Star Wars Star Wars: After the Awakening

Chapter Five

Now

Tahiri Veila stared at the grove of lambent crystals, growing glassy eyed in thought at Anakin, whose lightsaber had been powered by those crystals. A small hand touched upon her hip, and she turned, looked down to Telti, smiling slightly. 'I miss him too,' the Chadra-Fan said.

Tahiri nodded, slowly. 'He would have figured out how to stop Ben.'

'Jaina tried, and she failed.' Danni spoke up, leading the weeding of the grove with Yuuzhan Vong children, delicately extricating amphistaff polyps with their own clawed tools. Polyps were one species which retained its aggressiveness in its youth, but when they matured became pliant unless moulded by a warrior, and though some Yuuzhan Vong had been allowed to do so, to protect the slow and steady colonisation of the Mobus system, it had been noticeably more difficult to bring that almost teenage angst out of the creatures since planted on Sekot, but it was necessary to protect the Yuuzhan Vong in an Unknown Regions full of Terrors.

Tahiri shook her head. 'Jaina is very direct. Ben was kept from the rest of the family in his early youth because of the Empire, and when they finally brought it all back together... Ben felt rejected. His family never met his expectations.' The words tumbled from her mouth, slowly. 'Jaina had the same issue, due to them having to be in the care of Winter, and others, away from the front, because of Leia being Chancellor, because of Imperial hunters.'

'Even a Galactic Concordance couldn't stop everything,' said Danni, huffing slightly in the heat. 'Not with Thrawn, Palpatine and Daala still around. Even then, most of the time after Jakku the Empire as a whole was compliant with the treaty.'

'I wish I had met this Ben Solo, and indeed Anakin Solo,' came the voice of Vergere, the chosen form of Sekot today, sitting on a boras branch above the grove. 'Ben seems like his soul needed much soothing.'

Tahiri looked up to Sekot, as ever slightly ambiguous towards the form who had changed Jacen so much. 'Jaina got over it. In the middle of the Yuuzhan Vong War. Ben felt more rejected than any of them, even though it was really just the way events turned out that Anakin, Jacen and Jaina ended up together from an early age, on New Alderaan, on Anoth, and so on. It was not Han and Leia's fault, but he felt they should have tried harder to keep the family together.'

'And then Snoke happened, while we were all focused on the Yuuzhan Vong War and its aftermath,' said Telki, thoughtful. 'He even felt that the focus on Anakin's death was at his expense, and Jacen and Jaina being elevated to the status of heroes beside Luke was just one more thing, especially as Ben and Jacen were quite similar in temperament and philosophical position... Before.'

'Yes,' said Tahiri, taking one more breath. 'We haven't had contact from the New Republic since we felt that... Disaster, whatever it was. And we cannot get through. At some point we are going to have to investigate, take a ship or two to check.'

Sekot extended the willowy hand of Vergere, palm up. 'There is no Jedi Order to join up with, Tahiri Veila. What would you do?'

Tahiri set her face. 'I don't know. But my instincts say it is connected to Ben, and someone needs to stop him before he does something he cannot come back from.' Into the silence, she added. 'More than what he has already done.'

'I think,' said Sekot, turning her beak up to the sky. 'You may already be too late.'

---
IC: Vima Da-Boda
Slums, Port, Reecee

The boy, Tyjah, Vima had managed to skim from his thoughts, moved behind her, seemingly sensing her positive reinforcement, though he felt slightly confused.

The officer, with teen in tow, marched up to Vima and Tyjah. 'Vima would ask what is the problem, officer.'

'Is this boy yours?' The man gruffly asked, a groomed and petulant moustache betraying that he was younger than he appeared and seemingly wished to use his height to impose authority, towering over the slight old woman. In summary, he was a small minded man, Vima judged, a kind of person she had faced many times before.

Eyeing the rank bar across his chest, Vima continued. 'Sergeant...' And, when he thought of his own name to fill the gap, snatching that information from his mind. 'Felton, Vima is indeed taking responsibility for this one.'

Beetling his brow in a scowl, the officer wondered how she knew his name but refusing to be trifled with, using his free hand to point his stun baton at Vima. 'So are you aware he is stealing, and fencing those items to this delinquent?' Felton shoved Dealer to the floor between them.

Vima stepped to turn the confrontation into a square, bringing Tyjah into it, eyeing Tyjah slightly with a look of criticism, before looking back at the other boy, who on closer inspection was bruised, his eyepatch askew to reveal it was a fake, with both eyes intact. Interestingly, he looked particularly like Tyjah, which was a curious twist.

Debating, and then deciding, Vima looked back to the officer, lifting her hand slightly, subtly, but also nudging Tyjah to pay attention, also revealing, with the lift of her arm, the lightsaber hanging from her belt, carefully, so only Tyjah would see.

'Vima thinks that you should leave us, and believe that the items you have recovered were handed in anonymously, by someone who had found them.' Vima looked at Tyjah, indicating that he should handover whatever else he had stolen. 'As were these.'

The officer nodded, repeated what she had said, his eyes out of focus. Dealer's skin went white in fear as he realised what Vima potentially was. Then he repeated Vima's next instruction. 'And Vima thinks I should go back to my speeder, and forget all about this. Perhaps even remove my moustache.'

With that, the officer left.

Vima watched him go, and then, placing a finger on her lips, bade them to follow her. Gesturing, one of the nearby sewer plates rolled away, and she directed them to her hovel under the port. The smell was... Horrendous, but she offered them food, and drink, some of which was fresh.

'Vima offers much, and more besides, for little boys playing at adult.'

The woman pottered around at the stove. There were no walls, just a slight tarp hung above, drawn over the top of blankets upon the hard floor, the stove providing food and heat, with a cable running up to one of the warehouses above. 'A cable running down people assume is connected to something important, Vima finds. They leave it be.' Boxes acted as impromptu seats, though Vima settled upon the cushions, her joints loudly cracking.

'So Vima sees that you are both orphans, and refugees. Much in common, you have, Vima thinks.' She shrugged. 'Decisions, you have to make.'

