SWRPF Archive The Shattered Galaxy: Main Game Thread

Colonel Trins Oldin
Sienar's Pub, Imperial Center

"They may not be as rare as you think, [y]ou just need to look in the right places."

The ISB Colonel nodded, "Perhaps you are right, but one would usually not expect to find such a...caliber...of person in a place like this," he smiled lopsidedly and added with a wink, "...unless they were hiding from something of course," he actually meant little by it. Trins had a slightly odd sense of humor sometimes and he occasionally lacked in the tact area. After all, he was more of an analyst than anything else usually. He noticed the Wookie that seemed to serve as the man's companion. That was not often seen. The only other time he had seen a Wookie traveling with someone else like this was because of one of those life debts they seem to get into.

Stepping closer to the table, Oldin extended his hand as though to shake the man's, "Forgive me for not introducing myself. Trins Oldin," the hand hung there in space as it were. He hoped the gentleman would be cordial and polite, but Trins also knew a lot of people did not care for the organization he served and often held it against him.

TAG: Solo, anyone else

 

IC: Poison

While still gleeful over what she believed she had done to the rude man's ship, Poison saw another ship landing, and headed over to see what was going on. Hidden, she saw the new arrival announce himself as Saarai-Kaar, and the Blademaster greeting him.

The Saarai-Kaar identified himself as an ally, one of the helpers who would be there so the Sith could gain the power they were supposed to. Poison walked out of her place of concealment, joining the Blademaster and Saarai-Kaar on the platform. Her hood slipped down, revealing the spiked red hair and scarred, tattooed face that made her a distinctive figure. "Dark Lord should be told that Saarai-Kaar is here," she remarked when she reached speaking range. She gave a brief almost-grin that bared her artificial fangs- top and bottom canine teeth replaced. "Greeting newcomers is good. Poison will tell Dark Lord of newcomer." Her oddly-phrased words emerged in a slightly hoarse voice, in which the emphasis was at times placed on the wrong syllables. With the almost monotone delivery, the overall effect resembled a badly programmed droid.

Still, the fact that she sounded that way could be taken as a reassuring thing; she was not fidgeting, or displaying enough emotion for her words to be given more life. It was calmness, of a sort. The Blademaster would know that, to a degree, though the Sith Hand was not normally anywhere close enough to speak to him. Still, the various members of the Sith were periodically in the same place for one reason or another.

Tag: Grayson, Xander

 

IC: Preston Darmal
Enroute to Mos Eisley Spaceport

Unfortunately for Preston following the bounty hunter was rather uneventful he simply checked his datapad and proceeded to enter a weapons dealer. Preston didn't feel like entering the shop and instead just walked on by to the spaceport, though he would keep an eye out for when or if the bounty hunter returned to his ship. The reason he was following the bounty hunter was because many bounty hunters were closely tied to the Empire, and could be making a potentially fatal blow to the Alliance, however he didn't always want to be associated with the Alliance and to everyone but the Alliance his cover and also side-interested would be another job for credits.

As he walked by he saw the other man that he noticed at the cantina, he was no longer smoking however and looked as though he too was heading towards the spaceport, he gave the man a quick glimpse before facing towards the spaceport. Mos Eisley as usual was busy, beings from what looked like everywhere were moving from place to place, some stopping to talk to each other, others being stopped by thugs.

When he entered the spaceport he spotted a rodian beating a rag onto a wall, the Rodian was shouting something but he didn't really take much notice of what he was saying. Preston got a small shiver down his spine from the rodian. He wasn't sure why, he didn't mind rodians as a species but this one just gave him a feeling, he wasn't sure at the time and decided it was best to get to his hangar.

While he entered his hanger he got another quick look of the rodian and then looked around for the white haired man and the bounty hunter he was previously following. Finally he turned back and headed to his ship, Souls Fire, it was a modified Ghtroc 720 with two manual or automatic turrets added to each side of the ship decreasing the size of the cargo holds, as well as the stock double laser cannon atop of the cockpit. It was bigger than a YT-1300 but also slightly slower. But Preston was happy with it and it had served him well so far.

He started to load consumables onto the ship, he had nearly run out of the two Months supply he had only gotten one month ago, he grunted before getting stuck into it, constantly checking the hangar door however to see if he had any visitors.

TAG: Kahn, Dade, Mitth(If you guys want to), Any

 

IC as Kane Lavos, The Awkward Womp Rat Cantina, Invisec, Imperial Centre

His eyes closed for the barest of moments as the fleeting chill of an open door brushed across the ridge of his nose, cheek and down past his chin. He knew that the Togarian would be looking up nervously, chancing a glance at the entrant as an excuse to break the gaze of his companions. He knew this, because the Togarian was of a type. The type that had come to rely on physical prowess, strength, general appearance; all mere tools, inelegant as a cudgel. Vicious bludgeoning instruments to intimidate and coerce, useful in sectors of the galaxy - most of the galaxy in these times - but ultimately self-defeating, proving themselves as limiting to one's survival in high stakes sabacc as a scoundrel's bluster, or an uncharged blaster.

He knew all this, because it was his job to know it. His task, his duty in life; to breakdown and understand the motivations and actions of others as if they were his own. So he could create and break intimacy, know fundamental truths and uncover even the most elaborate of deceptions. Of schemes. Of infernal machinations and cowardly plots; all as numerous in the shadowed sub-levels as lice were on his companion. A useful as an analogy for the rebellion as he could muster: misfits and miscreants huddling under the banner of 'Democracy' to justify their crimes, their dementia, their choice to live wholly outside of civilised society.

