SWRPF Archive Blood Moon Plague

IC: Grand General Alex Pratt

Hours had passed since the old freighter had entered hyperspace and Pratt was now locked in a tiny cabin stripped of his weapons and comm equipment.

He had removed the rest of his armor, revealing the black envirosuit beneath it. Blood had caked around the wounds in his shoulder and side, but the pain seemed to be getting worse. He hoped the two wounds weren't getting infected.

Pratt stood up as the cabin door was opened and two rebels covered him with their blasters.

"What do you want?" Pratt asked indignantly.

The two rebels stood silently until one motioned for the Grand General to stand and follow, which he did. He was led to the cockpit where the commander waited.

"Hello Mr. Pratt, I trust your accommodations are suitable?" The commander didn't wait for an answer before he laughed.

After regaining his composure, the commander continued, "Sorry for the humor, but you'll understand how tragic and depressing this war is."

Pratt nodded, agreeing with the rebel commander on that point, "What do you want with me? The Empire won't negotiate with terrorists, not even for the life of a Grand General."

The commander smiled lopsidedly, "What I want is to kill Grand Admiral Curkkan..." He paused to let his words sink in, "...and you're going to help me."

TAG: Anyone involved

 

IC Dajiri

She holds the gun in her hands and looks at Krysta. "With some practice, I believe the answer will be yes."

Tag: mort

 

Grand Admiral Curkkan had proceeded with the systamatic termination of any human aberrance on Tebosherr. It was a cleansing procedure as much as a test of his people's complience with his decrees.

If it would be tolerated for the sake of the ascendancy of man that Curkkan knew it had the potential to make, it would culminate into a galaxy dominated by humankind.

He had left Locke to piece together any loose ends on Tebosherr, and gave him as many souls as he pleased to to twist or torment to his liking. The rest of the Inner Circle besides Nemisis and Bazlind pressed forth with the fleet.

The next target in his shove into the Core Worlds was Ralltiir. The wealthiest single world in the entire known galaxy. It shared the Ringali Shell with gems waiting to be captured like Esseles and Chandrila.

Its technological advancement was second to none and would provide a plethora of needed resources for the Imperial Resurrgence Movement... especially commerce.

Disrupting the passage of liners through the Perlemian Trade Route would cripple the Galactic Alliance in more ways than one. The vast banks housed on Ralltiir's Financial District were limitless in riches.

The plunder would be great on this day. Deluging from space came the IRM's armada in a crescent formation designed to envelope the shielding planet before blockade runners could slip through.

Technicians had already gone to work to scramble communications offworld. A team had been sent beforehand to neutralize the daunting planetary shield.

His most crack shocktroopers would raid the generator facility. He didn't want the shield completely dissolved; it would be of use once Ralltiir belonged to the Movement.

An impressive array of Galactic Alliance starships and Golan II Defensive platforms surrounded the planet that was just almost as pivotal as Mon Calamari. Capturing it would deliver a staggering blow.

It was made up of 4 regiments of 1,000 XJ-wing starfighters, 500 K-wing bombers, 3 Golan II Defensive platforms, 7 Warrior-class gunships, 5 Sacheen-class light escorts, 2 Hajen-class fleet tenders, and 4 Nebula-class New Republic Star Destroyers.

The defensive garrison, though formidable as it was, probably wasn't excepting that a single figurehead in the Imperial Remnant could mold all the sectors into one juggernaut of a war machine.

The Grand Admiral stood on the main deck of the bridge. Alone. His staff waited patiently behind for the orders as to the best shuffling of forces to defeat the Galactic Alliance.

Grissom came up behind Curkkan. "Your orders, Excellency?"

<[-]> Saber

 

OOC: Sorry 'bout the double post, but it's better than using an "UP!" to do the job.

IC: It would be broadcasted back within the Imperial Remnant itself.

Grand Admiral Narev Curkkan regally wearing his creaseless, white uniform, a glistening sword slung to his side, his gold shoulder decore, and his excessive badges.

On a Chariot Lav, waving and blowing kisses to the throngs of people throwing galas for the Imperial occupation. (Of course unbeknowst to all only his supporters.)

Petals of variegated flowers were tossed, raining down around the procession of vehicles, then smashed beneath the boots of stormtroopers and shocktroopers that didn't loose a beat.

One elderly woman would be interviewed: "I think it's heroic of him [Curkkan] personally leading the charge as our savior. Crops were good under Palpatine, yet when the New Republic emerged, my husband died keeping us alive."

It would speak of how the Grand Admiral had persevered over almost insurmountable odds. Exposing the lies and deceit of the Galactic Alliance as it donwtroddens upon the common man, whereas corporate beauracrats bask in credits.

Curkkan held a grin the whole time.

<[-]> Saber

 

OOC: school has definitely started

 

OOC: Saber, can you post locke going down to the planet? because i can't think of anything!

Evil.

 

OOC: No problem, Wiggins.

The Dark Jedi Locke departed from the Lambda-class shuttle. He had demanded that an entourage accompany his appearance on the Tebosherr.

Phalanxs of stormtroopers lined his way as a few Imperial officers welcomed his arrival. Locke held his chin high as his dark countenance survayed the bizarre world.

Tebosherr was truly unique. The most common tree was a thorny giant bush, the buildings were made out of material that could congeal or become pliable upon touch.

The inhabitents were a timid race that peeked at the startling visage of the Dark Jedi marching down streets.

---

[i]Elsewhere[/i]. . . Ralltiir had not falling easily. The Imperial Resurrgence Movement had lost scores of its finest in the taking. Now, all paid homage to Grand Admiral Curkkan.

Portraits of the decorated warrior were everywhere. Grissom had been put in charge of the operation to sift through those who did not submit.

That's what brought the grand admiral to the vast housing chamber that held a multitude of these individuals.

Curkkan turned to the regional governer. "Butcher them all."

The petrifying, blood-curdling screams echoed as scythes lacerated the dissenters in one, nightmarish, bloody montage.

The regional governer leaned over a railing and discharged vomit. Curkkan turned with an amused expression. "Why, what's wrong, Governer Orfus? Squeamish? Nothing was ever accomplished in history through passitivity."

<[-]> Saber

 

*futility* UP! *futility*

<[-]> Saber

 

My Jedi's have nothing to do...and yes, school has definatly started.

 

OOC: I'm just waiting for concorddawn to reply to my last post