--
Spaceport, elsewhere

Walking along with four Stormtroopers was not particularly subtle, but the Reecee government was poised to be within First Order territory if matters continued as they were and the New Republic base abandoned. Offering to put in a good word with Snoke had been all that Shira had been required to do, even with zero intention or indeed ability to do so.

Following the taste of the boy within the Force had proven difficult as someone appeared to be suppressing it now. Another signature in the Force had briefly arisen, and it's imprint upon another was something that Shira had been able to follow using the oracle she possessed. It did not take much to track it to an addled police officer who was returning stolen jewellery to the precinct. Flashing the cams so that there was no record of her arrival, Shira and her troopers easily managed to wrangle a private discussion with the officer in the presence of the 'returned' items.

Warily the man watched her. His upper lip betraying that he had just shaved it. Piqued by curiosity, Shira was able to use the Force to be given the opportunity to handle the items, sampling their distinct flavour. It had been some time since she had handled something of little Tyjah's; childhood toys, a siblings head, to form a connection. With fresh imprints, Shira promptly looked at the officer, debating whether her Force flashing of the cameras would be sufficient.

Possibly not, what with more than a dozen others having seen her arrive.

With a nod, Shira excused herself from the room and noted her Stormtroopers had positioned themselves so two guarded the entrance to the precinct from the inside, one was outside, and one remained to hand to assist her. That made matters considerably simpler.

'Kill all the witnesses, and if anyone sees you, kill them too.'

Shira had no need to watch another massacre, and she simply sat down in the lobby entrance and perused the magazines there. It wouldn't be long before she could restart her pursuit of little Tyjah.

@Unaidedspud
---
IC: Crusher
En route to Yavin

The bridge of the Bellicose was silent, shock filling it. No, wait, there was the faint retching of someone attempting to hold their stomach in. And then, yes, there was the cloud of red surrounding Crusher. He was not just infuriated, he was appalled by the actions of N'Dul, him having just acceded the point that Crusher would command the Bellicose and N'Dul the assault portion of the mission.

It was literally about Aban, and now he had shown deference to Crusher, and not to N'Dul. Aban found himself, all but as white as the hair on his head, remember then-Captain Pellaeon, paraphrasing how Grand Admiral Thrawn had said that C'boath was actually a better alternative to another Vader, with his own ambitions for rule. Of course, Thrawn had been wrong, as C'boath sabotaged the clones on Wayland, but Aban could not help but think of that comment, unhappily made by Pellaeon nearly three decades ago, six months after the Galactic Concordance had originally been signed.

Aban went to prostrate himself before N'Dul, for he clearly had no choice, and Crusher moved forward, armour clacking along with him, lightsaber hilt now in his hand. Crusher had found the Knights of Ren useful as its membership was not as black and white as being darksiders only. There was more to it than that. N'Dul, however, was aspiring to behaviour more befitting that of Palpatine's court, something that even the First Order with its fascism did not aspire to recreate, the faintly jingoistic element to following a 'Supreme Leader'

Squeezing his gloved fists, Crushed stepped into the middle of the mess, gesturing with his hilt. 'I would speak to you in my chambers. Now. Captain Aban can abase himself to you later.'

Crusher did not even accept a reply, simply brushing past N'Dul, pushing aside his clique from the gangway - one fell into the crew pit with a cry - and Crusher stalked back to his room, fast enough that N'Dul would have to be seen to be visibly rushing to Crushers' beck and call, which he would not, but he would also likely look forward to a confrontation. And so Crusher had a moment to himself when he flicked open and close his room doors, seething.

With a gesture, Crusher lifted the Holocron to his free hand, surging it with the Force to speak to it. He would need to hide it in a moment anyway. Crusher was already speaking before it fully convalesced, staring into space. 'N'Dul is pushing me, acting barbarically to get a reaction from me. If I react, I reveal myself, and then -'

Crusher looked back to the Holocron, and then he collapsed to the floor as it drew his memories of it into it. A clank of his armour, and he went down like a heap.

@Dreadwar
---
IC: Fett
Yaga Minor gone wrong

The airlock cycled, and the General did not seem to be amused. Clearly, he had never heard of an 'Ultra Stygian' level of security, though had Atropos perhaps been garbed as a Knight of Ren he would have been considerably more intimidated. Boba Fett, noting the teasing 'Vhett', would have rolled his eyes had he that expressive a face, and instead he turned his back on the issue and opened the doorway.

Berrida pointed a pudgy finger at Fett. 'See here. I have been a General for many years, I am not some First Order tool who can be ordered around. Unless you immediately show me your authority, I will call security down on you!' As he spoke, he reached down for his comlink, and Fett didn't need to see how Atropos would deal with the Imperial.

He just needed somewhere to store the body, alive or otherwise.

--
Former rally area

Goran's eyes nearly bulged from his head as Susulur threw a toxic cloud at the oncoming troopers. Chemical weapons were notoriously fickle, and Goran didn't deal in them for this reason. Scrabbling to his feet and grabbing his bucket, he glanced around the edge of Slave I to see troopers literally melting in the face of the approaching wave, armour, skin, flesh, and collapsing. Pretty gruesome, and Goran felt gorge rise in his throat, pulling away before he threw up in his recovered helmet. You never did that twice.

Slapping the ramp closed as the other Mando boarded, Goran felt the ship reorient, and by the time he reached the cockpit, the ship was upright and he had to finish off by pushing off the ladder rungs running along what was the originally the floor. Reaching one of two co-pilot seats, Goran pulled himself in heavily, feeling a bruised or maybe even broken rib. Thankfully he had been most of his way to his seat before he reorient had occurred; had he been second into the ship he wouldn't have been able to do it.

As they emerged from the hole in the bay, Goran glanced the Cutlass-class corvette a moment before it flooded the viewport with green fire. The slave rig compensated by dodging, but a hair too slow and the Firespray-class ship was clipped, shields weak, and spinning. Grimacing against the inertia, Goran called out as the spin continued. 'Autopilots down, and I -' Goran winced as he strained against his results and felt something pop inside, 'I can't move.'