They were vermin, and no amount of righteous indignation or self-justification could change that objective truth, that fundamental fact. As the Separatists had done only decades ago the Rebellion would do now: band together under a common banner to facilitate their greed, selfishness and ultimately diametrically opposed goals. The only thing they shared was a movement toward Chaos.

Towards Death.

Towards Suffering.

Mincha la suzuo de masta ra qurma. Revered were you, those who died for the light.

He felt an itch by his wrist and opened his eyes, knowing he had closed them for just long enough to give the right opportunity. Turning to coldly stare at his gruff, sweating, heaving companion, he felt the moment coalesce into certainty. Only a moment had passed, and he was back in character.

"Your move." he said, softly pushing the words out over the top of his cards and past the other three assorted characters sharing the table.

The Togarian attempted to keep his composure, but lost it with a sneeze; followed hotly by a snarling snout full of teeth.

"Sooner or later, all debts come due." The alien growled, setting the transfer field to stay. "I'll hold, half-breed, and look at your cards, for my winnings are earned back now."

Kane Lavos - rising star of Imperial Intelligence and loyal son of His Imperial Majesty's visionary New Order - didn't even blink. He raised a finger, set the field, and his cards all faced up.

A voice spoke up from beside Lavos, a sound as if gravel were being poured down a durasteel chute. "Nineteen, a strong enough hand, but I would have thought stronger giving how bad you were chasing that pot, Murva." The Defel sitting beside him wasn't such a bad companion, nor card player, as citizens in these parts went, but he clearly wasn't sharing the same opinion of Lavos - or his assumed identity, that of Murva Gartrel, Arms Dealer out on business from the Argoi system.

Lavos nodded in acknowledgement and tilted his head to the now smirking Togarian, and steepled his fingers together. Now it happens. "As our friend has pointed out, sooner or later, all debts come due, and he's certainly chased even harder. In fact, he may now be cleaned out. So what about it friend? Care to show your hand?"

The Togarian gave out a high-pitched bray, revealing his cards.

"Pure Sabaac!" cried out the Twi'lek in heavily accented Basic, joining the Defel with a look of astonishment at the towering alien who had just snared a last-gasp pot.

"Indeed?" Lavos allowed himself a smile, leaning forward to

 

IC: Jaden Kevlin
Imperial Center, Spaceport

It had been a long couple of hours as Jaden waited within the spaceport for the transport that would take him up to his next posting. And while he waited, he tried to pass the time by doing a couple exercises to make sure that his time in the medcenter hadn't softened him up. A couple laps around the spaceport and other minor things. And to his dismay, it was proven that amongst the dunks in the bacta tanks and the surgery, it was indeed noticeable that he wasn't in the shape that he had been before his healing and recovery. He could still do the exercises that he had performed in training, but he noticed the weakness and slight shortness of breath that set in much earlier then usual. Nothing too hampering though; he was quite sure that he could keep up with any Stormtrooper that he'll be assigned with, he just wasn't at his peak.

That'll hopefully change once he saw action again, which led him to just having a seat once he had finished his exercises and just think about the sudden turn of events with him being assigned to the Ascension. There was nothing said about a mission - and even if there was a mission planned, the receptionist droid probably would've made no mention of it or the knowledge would've been kept from it to keep up security - but that didn't stop the thoughts that the veteran picked over at possible scenarios. If there was a mission, he hoped that it involved being brought back to the Outer Rim for another round with the Rebels. They had caught him and the Imperial forces there by surprise with the power struggle that was going on within the Empire, but now that everything was back under control, he hoped that one of the first orders of business was to kick them out of there. But then there was the Sith as well even though they held only a shadow of the power that they held when Palpatine was ruling.

Whatever was planned, Jaden would obey as he was trained to do to protect the Empire.

The time had passed quickly enough during Jaden's thoughts and exercises. Soon enough, the men that he would be serving with slowly filed into the spaceport and the veteran was slightly annoyed with himself that, when they piled into the transport that arrived to take them up to the Ascension, he wasn't in the white armor that the rest of the troopers were despite how that wasn't a surprise. He had just came out of the medcenter and with the reorganization of military personnel, he was probably one of a few that was meeting a delay for new equipment. Hopefully, the paperwork would already be filed and he would once again be encased in the familiar armor before he would have to see any combat.

So, taking a seat within the transport and trying to ignore the feeling that he was being stared at by several pairs of eyes hidden behind visors, Jaden sat back and, soon enough, felt the transport lift off and start it's journey to the Ascension. And during then he occupied the time by going over the functions of standard-issue armor in his mind. It would be much more then an annoyance if, when Jaden did finally get his own, new suit of armor, he forgot how to work the technological features of it.

TAG: Thok (Troopers on the way)

 

Morva
Mos Eisley Space Port


The spaceport was busy today, and obnoxiously loud. There was a particularly loud Rodian lamenting about grim and other things. Morva was half tempted to yell out for him to just pay the 100 credits to get his ship washed. But what did Morva care? He just wanted to get the the launcher and torpedoes installed and get to work.

Using his datapad access he opened up the door to the Firestar and climbed in. The interior of his ship was not military standard. The hatch entered into the compartment just behind the cockpit, it was basically a mix between a locker room and a Bathroom. With a refresher and locker and a fold down bench. It wasn't glorious, but he didn't care.

