moment, mid sentence and motion, eyes aglow. When she unfroze she turned towards the Hologram. "Are you sure?"

~Yes.~ Outside, worker droids began to swarm, pouring out of access shafts, some wielding welders, other laser saws, many moving to grab resource tugs, but all eventually moving towards the Dominator. ~You will have access to my frame, Admiral. Return here in one week, with a crew of ten thousand, and we shall be ready.~ The hologram vanished, as entire sections of the Dreadnought became obscured by the rapid movement of droids.

"Well..." Callista said after staring solemnly for a moment, "Looks like you've gotten what you wanted."

Caught in mental agreement that Coruscant would indeed be safer than Nar Shaddaa, which had a thousand factions vying for supremacy at any one time, Niathal blinked in surprise. 'Ten thousand. I will acquire the crew.' She daren't ask if the AI was sure in its crew numbers. A Dreadnought. After the crippling of the Bounty she thought the starfleet defanged, but with this... The Admiral did not lose track of the thread of discussion, however.

'You will certainly be excused, but in the meantime what?' The Mon Calamari was furiously summoning up troop numbers and what she could pull. Heading straight to Balmorra would be most effective at this stage, and rolling out what she could spare from each ship. Five hundred men from every major capital ship would make up the numbers in short order. Each NR fleet had twenty Destroyers or equivalent, after all. The Fourth Fleet was primarily Star Destroyers, mind you.

Aden Kya looked to Callista and sought to excuse himself, looking to track down Vincent. It had been a lengthy discussion and they had to get going to Chandrila.

"In the meantime, we need to return to Eshan. Master Vincent has already returned on-board the Vision of Confluence, in order to make certain preparations." Outside they could see the large doors on the other side of the asteroids massive hangar opening. "While we waited droids made adjustments to all our ships Hyperdrives so that they do not leave the same signature, meaning they will not trace us as easily, it will give you some mobility with this task force for the time being. For now however Admiral, the Task Force is yours. Do not waste my Master's faith in you."

Admiral Niathal saluted Callista. 'I shall be here in a week, failing that I will be on Balmorra, before and after. Account for travel time, of course.'

Aden Kya sketched a lopsided salute, and twirled off. Niathal gave Callista a quiet addition. 'And I do not trust that one. He plays pretty hard and fast with the truth for a Jensaarai.'

She straightened again. 'May the Force be with you.'

Kya was by the turbolift, ready to move on. 'I'm impatient. And I don't have my own ship. Do I get one?'

“No.” Callista replied sternly as she stepped into the lift and directed it down to the shuttle hangar. “You left your last one attached to a station I control, and last I checked it’s still there, with ion cannons aimed at it’s magnetic signature.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Take better care of your toys before you ask for more…”

Tag: Sinrebirth