Behind the corvette an Imperial mark II Destroyer was moving into a position as backstop, and Goran shook his head, gesturing at the pilots chair. 'Stick is yours, friend. The names Goran. Don't scratch us up too much, Fett will not forgive you.'

TAG: Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto
---
IC: Kyle Katarn
Going up, and hopefully not down

Kyle winced slightly as the Moldy Crow pushed off the surface, blaster bolts chewing at the paint more than the hull, but that was annoying enough. Since the Order had collapsed in recent years the ship had evolved into the home of him and Jan, and thus Kyle had became defensive of it. Winking at Kodo, carefully moved and strapped in behind him by Kyle, Kyle smiled in spite of himself, especially with how Kodo had acted below, and then pushed the bravado even stronger. 'Watch the fun we're about to have with a Star Destroyer.'

The orbiting vessel was rolling to engage them, already spilling fighters into the void. Moving off to block the same route they needed to take to jump from the system, Kyle keyed the weapons controls to Kodo's console. 'Do your bit for me, would you?'

'Concentrate, Kyle.' Jan bit out, as the first of the TIE's came into rang. 'And do your bit.'

'On it, Jan,' said Kyle, smiling. Keying the com, he activated the intra-system link, the only manner of communication that seemed to unaffected by the First Order. 'Any time now, students.'

'Speak for yourself,' came a sarcastic reply, and then a click.

Three fighter craft decanted from hyperspace - a micro jump from deeper in-system - an elderly Z-95 under control of Jaden Korr, an XJ5 with Rosh Penin piloting, and a T-70 X-wing flown by Valin Horn. They veered into the side of the first TIE squadron, cutting it apart, and then re-oriented to make a side run at the Destroyer, the Crow plunging forward. Kodo would feel the edges of a combat meld reaching for him, and Kyle joined it, weaving the four together to coordinate fire against shielded TIEs and then to lob a focused barrage of torpedoes at the Destroyer bridge.

Look at you! Completely surrendering your fate! You completely disgust me.

The voice withdrew from Kodo, a presence almost sapping his strength as it went away, corresponding to when the meld drew him in. The meld have him sustenance, supported him, with Rosh's shade of guilt, Jaden's focus, Valin's wild youth and Kyle's resolute will flooding into him. They touched at the damage to him, felt it's loneliness, and sought to bind him to them in a light which no Empire could reduce.

But for a moment of praxis, Kodo would, before the meld caught him in its graceful hand, feel as if, with the voice leaving him, a moment of utter abandonment and exhaustion, and if he lost to it - or he chose to lose to it, and reach back for the voice to sustain him - the meld would not reach him, and the Jedi would be rebuffed.

Such a slip of concentration might have dire consequences for all involved.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard
---
IC: Wyn
Above Shadow, out of it

Ordinary a stun shot would have taken you out for an hour, maybe more. However, when your restraints are weakly pulled as your friend is in a rush, and a wild manoeuvre sends you head down to bash into the console of the co-pilot station, it is quite possible to wake up earlier.

'Ow,' said Wyn, pained. The woman rubbed her forehead, felt a cut split upon it, and then looked up, eyes widening and a surge of adrenaline waking him from his stupor. 'What the hell, Praxon!'

A Star Destroyer, a veritable swarm of fighters. Wyn's glance to her friend lead her to see the Rodian collapsed on the floor, who Wyn recognised from the Resistance. Pulling a tight face, Wyn said. 'Okay, I may have some explaining to do, but it is going to have to wait.'

Wyn didn't know she was on an open channel, and Bre and Elias would be equally unhappy, with little doubt, but Wyn did not hear their response, if any, as she unclipped and reached for the Rodian, patting pockets until she pulled out a datachip. Removing an adaptor from the wrist link of his chronometer, she slotted the chip onto the adaptor, and then the whole thing into her copilot station.

'The agents have the data for the jump, and I have the codekey adaptor. So unless someone nabs both of us, they don't have the full picture.' Wyn quickly downloaded the data.

'I have jump coordinates.'

Whatever Wyn had, they had a squadron of TIE fighters to deal with, the vanguard of the Destroyer, which was threading its way through local traffic and orienting itself to give a broadside to an approaching Strident-class Star Defender on the far side of the ship. The captain joined the channel. 'Resistance ships, both of you, are to surrender immediately.'

Already a dozen other tramp freighters were ensnared in tractor beams and being collected by TIEs, the captain seeking to grab the entire Resistance mission and thus under-dedicating to the two ships carrying the actual players in this ersatz drama turned real. Wyn finally noticed the others when the word Jedi came up, blinking. 'Am I giving them guys the coordinates?'

Then the others chimed in, mentioning Yavin. 'Oh, they know already.'

Another TIE fighter jumped in from hyperspace, arguing behind the two of them and orienting around fire as if a fly dodging a dazed Gamorreon swatting itself. It immediately cut across the open channel. 'This is General Phennir. I am ordering a full pull-out of the system, letting go of each of our foes. This is an unsanctioned mission.'

A switch over to the channel the two ships were using happened. 'If you surrender now, I can guarantee you an honourable parole.'

Some captain railed over the open channel, but Phennir ignored them. With the confusion raging across the system, there were openings forming in the screen of struggling freighters caught in tractors beams, misguided TIE squadrons, and now, finally, Corellian fighters rushing to engage - with their presence, not weapons, yet.

Openings that could be taken if they were willing.

TAG: NickLitYouAFlame, HanSolo29, Ktala
---
IC: Lysa Dunter
Hyperspace

Technology has evolved to the point that communications could take place between ships in hyperspace, and although nobody was talking to her, Lysa felt that many of the others were talking privately. Without a feeling of her wingman, Lysa busied herself scanning the other members of the squadron - down two members, as Kyrell hadn't joined them in hyperspace either - and collecting damage reports which were minimal for those who had made it. Her knee bouncing in nervousness at the silence, she keyed a channel to Lead. 'Sir, Seven here, I have a sitrep on the status of the other ships for you.'