Morva moved to the forward hatch and moved into the cockpit. The cockpit was a fair bit less crowded than a standard one. Two of the chairs where removed, and much of their controls routed to the two forward consoles. Morva leaned over the main console and opened the port Launcher hatch.

When this particular skipray was decommissioned its turret and two launchers were removed. However, much of the non-military systems related to them weren't, the actual tubes for one were still there, as were the reloading hatches. They needed to be opened to install the launcher, so he wanted it open when the workers arrived.

- - -

some time later


Normally instillation of such a scale takes time, but because the ship was produced by Sienar just like the Launcher, things fit together more easily, much like a modular weapons system. But after the hour wait for the men to arrive things went smoothly and quickly. The launcher took only two hours and installing the torpedoes was a 30 minute job.

Morva was focused on watching the men install the parts, not much on anything else. He wanted to make sure that the job was done right. He trusted Kayson, but not Kayson's employees. When the instillation was completed, Morva flipped up his datapad and sent an advanced request for takeoff clearance. He needed to leave soon.

Tag: Any at the Spaceport

OCC: Interior layout and view of the paitjob of the Firestar Deckplan Image Exterior

 

IC :: Kev-Mas Colcha and Brinlon Vosk
Tomb of Marka Ragnos, Korriban

"Yup," nodded Kev-Mas, "We'll be taking the Crimson Phoenix, or in this case, the Maroon Mantigrue, a Slayn and Korpil VT-49 Decimator."

Kev-Mas paused for a second, and with a smile, began to boastfully describe his ship.

"She's a fine ship that has enough firepower to take down a Corellian Corvette, if in the right position. We're gonna need you and Rune up in the Turrets, however, in the event we need to defend ourselves."

"Anyways," said Brinlon, changing the subject, "My Lord, do you have any idea what we are going to do about our armor?"

TAG :: The_Loyal_Imperial, kit-kenobi, NickLitYouAflame

 

Alec Garonnin
Tomb of Marka Ragnos ? Korriban

It really was quite a fine scepter. Over five thousand years old, and still radiating enough dark energy that the power could be described as oozing from it. Ignoring the officers gathered behind him for the moment, he turned the scepter over, and grasped the handle that was protruding from the bottom end of the scepter. A single pull, and long blade slid effortlessly out from within the scepter. A true Sith sword, no doubt one of the last of its kind to exist in the galaxy. Many of the Sith lords of old had wielded such blades, such as Marka Ragnos, Ajunta Pall, Ludo Kressh, and even Naga Sadow. But that was before the invention of the lightsaber, and it had since fallen into disuse among his dark brethren.

Turning his attention back to his assembled followers, dark and deadly blade still in hand, he answered the question that had been posed by the commander of his forces. "Take your flagship and personal fleet with you. Parade yourself around like the ruby-throated kete, if you must. Make a show of it, and distract the Empire from our true intentions." The Dark Lord had thought the meeting done, but apparently the Grand Admiral disagreed. He wished for more allies, it seemed. Perhaps he ought to show the man one of the Sith rituals, demonstrate to him the real power at their disposal, that no mere ally could ever hope to match.

Still, he would need an answer. "The Corporate Sector, as you appear to have overlooked, is one of our most noble allies. The Hapans, it seems, have chosen to place themselves on the side of the Galactic Alliance. However, your proposal is not completely lacking in merit. We shall approach both Black Sun and the Hutts. One ought to bring the other running anyways; I hear the Hutts have had close dealings with them in the past. Of course, we need not advertise Black Sun's allegiance to us, once we have it, for they are not a recognized political entity. Do you find this arrangement to your satisfaction, Grand Admiral?"

The next dispute, it seemed, came from the former soldier, Vosk. Adopting a sickeningly pleasant tone, Alec responded to his query. "That is precisely what I'm telling you to do. Unless, of course, you expect that you will be permitted entry to the Imperial Palace in full battle armor and armed to the teeth with visibly illegal weaponry? I'm sure they would make haste to invite a party dressed for battle to tea with the Princess. You will be supplied with four ooglith masquers, biotechnology supplied from our allies, the Yuuzhan Vong. They will disguise your appearance, though you may feel a degree of pain when using them."

The soldier and Mandalorian would have no idea of who or what the Yuuzhan Vong were, of course, but things would be clear enough to the High Inquisitor. Leaving the minions to argue amongst themselves, the Dark Lord turned his attention to the mechno-chair, which had just scurried back into the room. From the rapidly-blinking panel mounted on it, connected to his comlink and holonet connection, it seemed that he had message waiting and someone on hold. The comlink itself he had left in his personal quarters, a ways away from the chamber he was currently in. He despised being interrupted when in meetings. He waved the chair away, he would deal with whoever wished to speak to him when he was done with this briefing.

"Now, do any of you have any other issues with the plan, or may we return to our regularly scheduled programming?"

TAG: NickLitYouAFlame, AvatarOfYunYammka, kit-kenobi, Kev-Mas_Colcha

 

Colonel Trins Oldin
Sienar's Pub, Imperial Center

Oldin noticed the change in the gentleman's behavior at the comment about hiding. Of course, the Colonel had merely been joking, but there was an old saying about every joke having an element of truth hiding deep within. What was the this man hiding? Even if the guy did have a record or something, Oldin had no idea about it. Although Trins was quite intelligent and an excellent analyst and linguist, he was not a human protocol droid or database. If he had wanted, the ISB Colonel could have brought in this guy and his Wookie comrade for questioning, but that was not Oldin's style. No, if this man was guilty of something, Oldin would allow him to show himself before making an authoritative move.

"Name doesn't ring any bells,"

"I see," was all the Colonel could say as he retracted his hand and sighed to himself. Another confirmation that something was not right. Refusing to shake a man's hand was considered a base act of rudeness and one that usually would draw attention to oneself. Again, the question loomed in Oldin's mind: what is this guy up to? What was he hiding? Or was he merely just a rude sort of person? Trins had run into that personality many time in the past; unfortunately, many of them had been his fellow Imperials.

"Look, me and my partner are a little pressed for time[.] So, I'm sure you'll understand if we can't stick around and chat for a while. Time is money, and all that, right?"

"I understand. It was nice meeting you," Trins spoke neutrally, stepping out of the way for the man and his Wookie. It was a dangerous idea to stand in a moving Wookie's path. That species was known--was infamous--for their temper and strong physical strength...a very dangerous combination indeed. As soon as they had walked past him, Trins let his eyes follow the backs of the two figures (a Wookie was tall enough to make picking one out in a crowd--unless it was a crowd of fellow Wookies of course--quite easy.

Oldin would follow them and maybe find out something interesting. The one problem for the Colonel was his uniform. Even among Imperials, his cream-white tunic and black trousers stood out. Although the ISB was fairly sizable (bigger than their organizational opposition: Imperial Intelligence), it was still not very common to see a uniformed Imperial Security Bureau officer walking around.

As soon as the man and Wookie would finally exit the pub, Trins would carefully trail them. Where would it lead though?

TAG: Solo, anyone else

Grand Admiral Nial Declann
Tomb of Marka Ragnos, Korriban

Declann watched the Dark Lord fidget with that scepter or whatever it was. Although it appeared to be an archaic weapon, there was a certain beauty to it. Only a fool denied the importance, the power, of history. Many modernists viewed themselves as the highlight of existence...as though nothing grand, or even good, preceded them, but Declann knew that was simply not true. In terms of the Sith, the supremely powerful Lords and Masters had lived many millenniums ago. Supposedly, many of those blades had been designed with some special alloy that even lightsabers could not break.

"Take your flagship and personal fleet with you. Parade yourself around like the ruby-throated kete, if you must. Make a show of it, and distract the Empire from our true intentions."

"As you wish, sir," he answered dutifully. Even if the Grand Admiral felt this to be a foolhardy operation, he would still carry it out to the best of his ability...with reservations and all. And, if it did succeed, it could not be denied that it would be a great morale boost to the Sith Order and its followers. Maybe it would work...hopefully, the plan would be successful.

"The Corporate Sector, as you appear to have overlooked, is one of our most noble allies. The Hapans, it seems, have chosen to place themselves on the side of the Galactic Alliance. However, your proposal is not completely lacking in merit. We s

 

IC: Grayson Handor
~Sith Academy Grounds~

As Grayson was talking to the Grandmaster, a woman dressed in torn and ragged black robes approched them talking in a weird manner and saying things about a Dark Lord. {i]What is this? Is there another I should be talking to?[/i]

"Who is this woman and why does she talk to us in such a way? Are you not the leader of the Sith?" Grayson put a second hand on his staff, "What is this treachery. Tell me the truth, who are you? This is not the basis of good negotiations."

Tag: Rilwen and Despised

 

IC :: Kev-Mas Colcha and Brinlon Vosk
Tomb of Marka Ragnos, Korriban and the Crimson Phoenix aka the Maroon Mantigrue

Kev-Mas then, turned to his new "crew" and showed them the way out of the tomb. "Now we shall meet at my ship, from this point on to be called the Maroon Mantigrue."

With that, Kev-Mas and Brinlon ventured off to the Starport in which the Ship was parked, followed by the remaining two crew members.

When they got there, Kev-Mas ushered the crew up the loading ramp, and twitched his cybernetic eyes just a bit, and the door unlocked and opened, allowing them onboard the ship.

They then followed Kev-Mas shortly to the briefing room, and Kev-Mas then began to brief them on the mission.

"In order to capture the Princess, we need to have the right plan. We have the disguises already, thanks to the Yuuzhan Vong, which will act as a cover on the streets of Coruscant. We will ditch our normal clothes for a "uniform" consisting of a belted pilot's jacket, and black pants with a red stripe down the side. This will allude even more to the guise that we are the crew of a Light Courier Vessel. Brinlon, go get yours, and the 3 extras you have."

"Yes, Captain," said Brinlon, before leaving the room to retrieve them.

As soon as Brinlon came back, Kev-Mas continued.

"On Coruscant, we will stick around just long enough to find an easy opportunity to capture the Princess, by looking for events happening of which she attends. An easy opportunity, would be defined as an event happening at a less strictly secured venue, or one that has easy access, whether it be a Sewer line running to or through it, a ventilation shaft, an open window, or anything else that we can fit through. We will need to use stealth, and as much of it as possible. Rune, you will help me keep an eye out with the force for any possible dangers as well as help me capture the Princess, while Brinlon and Jace can stay with the ship, nearby so we can call them in when the job is done for a quick getaway. We will be wearing our normal attire to capture the Princess."

Kev-Mas paused for a second to take a breath, and then continued, "So, any questions, or any objections to the role you have, or any possible new ideas?"