She forwarded it over, and Lysa felt the need to fill the silence as their astromechs communicated. 'Sir, I don't know how I feel about an assassination and capture mission. I know the rumours about Han Solo, and Hosnian definitely happened, but I can't say with conscience what we are doing is right - taking out Snoke and Kylo Ren is hardly going to stop the Empire.'

Lysa was rambling, reaching for an emotional connection from her commanding officer. Some deeper part of her would realise she was in shock, steered geared up from the surge of adrenaline from her first combat, so suddenly began, and ended, with losses already, losses she couldn't comprehend.

Perhaps Rhoen wasn't the best person to do this with, and in hyperspace heading to a rendezvous to boot. But Lysa was who she was. Ironically, she could not be anyone else now.

TAG: @galactic-vagabond22
---
IC: Tremayne
Dantooine

Former Inquisitor Tremayne was livid. They had been so close, and by dint of his arrogance, the Jedi had escaped. The town had been shuffled away to be processed, and Tremayne had not the time nor inclination to sort through each one. 'We need to pull out,' Tremayne muttered aloud.

'Sir,' said an officer, the Stormtrooper surprised. 'We have word that a Star Destroyer is en route, as part of the invasion of the region. We need not leave now, our mission was designed to be undercover only until they arrived, you said.'

'Yes...' Tremayne drew a long breath. He had tarried too long. 'Quite.'

The man promptly dismissed the officer, and reached into the Force to conceal himself from the other Stormtroopers, touching a memory here or there, erasing himself as best as possible. In his guise as a servant of Snoke, he could not be discovered by the First Order. However, his use of the Force more or less telegraphed exactly where he was to Kam and Tionne, and also that Tremayne was making his way away from the soldiers, and the village, even away from the transport he had commandeered. Tionne's senses, not as acute as Kam's, sensed the fear in Tremayne, and she whispered to her husband. 'He's afraid of something, and it includes his own men.'

'Something more is going on here.' Tionne was not one to wait, however, and she made a decision swiftly. 'I can make a scene, and you can go and apprehend him. Tremayne must have a plan to escape beyond his troops - we can piggy-back, maybe even steal his ship.'

Tionne kissed him on the cheek, and then smiled, sadly, at their Rodian friend. 'Sorry about this.'

She lifted out her hand, and Force pushed him out of the line, sending him flying. Promptly troopers began to converge on Tionne, and she flashed Kam a grin before dashing off, lightsaber in hand but not ignited. Running away from Tremayne. The procession of villagers began to scatter, and bedlam broke out.

TAG: Tensu
---
IC: Corran Horn
Battle of Eshan

'I may have snuck my X-wing in the freighter we're using today?' Corran smiled slightly. 'The Skate is too conspicuous, though I am happy to know that I had no need to be. I'll send Mirax to have Clighal moved, and head out.' Corran gave Vincent a look, the look of a pilot eager to do their bit. 'You coming up with me? Jysella can join us if you supply her a fighter - and do you have a target in mind?'

Treen bit her lip. 'As heartwarming as this is, I am feeling the need to find a ship to depart. The sooner I head back to Kuat I can rally the planet to the cause.' She stood. 'If I may take my leave?'

'Wait,' said the aide, 'the Imperials are moving.'

--
In orbit.

The vanguard of the fleet was looking fairly chewed up, and two of the Resurgent-class Destroyers were beginning to list from the damage they had taken from that Echani flagship. However, the port and starboard wings of his fighter and transport fleet were fully deployed, and they had just backed out of the original gravity well. 'All stop, hold the line here.'

His port wing had the bulk of the drifting Bounty to screen itself, while the starboard was more vulnerable to fire. 'Shut down the Interdictor, and direct the wings to micro jump to the planet.'

On his cue, the various fighters and transports launched, past the main Echani fleet, and decanted on the planets gravity. Dozens of transports and shuttles, hundreds of fighter craft, all appearing in local space and threading the defence grid with fire. With the planet throughly enmeshed, Dorja smiled at the timing of it all, as the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer he had directed to join his forces from Forward Command arrived at a different point of the northern hemisphere to that of the focus of his two enveloping strikers. 'Have the Destroyer dismantle the planetary defences.' The overall manoeuvre had been difficult to achieve, and costly, especially as the Echani had picked away at the exposed fighter force and his smaller ships, in spite of the Lancer screen, had been damaged heavily, with several vessels out of the engagement and his Destroyers save for the Interdictor all showing signs of damage or weakening shields. In comparison the larger ships in the Echani fleet had been relatively untouched, in spite of the natural inclination of gunners to pick on the largest vessel in an enemy formation. That being said, dozens of the lesser patrol craft in the Echani fleet were broken, littering the vicinity, and the overall micro jump manoeuvre had been a movement of precision and discipline that Dorja had come to expect of the First Order recruits.

Dorja smiled, glancing to the form of Snoke beside him. He was accustomed to the Supreme Leader addressing him as a massive hologram, however today he had opted to appear as a normal sized although somewhat fall hologram, his cowl over his face and chin showing. 'Excellent work, Admiral Dorja. The other three Destroyers from Forward Command will arrive within an hour, nearly two for one.' That was a lie. One of many that had been told over the centuries. The other ships were not coming. There was no need for them, for the objective to be achieved.

Dorja clicked his heels and stood to attention, amused but pleased. 'Order the captains of those two crippled Destroyers to scuttle the ships, driving them towards the Echani formation and activating the self destruct. I expect to launch an offensive soon to break the fleet when it turns back to support the planet.'

It was all theory of course, and Dorja had no idea how strong the defence grid around the planet was. But he thought he had another three Destroyers to play with, and now he was out of the range of the defence weapons, he anticipated he could hold the Echani fleet firm.