TAG :: NickLitYouAflame, kit-kenobi

 

IC: The Myth, aka Horido Riisar
Mos Eisly Spaceport

As he finished whipping his rag out, as water was too precious a comodity on this force forsaken world he felt a sligt tingling and noticed two interesting individuals out of those that passed by. One that seemed to fear him or have some repulsed distaste, as the odor practically roiled off of him, possibly worth investigating.

The second was more a curiosity, the person at first seemed prepared to shout at him, but then curiously brightened and walked away as if such a sight was beneath him now. Most likely one who had many credits from a job, and if the demeaner was right it was a similar one to his own stage role, that or else one inflated with love. But he seriously doubted that love could even overcome the stentch and vile of this place, not to mention the actual facilities, which made him a possible meal ticket.

True, he did have his own funds from some of the missions he had undertaken, and those that the Saarai-Kaar had given him to start out with. It was still best though to touch them rarely and if possible send some cred back home.

Stopping a low life that seemed to fit the bill he hefted the small Ranat off of the ground to be eye to eye. "I didn't do anything!" the small rodent squeked.

"But you will, attach this to that retreating fellows ship when it isn't paying attention. And in a lip or other less noticable place, return here in one hour and if you succeeded I will give you a fifty credits and your life. Deal?"

Nodding furiously the Ranat snatched the device out of his hand after being dropped to the ground and ran from shadow to shadow in pursuit of the mystery man. It hadn't even required the force, only the promise of credits and a death threat to strengthen the critters resolve.

Maybe not his best work but now with it taking care of one piece of business he was free to see about this fearfull individual.

A few minutes later...

Coming around the corner he saw the individual loading something aboard his ship, a messed up Ghtroc 720 by the looks of it. Not the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Looking at the man which was obviously looking at him, must of seen some action or a spy movie to be cautious enough to not keep his back to the main entrance, but definately not a master of either. Interesting.

The direct approach would seem best then, "Pray thee well fair spacer! What, pray tell, brings one such as yourself into these parts? The food and women surely aren't that good?"

TAG: Star, Kahn_Iceay (For Ranat success or failure), Any

 

Xander Malifi
Sith Academy/Landing platform~ Korriban

As the two continued to walk toward the privacy of the Academy the Saarai-Kaar spoke of his intent in coming to the Sith, "The reason I am here is that the galaxy is splitting. Even an apprentice can feel that in the Force. We have prided ourselves on our secrecy for many years and generations, but now we have realized we are too small of a force to be taken seriously in the larger scheme of things. We need to side with one of the major factions to protect our home and our order." He looked over the academy and saw the newer Sith training. "But let it be clear, we are not bowing down to you. We are your allies, not your servants or your pawns. We ally with you because like us, you have a hatred for the Empire and the Jedi."

The Saarai-Kaar wrapped up his comments, looking Xander directly in the eyes, "If those terms are acceptable, we would gladly ally ourselves with your Sith Order Mister Malifi."

The Grandmaster smiled disarmingly at Grayson, "Of course those terms are acceptable," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "this order is far different than what most perceive the Sith to be. We are not at war to subjugate the entire population of the galaxy, but rather to bring order and stability to them." Before Xander could continue they were interrupted by a most disturbing individual, Poison.

"Dark Lord should be told that Saarai-Kaar is here," the very sound of her voice made Xander cringe, "Greeting newcomers is good. Poison will tell Dark Lord of newcomer." Though the Grandmaster's anger was aroused, he revealed no outward sign of it and even concentrated to ensure that the Saari-Kaar would not pick it up through the Force.

"What is this? Is there another I should be talking to?" The Saari-Kaar demanded, obviously upset by the implications of Poison's words. "Who is this woman and why does she talk to us in such a way? Are you not the leader of the Sith?" He questioned Xander while placing a second hand on his staff to show the seriousness of the situation, "What is this treachery. Tell me the truth, who are you? This is not the basis of good negotiations."

Xander succeeded in suppressing his growing irritation, though it was becoming harder to do so. "I assure you nothing I have told you is false." The Grandmaster then motioned towards the Saarai-Kaar's staff, "There will be no need for hostilities Lord Handor, besides, negotiations go much smoother without the use of weapons." The Sith added.

With daggers in his eyes he then looked at the ragged creature who had interrupted, "This is Poison and as you can see she is quiet literally insane, the dark side of the Force has that effect on some I am afraid." He commented with a mocking grin toward her.

"But to answer your question, and make my role here perfectly clear Lord Handor. As I stated earlier I am the Grandmaster of this Academy, and as you came here it is my duty to welcome you as such." With reluctance he decided to inform the man of the Dark Lord, "The leader of the Sith is Dark Lord Sanguinis, though as he is presently occupied it is left to me to welcome you," Adding, "and it would be improper to neglect an esteemed delegate such as the Saarai-Kaar of the Jensaarai."

Having smoothed over the "misunderstanding" as best he could, he again motioned toward the academy and invited Grayson to join him. "If you please Lord Handor, I would love to show you my academy and discuss how our two orders can mutually benefit each other."

Looking now to Poison, "You are dismissed, and free to inform the Dark Lord of our visitor if you wish." Knowing full well that the Hand usually did as she pleased, and that she very well may follow them around the academy for the rest of the day if she felt compelled to do so.

Tag: SWBob, Rilwen

OOC: I almost feel bad describing your character that way Ril but she is crazy and half of

 

IC: Dade Leviathan
Mos Eisley Spaceport

Entering the spaceport, Dade noticed a few other people entering as well, two of them being figures he remembered from the Cantina. He doubted they were following him, but he gave them a wide berth just in case. He wasn't in the mood for talking, and he certainly wasn't in the mood for talking with anyone who frequented this spaceport. Not that he despised them or feared them. It was just that most spacers who frequented the Mos Eisley spaceport weren't exactly the type to engage in stimulating conversation. Frankly, Dade was in no mood to discuss who had the biggest bounty on their heads, or who was going for said person with bounty on their head, or whose mother looked like a Gamorrean. To him, that wasn't very stimulating conversation.

He had no need for a bounty hunter, and so continued walking towards his ship. He doubted his ship was one of the fastest or best armored ships in the spacesport, but he didn't doubt that it probably at least looked expensive. A nubian J-type yacht usually didn't go unnoticed in a spaceport. It had a decent security system installed, but Dade certainly wouldn't put it past anyone to at least try and steal it. They would fail of course, but he didn't doubt that people on this planet were stupid enough to at least try it. Getting up to his ship, however, he found that nothing had been put out of place, and he then boarded the ship after deactivating the alarms and security field.

Settling himself in the captain's chair after entering, he sighed and rubbed his eyes a bit as he thought about a plan. The galaxy's current state was certainly in disrepair. It wouldn't be easy for him to find a balance point, if there even was one. Pulling the bottle of firewater out of his pack, he took it back to the storage bay and placed it inside a special container made especially for alcoholic drinks such as wine, whiskey and firewater. Making his way back to the cockpit, he powered the engines up and say in thought as the ship warmed itself up. Pulling out his datapad once more, he sighed as he flipped through the entries. Mon Calamari seemed the most likely place for the Rebels to be staying, and he knew that Coruscant was definitely the headquarters of the Empire. But where would the self-deigned Sith be quartered? Korriban was certainly too obvious, wasn't it? Dade put the thought out of his mind. He wasn't going to go looking for the Sith. But he needed some way to observe both the Rebels and the Empire without being detected. That meant that Coruscant was certainly out of the question. He wouldn't be able to get within 100 light years of the system without being questioned.

Sighing, Dade finally made the decision that more thought was needed before he entered into a system where the Rebels or Empire were extremely numerous. So after a few more flips of the pages on the datapad, Dade finally put in the coordinates for the Hoth system. As his ship rose out of the Spaceport and he piloted it towards the Atmosphere, he took one more look towards Mos Eisley before blasting into space and popping out into hyperspeed.

Tag: Anyone/No one.

 

Morva
Firestar/Mos Eisely Spaceport


Morva was doing his last check before takeoff. At this exact moment however, he was looking over his engines to make sure there wasn't any build up or something to block the thrust. For the mission he was about to undertake, having his engines at anything but maximum efficiency would be horrible. Especially considering the prospect of having to dodge fire from a Strike-class cruiser.

The engines looked fine, and Morva checked them off the list on his datapad, the last thing to be looked at. Done, he stepped around the side of his ship and saw a Ranat hovering near his port wing. ?Hey!? he yelled rushing forward and grabbing the rodent and lifting it up. ?What were you doing!??

?Nothing! Your ship. Very pretty it looks! Was admiring it!? the pathetic excuse for a sentient creature yammered, obviously in fear for its life. Morva looked the wing over, not seeing anything that stuck out. No bombs, nothing he could tell. ?Alright.? He threw the creature down to the ground. ?Get out of here, if I see you again I'll shoot you.?

The thing got up and scurried off to another part of the space port. ?Stupid little rats...? he said as he climbed up into the Firestar and Shut the hatch, sealing it. A moment later he was in his chair and firing up the ships engines. Confirming his clearance he eased the ship up off the ground kicking up dust and easing the ship into an accent angle.

Morva eased left to avoid a ship taking off at the same time and nearly did a double take. ?A Nubian Yacht? Kriff someone must be lost to have brought that here.? Shaking his head he accelerated forward through the atmosphere and out of the desert worlds gravitational pull before leaping into hyperspace towards Contruum.


Tag: Mitth, any who saw him take off and want to comment.

 

Mandator-II Class Star Dreadnaught ? Ascension | In orbit of Imperial Centre
Grand Admiral Randal Duflin

The night had been calm for this grizzled space veteran for the first night in many months. The night held nothing but calm sleep for him, choosing to keep the nightmares and loneliness at bay. Perhaps it was the pillow he slept with last night that gave his mind the feeling that he was not alone, but with someone he loved yet again. He had not moved from the position that he fell asleep in last night, with the pillow between his arms acting as a warm body for him to grasp. Shifting slight to his side as his mind awoke; Randal did not ponder the reason for his calm sleep. He rather chose to accept it without question, for his peaceful sleep was an unexpected blessing for him. His eyes began to open slowly, allowing them to adjust to the low ambient lighting he preferred in his room. It was just enough light to allow him to see the time on his wall clock. He had overslept. Such an act was a rarity for him, since many of his night left him awake and without REM sleep. Tonights rest had left him rested, energized, and calm.

Randal found himself moving a bit faster during his morning routine after his rejuvenating sleep. Everything he did to clean himself up seemed to leave him with a feeling of exhilaration, as if he could truly feel that his body was alive. The feeling was not lost on Randal, for he decided to take just a few minutes longer this morning to tackle the grey hairs in his facial hair. He was tired of feeling old, and grey hairs were not something that helped this problem. Having his goatee return to the deep black of his natural hair color seemed to take years of the Admiral?s face. The deep obsidian color of his hair contrasted perfectly with the stark white of his Uniform. Randal Smiled. Placing the last of his four rank pens into its place, Randal let his eyes focus back the mirror. With his neatly trimmed beard and his crisp white uniform, Randal concluded to himself that his presentation would have been professional and appropriate enough for a private audience with Emperor Palpatine. However, emperor Palpatine was now deceased, and meeting the current emperor was not on today?s agenda.