Barely minutes had passed before that estimate was ruined, however, as two Vindicators arrived to the rear of his task force. Ordinarily two ships of that size would not be a threat for two Resurgent-class Destroyers and an Interdictor Star Destroyer, but none of them had a fighter screen to hand and the larger ships were still bruised from the battles with the Bounty. The initial barrage of fire caught all three ships by surprise and the Relentless bucked, throwing Dorja to the floor and similarly dishevelling much of the crew. Scrabbling to his feet Dorja saw that the other Destroyer was already aflame around the bridge tower, and the Interdictor was ponderously turning but taking massed fire. The only thing that had kept the latter ship in the engagement was the fact that power had not been diverted to the gravity generators. As he looked down the length of the hull, Echani fighters were pockmarking it with torpedoes that were impacting on the hull, ripping free turbolaser clusters and missile launchers.

'Damage report!'

He already knew his shields were down, and that unless he got this part of the engagement down, he would need to draw ships from the main fleet to reinforce here and that had the potential to imbalance the entire equation of the battle - especially an equation full of unknowns from the attack on Echan itself.

---
Elsewhere

What a battle did do, however, was give opportunities for entry into a beleaguered network. With a stealth equipped Fury-class starfighter, the pilot snuck through levels of security and penetrated the station grid. It was only a matter of time before the man found Michel... And ended her guardian.

Corran and Vincent would feel it simultaneously.

The man with the cowl raised placed a hand on Michel's throat as she gabbled, straining against her restraints. Tipping her head back, he could see the tooth with the data inside - a living courier - was missing. 'Where is it!' The man thundered.

A skittering, mad, mad, mad cackle. 'GaveittotheSenatorIdid.'

A gesture, and Michel died, too.

The man turned, stalking into the chaos of the hallway, merging with the shadows and hunting the Senator.

--
Less elsewhere

With Mara off the ship, even Booster could be convinced that now was the time to move towards a fixed safe haven, and that meant collecting Corran, Mirax and Jysella. When the Wild Karrde in tow, as well as a motley array of freighters that had formed the Smuggler's Alliance more than once before, the Venture decanted hyperspace above the northern hemisphere, well out of the gravity well, and saw the engagement before them.

But this was not the Venture of old. This was one which had retained its weapons from the end of the Yuuzhan Vong War, in spite of the Concordance, and in the last fortnight Talon Karrde had diverted resources to make sure the weapons had not degraded over the nine years that Booster had ran them on a smuggling kingpins budget.

And so when Booster saw the RSD pouring fire down on Eshan and the planet surrounded, Booster knew what to do. 'Open fire!'

TAG: Kahn_Iceay


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Duke Praxon
Aboard the Easy Spacer – Above Shadow

The space outside of the cockpit viewport was a perpetual blur as ship running lights melted together with the glare of the cityscape from the moon below. For someone like Praxon, who was not accustomed to the intricacies of dogfighting, the whole thing looked like one big, chaotic mess. Aside from the initial Star Destroyer that had jumped in-system, it was next to impossible to determine who was targeting them and who had simply been caught up in the web of disarray. To make matters worse, Praxon found that he could not fully concentrate. How was he to know that volunteering his time and effort to aide the Hosnian tragedy would result in him becoming a victim himself? It was like someone had ripped a page out of a holofilm script and turned it into some warped version of reality just to mess with his mind. He wasn't the type to usually admit to being shaken, but in this case, yes, he was beginning to panic.

That's why when Wyn finally came around, Praxon was not in any kind of mood to sit idly by and continue to allow her to scheme, especially after she revealed that she had known about the whole thing from the start. "You're damn right you have some explaining to do!" he affirmed, keeping his eyes on her as she moved from the console, to the rodian, and back. "Unless you intend to have me do something else foolish," he added under his breath, eluding to the confrontation he had with Sal-Solo. That prompted him to sink a little further down in his seat. That hadn't exactly been one of his finer moments…come to think of it, neither was tackling a member of the Resistance.

"The agents have the data for the jump, and I have the codekey adaptor. So, unless someone nabs both of us, they don't have the full picture." As Wyn paused to download the necessary information, Praxon watched her with mild curiosity. It was obvious he did not previously believe her capable of carrying out a task of such intrigue. He found it fascinating, to say the least. "I have jump coordinates."

"Wait…what about--?"

Before he could indicate their potential allies in the other ship, yet a another voice joined the comm, this one exhibiting the pretentious air of a First Order officer. His intentions were undeniably clear as he ordered the surrender of both ships.

"We're not the Resistance!" he ground out, pounding his fist lightly against the dash in frustration as he pulled forward on the yoke with the other to avoid a mass of fighters coming in their direction. But then his expression dropped as he remembered the unconscious rodian slumped against the deck plates. "Dammit, Wyn, I wish you wouldn't leave me in the dark next time…"

"Am I giving them guys the coordinates?"

Praxon's lips parted to respond, but then he closed them just as quickly as the pilot of the other ship – presumably the blue humanoid – supplied them with the pertinent information regarding the Yavin system. He might have been impressed with the efficiency of the delivery if not for the other point of contention that caused his mouth to fall slack.

A Jedi?! Where did he even come from? Weren't they supposed to be extinct or something?

Swallowing his surprise, his gaze flicked back to Wyn, a renewed sense of confidence evident within his eyes. While Praxon had never encountered a real Jedi before, he had heard stories, particularly surrounding the elusive Luke Skywalker. In fact, he had even co-starred in a series of films that had demonstrated firsthand what Skywalker had been capable of. If any of that was actually true – and he was well aware that holofilms had a tendency to embellish things a bit – perhaps they were in much better shape than he initially thought.

"I think we're set," he surmised, his hands now much steadier on the yoke as he took a deep breath and addressed the Jedi over the comm. "I just need to find an opening to squeeze through without one of those behemoths latching onto us."

Again, the comm crackled to life. "If you surrender now, I can guarantee you an honorable parole."

It might have been an enticing offer for someone desperate to end this madness, but it was also guaranteed to destroy his career and reputation if the truth was allowed to get out to the media. As long as the First Order continued to think that they were chasing Han Solo across the stars, Duke Praxon would remain safe and he would hopefully be able to eventually return to some semblance of a normal life – or what constituted as normal for a celebrity – once this blew over. At the moment, that was his ultimate goal.

Inhaling deeply, he surveyed the scene for that desired escape route, and after a long moment, he found it. Narrowing his eyes, he took note of the ever changing intervals between ships as they jostled for position. It will be a tight fit, for sure, but they just might make it. "Are you seeing this?" he called back into the comm, hoping the Jedi was just as observant as he was. "I'm going for it."

Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he hit the throttle.

TAG: NickLitYouAFlame, Ktala, Sinrebirth

 

Chapter Six

A dozen days ago

Zekk took a running leap across the gap between buildings, cursing that he couldn't just pull out a lightsaber for the hundredth time. If being a Jedi was a curse across the galaxy, here, on Nar Shaddaa, it was a death sentence. His score, a Sullustan who had stolen from his Hutt masters, was nothing special, and had opted to run rather than be caught. And while Zekk wasn't against declaring a kill dead and trusting them to melt away into the night if they were innocent being preyed upon, this particular crook had funnelled the proceeds into setting up his own syndicate based upon taking advantage of local homeless, especially the younger among them.

As such Zekk had no compunctions, if he resisted, collecting the bounty for his death either way. Beside him on the rooftop, Lowbacca landed heavily and released a huff of air as he did so, but that didn't stop the Wookiee from lifting his bowcaster and stunning the Sullustan before he reached the fire escape. Zekk smiled, beneath his mask. With this catch, they could afford to pay off their ledger with the Hutts and reclaim their ship.

And find out whatever had happened in the galaxy to leave Zekk screaming in the middle of the night. Rumours had abounded about an attack on the New Republic, carried by survivors of a First Order raid on Takodona, of all places. Nothing concrete though, and they needed to get back. All these years without an Order, which hadn't seemed to be an issue when Zekk and Lowie opted to become bounty hunters - taking jobs on First Order cronies and unreconstructed darks ideas for free - and now a crisis had emerged and there was no Order to face it.

Zekk turned to look at his partner, absently aware for the hundredth time today that a few years ago, before she decided to bring Ben in on her own, it would have been Jaina there, he expected to see Lowie similarly pleased.

Instead he was looking up, into orbit, at the massive triangle descending upon the smugglers moon, bleeding fighter craft and support craft.

A First Order Star Destroyer.

Had Zekk uttered a cry of 'why', he would not have received an answer from any but the highest ranking Hutts in Hutt Space, if they had intended to speak to a Jedi. A little known fact was that the HoloNet within Hutt Space was regulated by a receiver placed in the moon, negotiated millennia ago. And, as part and parcel of the First Order plans to control the HoloNet, they had negotiated with the Hutts an agreement as to their pre-Yuuzhan Vong territories, which were still up for negotiation with the New Republic, in exchange for the secret seizure of the moon. Coupled with a tribute for loss of revenue, the First Order had paid very carefully for the right, and then promptly supplied the Hutts with a contractually agreed 'bodyguard' of Stormtroopers for a duration of no more than six weeks.

Because six weeks is all that Snoke needed.

Six weeks until the New Republic was not just hanging into the edges of its grave like a feline refusing to go into the bath, but instead would be dead, buried, and not whatsoever missed by the Empire which had initially surrendered to it nearly three decades ago.

---
IC: Darth Librium
Lothal

The simulacrum came to life, starting out in a crouch, cloak draped over his head, and then stood, arms reaching out, eyes burning like twin Suns for a brief moment and then convalescing into irises, almost as if the Holocron was stretching, after years of inactivity.

Darth Librium was born anew, and impossibly so, he wore the face of Luke Skywalker, a veneer etched with a cruel smile, as the man, also impossibly, recognised who was before him. 'Ah, Master K'Kruhk, it has been a while. Or have I yet met you?'

A negligent wave of a hand. 'No matter. Time is irrelevant, when one has limitless amounts of it.' That smile again. 'Yes, I am a real, and I was created by my master, in his image, for I am Darth Librium, though I suppose you know me as Luke.

He craned his neck. 'Looks as if we have company. That bore Brandl bore a son. How quaint.'

Librium was ignoring K'Kruhk. 'Did you want to make a deal with the proverbial Sith'ari, to learn more about me, or allow me to fall into the hands of Imperials? I won't allow you to destroy me, my friend, but I might allow you to hold my interest for a day or two.'

TAG: BobaMatt
---
IC: Corran Horn
Eshan, in orbit

Corran watched the Battle of Eshan modulate. The Echani were fighting incredibly well, clearly a world which had earned its role as chief rival of the Mandalorians. Absently Corran lamented that the New Republic had treated them so badly in the aftermath, though at least it had not been as badly as the Mandalorians.

The planet was putting up a terrific fight, even with hundreds of Imperial fighters tearing into gunnery platforms, harrying battlestations and ferrying transports beyond the envelope. Sporadic fighting was taking place across the northern hemisphere, but the Resurgent that had arrived in orbit was taking a terrific beating in a short time; doubly so by a crimson Star Destroyer. Corran resisted the urge to smile as it tugged at his lips, because he always resented how much he was happy to see his father-in-law's ship.

Largely, however, he resisted the urge as he felt a death resonate in the Force. Nodding to Vincent, he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, nodding to Treen and the aide, the strange female who left an uncertain aura in the Force. 'Let's go.'

Casting out his sphere of responsibility, Corran lent the Force to his feet, and anticipated Vincent would nudge along behind him. The avenues were not especially busy, not with the crisis and people manning their stations, but a bunching of corridors give way to a space which already had two officers on the floor, life force intermittent. Corran and Vincent's eyes would not be drawn to them, however, though the time they had to save those lives would play into their thoughts.

Instead they would notice the three armoured men, each holding what appeared to be a Force pike, each masked. Corran was semi-reminded of the Jensaarai, however he knew that the parallel was purely that they were masked. These were Knights of Ren.