Randal?s eyes glanced over to the window, as if something was moving just outside the hull. If you keep seeing things, people are going to think you?re senile Randal. Still, he looked for a second more at the window, seeing if indeed there was anything outside the ship. Instead, all he could see was the movement and lights of the every busy planet of Coruscant. Giving it no more thought, he moved away from the window and walked towards the door. Grabbing his pad from his nightstand, he turned the lights out in his room, and made his way toward the bridge.

Upon his arrival to the bridge, he headed straight to the bridge officer on duty, Captain Leeds.

?Captain, the rest of the fleet should be arriving shortly, along with a special operative from Imperial Intelligence. Grant them all docking privileges when they arrive, and have them sent to my ready room. Also, the transports should be arriving from Coruscant carrying the last of our troopers that were away on leave. Have them settle in and report to their general quarters.?

?Aye sir. Here is the status report of the ship from the previous bridge shift.?

Nodding slightly, Randal extended his had to take the datapad from Captain Leeds. ?Excellent. Contact me in my ready room once our visitors arrive. Make no delays in escorting them to my ready room. Make preparations for the fleet to move out. We shall be departing once everyone is onboard, and the mission briefing is complete.?

?Yes sir? replied the captain.

Giving Captain Leeds a salute, Admiral Duflin retreated from the bridge to his ready room. Looking over the data from the previous shift, Randal looked intensely at the sensor readings from the past 2 hours. Nothing unusual appeared in the sensor logs. See? Nothing

 

IC: Preston Darmal
Souls Fire, Mos Eisley Spaceport

The Souls Fire looked slightly more beaten up than Preston would have liked, several blaster fire marks were visible on the ship and it looked overall very dirty. The engines and hyperdrives hadn't been checked in quite some, and the cargo hold lifts sounded as though they were hundreds of years old. He would have to live with it for now, and at least the ship still functioned well enough, though he thought that maybe at the next space port he would pay to get it cleaned, both inside and outside and get some engine maintenance done.

He pushed the last storage container onto the cargo and engaged it to elevated back into the cargo hold when he saw the same Rodian that was beating his rag against his hangar wall earlier. Again Preston's spine tingled, but he shook the feeling as the Rodian approached him.

"Pray thee well fair spacer! What, pray tell, brings one such as yourself into these parts? The food and women surely aren't that good?"

Preston looked at the rodian, he was wearing black robes with some sort of armour underneath, at least he assumed it was armour, other than that though he just looked like a Rodian Bounty Hunter but he could have been wrong.

"You're right the women and food isn't that good. Unfortunately this hole was the closest world when I realised I was out of food and other needed goods."

He didn't feel like indulging the stranger into the more real reason he had stopped by on Tatooine in case he was a spy of some sort he didn't want to give away anything, and if he moved in the right circles then he would already know who he was. Preston wondered if the Rodian had any connection to the other Bounty Hunter.

"And how about yourself? Why are you here? Those robes aren't the usual attire for around here, I take you're a Bounty Hunter? Always happy to met your kinda, unless you've come to collect.."

Preston faded off the sentence, it struck him that the Rodian may know of his Alliance connections and was here to collect a bounty, he pulled his arm around to his back to check at least one of his bryar pistols were there. He didn't want to cause a scene but if this Rodian was here to kill him he wasn't going to let that happen, even if it made little sense that he would have bounty on his head, not to mention he covered his tracks pretty well. He dropped his arms back to his front realising that the stranger was most likely not there to kill him and let out a grunt.

"..though I doubt that"

TAG: Mitth, any

 

IC: Jace Valo
Aboard The Crimson Phoenix aka the Maroon Mantigrue, Korriban

Jace waited for Kev to finish the breifing. The part about not being able to wear his armor worried Jace, for he had not been on a mission without it in sometime but, he remembered the Mando'a saying "Verd ori'shya beskar'gam" or a warrior is more than his armor. Which Jace fully beleived, he just felt more comfortable with it. "Wait, what about weapons? Almost all of my weapons are to large to be concealed." he thought to himself.

A moment after Kev had finished the mandalorian spoke up, "What are we doing about weapons, and restraining the target once we get her aboard the ship?"

TAG:Kev, NickLitYouAflame

 

IC as Kane Lavos, piloting the Obsidan Apollo, prior to docking procedures with the Mandator-II Class Star Dreadnaught Ascension

He allowed his hands to gently cradle the yoke as he watched in silence, a Grand Admiral begin his day.
Unusually calm. Doesn't fit with the rumours at all. I wonder...
A quick survey confirmed, no alcohol in the room. That wasn't the pattern of behaviour expected from one such as Duflin was rumoured to be. This was every bit the sort of man that fit with the propaganda: a man who took the same care with his appearance as he did his duty.

A man who slept soundly and put on an appearance to match the strength within.

A few clips and a clean, and he looked young, vital and full of purpose.

Not like the stories at all...

Feeling somewhat more confident and settled having taken a private measure of the man, he brought the ship around and past the forward viewport, de-cloaking in front of a bridge full of suddenly alarmed naval officers.