How they had managed to sneak aboard, let alone three of them, was completely beyond him. Corran and Vincent would suddenly be struck by a vision, lasting a mere moment, of seven Knights, with Kylo Ren foremost among them, rain hammering upon them, Kylo having just speared a soul through the back, collapsing to the floor. Three shapes behind Kylo would correspond to those before them, but the weapons did not. Corran blinked aside the vision, igniting his lightsaber, the silver blade burning bright in the room as the station shook and the dark if emergency lighting overlook them.

One Knight gestured sharply, lifting and slamming Corran and his weapon arm against the closest wall, but Corran had half-expected the act and drew a holdout blaster from his left pocket and fired as the three Knights rushed for them. Corran had a brief moment of concentration as he held onto his hilt as the Force tugged at it, as he came down to the floor with his legs curled beneath him to spring forward.

Vincent had the first round, it looked.

--

Dorja could tell that the battle over Eshan was going badly. His reinforcement was being mauled, and his rear position was being pulled apart. The Relentless was listing, and Dorja had lost contact with Snoke in the morass. But he knew he had more reinforcements en route. All he needed to do was hold position.

'Tighten up the core formation, pull them
back towards us.'

'Sir, we'll be abandoning the transports to the defence grid - you said we were supposed to push forward so the Echani fleet was caught between competing forces - our landing force is being shredded.' Dorja shot the Captain a baleful glare.

Speaking loud enough for the entire bridge to hear, he enunciated every word clearly and looked around. 'We have reinforcements on the way. The Echani will not have time to clear all of our forces out, however we need to preserve the fleet or we won't have a foothold to secure. I am not accustomed to explaining myself,' his gaze returned to the Captain. 'And I will not again.'

The fleet contracted, but the two Vindicators were well away by then due to the time wasted, and they burst through his formation, which was either midway through turning back, or out of position, and his casualties redoubled. The Echani had lost most of their patrol corvettes, and several of the larger ships were showing damage, but Dorja's position was so poor that several of the surviving smaller ships could turn back and assist with the decimation of his landing force and fighter craft.

Dorja quietly seethed, knowing that when he had his reinforcements he would pound this planet flat.

--
Conference room

Once he felt the ripple of the Force to signify his comrades had engaged Horn and Mikaru, the assassin detached from a shadow in the conference room, having snuck in while the doors were opened. His cowl was up, but in his hands was a lightsaber. It had been particularly difficult to lower his core temperature again to pass through sensors and so forth, especially as he was so incredibly angry about Michel's failure. The Dark Lord would not be pleased.

Treen noticed the arrival immediately, calling out with slight startlement before the Crimson blade activated. 'Senator,' the cruel voice spoke. 'I require the chip that was given to you.'

He gave Callista an askance look. 'Do not interfere.'

Treen already had the chip in hand, self-conscious about it and constantly having checked she had not lost it. She looked to Callista. 'Please, I would not want to be responsible for your death.'

That was a lie, but appearances had to be maintained. Vincent was a consummate man. He would be recording this. She wouldn't be surprised if he knew about the danger here, even though he himself was occupied.

TAG: Kahn Iceay
---
IC: Kyle Katarn
In orbit of Dagobah

The Moldy Crow was suddenly spouting fire in almost any direction that the turret could turn, nicking fighters and scattering a fair few. Kyle could sense that Kodo had not joined the meld, but also was flailing. Katarn refocused upon Jaden and the others, as they blew through the second squadron. A third was forming, but also the other three from the port side were forming up... And holding back.

Jan spoke up just before Katarn did. 'They're expecting us to break through the next squadron and into their guns. Don't.'

'Roger that,' came Valin.'Not doing that.' Instead of blowing through the next squadron, he broke formation, and Jaden followed with him, while Rosh broke another direction.

Jan pulled a face at Jaden and Valin. 'They should have broke three ways, not two. He's being overprotective.' Katarn glanced over at her, but Jan's eyes were catching his, with a side glance. She was hardly prone to comment upon private matters in front of a relative unknown - to her, anyway. What she was doing was drawing Kyle's eye to the sensor, which showed the pyramidal shape in Kodo's pocket. Katarn pursed his lips behind his beard.

That could be a problem.

One problem at a time, the Jedi Master decided. He pulled up the meld, looked to weave it around Kodo again. The Holocron reached for Kodo, equally, having felt the eye of the Jedi Master upon him.

Little Jedi, don't make me puppet you again. You let me in once before, and I can take you whenever I like. There was a hint of desperation to the voice, but it was all but obscured by the sounds of battle. A flash of memory would surge upon Kodo, a reminder of the pyramid being found, in the dark cave, of it being the only one who would speak to him for years on end.

Katarn broke the Crow a different direction from the others, using the gun he had under his control to tear down the shields of a TIE and reaching with the meld to coordinate so that Kodo would get the kill and hopefully disperse the flight. Then all they needed to do was get past the Destroyer, whose guns would be occupied with their own fighter craft, and then they could get on with the real work.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard
---
IC: Goran
Yaga Minor

Susular was a hot hand with a stick, which was good as Goran hated how big the Firespray was to handle. Goran took on-board the weapons platform, spitting fire at any fighters that threaded through the shipyard to intercept them, while the Defiant and Peerless were positioning themselves to block the escape. The Cutlass-class corvette was trying to find a space through the girders and so forth to move towards intercepting them.

Goran called out as his display kicked in. 'I have a signal for Fett. Adding it to the HUD. I guess he wants us to head that way.' Which of course required them to skirt the corvette's range. Helpful, Bobika, thought Goran.

Elsewhere, Fett had the hatch open and Atropos had the General. They were on-board to the hunters ship with ease. Fett reserved the right to be impressed until it flew. 'I remember when a hunter had to be subtle on a hunt. Before I was 'Boba Fett', before everyone was afraid of what I was. It's not been recent that I've had to go undercover...' Fett glanced to Atropos as he helped him shift the General towards an airlock. An assumption, from Fett's perspective, but a likely one.