He flicked the comm. "This is Intel-0331, Obsidan Apollo, requesting docking codes for the forward hanger bay, please acknowledge."

He had to hand it to them, they were quick. He could almost see the Captain reach for his comm ahead of the rest of the crew.

"This is Captain Leeds of the Ascension, you are expected Intel-0331. Follow the procedures outlined on the frequency to follow."

"Acknowledged." Lavos brought the TIE Phantom around and followed the vector being filtered through to his ships navicomp, flicking over to manual so he could bring the ship in himself. It had been a long time since he'd flown in battle, so very chance to keep his skills sharp was too important to ignore.

He brought the ship down onto the deck softly, what traders referred to as the 'first kiss'.

Double checking all his security systems were in place, he alighted to the floor, taking the time to assemble his bag and place it to the clean deck, beside his gleaming booted heels as they clicked to attention.

"Chief Inspector Kane Lavos. I'm expected. Which one of you will guide me to the Admiral?"

A young lady wearing the rank of ensign stepped forward, and soon enough they were off.

Kane Lavos would soon be able to look at the public face of the Admiral, compare it with the private one, and see if his measure of the man was indeed all it could be.

This would be an interesting mission indeed.

TAG: Thok, and all the other folk assembling for this mission.

 

IC: Captain Maia Savanche, ISD Endless

Imperial Center

The reply from the Ascension came almost immediately: as Maia had expected, her presence was required on the Grand Admiral's flagship for a briefing. She nodded to her exec. "Prep my shuttle for an immediate launch. Lieutenant, you have the bridge."

"Sir."

A brisk walk later and Maia was aboard one of her Lambda-class shuttles, the Endless Fire, flying across space to the Ascension. The pilot, a young man who had been a TIE pilot until a head injury forced him out of high-stress combat environments, handled the docking procedures with customary efficiency, and soon they had touched down in the Ascension's forward hangar bay.

Upon disembarking, Maia was immediately met by a young naval officer. An ensign, by his insignia; less than a year out of the Academy, by his age. "Captain Savanche?" he said, saluting. "I'm to show you to the Grand Admiral's ready room, sir. If you'll follow me?"

Maia nodded and returned the salute. "Lead the way, Ensign."

TAG: Thok, PoT, Becca, Sarge

 

Captain Kallipso Stavus
Onboard the Vindicator, over Imperial Centre

"Prepare my shuttle," Stavus ordered as she received the short reply from the Ascension. Next she turned to Grohen. "Lieutenant, the bridge is yours." The captain then quietly left the bridge, hoping that Grohen would be up to the task for now. It was simple enough, but Stavus had reservations about leaving the ship in someone else's hands when she was not within easy reach. Trsut was hard to earn on her ship.

A short while later, Stavus was on her shuttle, the Vindicator's Pride, waiting for her pilot to dock with the Ascension. The pilot was good, one she trusted to get things right, but this situation required more that "right". Everything had to be perfect. This was the Grand Admiral after all.

Stavus' preoccupation with perfection lasted until the ramp of her shuttle descended. After thanking her pilot, the captain drew herself up and marched into the hangar. An ensign was waiting for her there and immediately headed for the Grand Admiral's ready room. It was time to see what they had in store for Stavus and the Vindicator.

TAG: ramza, Thok, PoT, Xany, Sarge

 

IC: Lieutenant Jad Grohen
Onboard the Vindicator...

---

The captain had just left, and Jad glanced around the bridge. Several crewmembers' eyes were still on him. He shifted about awkwardly. [i]Okay, just... take command...[/i] he thought to himself, drumming up his inner reserves of improvisational leadership.

"Don't stare at me, the leave schedule is clear and conspicuous. Those on leave, enjoy your rest. The rest of you, resume your duties." It had done the trick, and soon the various members were either getting back to work or shuffling out the door. That had gone surprisingly well. A slight grin betrayed Jad's thoughts. A little power was somewhat nice, he decided.

For an exceptionally brief moment, a crazy thought flashed across his mind. He could take the ship, run off, explore the galaxy...

He quickly dismissed the notion. That wasn't what [i]he[/i] would do. Not Lt. Jad Grohen, second-in-command of the VSD [i]Vindicator[/i]. No, that was something [i]Bik[/i] would've done. And where had that gotten Bik? Missing in action deep in Rebellion space, and more than likely dead. No, he was quite content the way things were. He settled into his usual seat, slightly uncomfortable with the notion of sitting in the Captain's Chair. He had a long way to go, obviously...

[b]TAG:[/b] Captain Stavus, (others on the [i]Vindicator[/i]...?)

 

Of Rune Fanuc
The Crimson Phoenix, Korriban

Rune snorted. His voice came out quiet, yet sarcastic and mocking. ?Is your skill not defined enough to restrain an adolescent girl, Mando'ade??

Rune faced Kev, the effective leader and highest ranking soldier on the ship. He spoke frankly with the High Inquisitor, now ignoring the others. He saw nothing remarkable about the man?s factotum and Rune was barely restrained from assaulting the bounty hunter, who was crude and impertinent. ?I understand and respect your plan, my Lord.?

Rune forced the words from his throat. He was of half a mind to suggest that he, alone, should subdue the princess and transport her back. He had more than enough skill with defending against a lightsaber and quick combat. But, Rune was, indirectly now under the command of Kev-Mas and he would not contradict the Inquisitor.

Tag: Kev and kit