'But I had to, to find out who is hiring hunters separately to hunt auretiise but timing t so that it will go wrong.' Fett paused. 'I did throw your name into the ring with Pellaeon, as compensation for in all likelihood spoiling your bounty.' Another pause, as he shed armour. 'But it seems your kill of Flennic was pay enough. But I will need your comm data for the contact to triangulate with Goran and Susular, who you left out to dry.'

It was a lot of talking. Becoming head of state of Mandalore had resulted in a lot more talking. It was why he actually had property on Taris, and took jobs from there. But with a war brewing, it had been time to be responsible again.

Or so Goran said.

'I think I'll take a backseat to whatever tie plan is.'

TAG: Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto PM me for a joint post with the three of us, please.
---
IC: Lysa Dunter
Arriving in the Yavin system

For a long, long moment, Lysa could only sit in her pilot chair and leave the channel open, listening to Rhoen breathe, as he caught his breath after that... It wasn't a rant, no, it was a release. She didn't have anything to compare to. Her background literally was not like that.

A loving mother and father, a younger and somewhat bratty sister, yes, but they had a life which was only mildly interrupted when the Yuuzhan Vong War came, and she had been safe with other children for the latter half of it, far from the front. She had signed up to fight because she could, and because her father and mother would undoubtedly track down the Resistance and join up as soon as they had all heard that Hosnian Prime had been destroyed.

'I know you're Lead, but I'm here if you need me, Lead.'

That sounded ridiculous. He was, well, he didn't appear that much older than her but he had that gravitas to him which made him seem older. Lysa decided it was best to close the channel without hearing his response, before she did something else... Angsty.

Lysa's knee was bouncing out of nervousness again.

---
Yavin system

The sixteen ship squadron arrived in the Yavin system after a relatively short jump. Travelling from the Core to Yavin via the Hydian Way hyperlane was a considerably different matter to travelling from the edge of the Unknown Regions via an artificially extended route around a rapidly moving frontline.

Three Mon Calamari cruisers and a task force was in-system, and then all of sudden there was a third of that number in-system, as the Home One and Echo of Hope and their escorts jumped. The remaining cruiser was the Naritus, still under the command of Captain Genkal, who had been convinced out of retirement by Ackbar by the thought of captaining his old ship. An MC80a, it had been in the New Republic Navy since before the Corellian Crisis, decades ago, and it was Genkal's first love, brood partner and school of children aside.

All of a sudden, a strong voice came across the channel. It was General Leia. 'Captain Aquilla, Corona Squadron, welcome to Yavin.'

'I have had word from the Galactic Voyager, Captain. Chief of State Omas escaped from the Ruan system with minor issue, and is on its way to the next rendezvous point. Well done for getting you and your squadron here,' Leia said, her charisma reaching across the channel, an elder stateswoman who had seen so, so much, and more than she had wanted to. 'Bring in your squadron, please. Corona Lead, if I could have a moment of your time first, and you stay out there, please.'

The line cut over, and next it was just him and her. The rest of the squadron headed towards the cruiser, but Corona Seven seemed to hesitate before she moved on. 'I need a moment of your time, if I could. I know Wedge told you about your mother. I am sure you have heard about my husband, too. The plan puts us in direct confrontation with the two most responsible.'

'But I want to let you know that I trust you, Rhoen, and as such I want to tell you this. If you cross paths with Kylo Ren, and if the opportunity for you to kill him to prevent his escape, rather than capture him, arises, I need you to promise that you will take the shot. But only if you can promise me that it won't come from a place of the dark side. My son needs to be stopped, at all costs. He has gone too far, but you need not blacken your soul for me.'

Suddenly a shout cut across the line as the door to her room opened in the background, a gravelly voice shouting. 'General Organa, we have a single enemy fighter inbound!'

'How?'

'It's jump coordinates match those of the Ruan system! A single TIE/SF, with one pilot. We're already jamming its transmissions.'

Leia realised who it was aloud. 'The second commando who went for Omas aboard the Voyager!' Her attention returned to Rhoen. 'You must stop that fighter jumping! The rest of the squadron won't be able to scramble in time!'

Scanners showed the fighter behind Rhoen, already looking to loop back around and gravity well of Yavin Prime and make that jump as soon as possible. With no rear gunner, it was a sitting duck, but as soon as it noticed Rhoen, it cancelled its turn and rolled to face him. The pilot was smart; it knew that it had to risk facing the only pilot that could stop its escape, rather than try for an even more dangerous run. The only miscalculation was that attempting to turn first gave Rhoen the chance to manoeuvre around too.

TAG: galactic-vagabond422
---
IC: Crusher
Personal quarters

The moment that N'Dul's hand, mental or otherwise, touched upon his form, Crusher was up, his mental hand upon the Prefect's throat, and it was a strong grip. Anger scorched the Force, and N'Dul would feel the strength of someone who was at very least a Master of the Force.

But Crusher did not remember how this exact situation had occurred, just that he was angry about it, and he knew that N'Dul deserved to die. In the frame of dark side feud, he could easily sell it to the crew, and sell it to anyone who asked.

Apart from himself.

His lightsaber was in his hand, and it ignited, a pink-purple blade emerging. With a deep breath, Crusher remembered why he was here, and released his death grip upon N'Dul. All of that took less than a moment, but it was on a precipice that Crusher had not been on for a very, very long time.

Last time he had crossed it all the way.

'What are you doing?' Crusher snarled, finding his footing but leaving his weapon ignited. 'Not specifically, with Sallacine, but generally. Supreme Leader Snoke understands the need of a good example, but it doesn't need that. The First Order and the Imperial Remnant are different, even nine years after the Battle of Yuuzhan'tar.'

Crusher squeezed his fist. 'And you are itching at that tension.'

He didn't care, either way, but he had to push at N'Dul, and hard, because this was what was he needed to do as Crusher, Knight of Ren.

TAG: Darth Dreadwar
---
IC: Wyn
Craziness above Shadow

Two ships against a Star Destroyer was one thing, but two ships in the middle of a maelstrom of competing influences, an Imperial General ordering a cease fire on all parts, and a Corellian task force caught between escalating the engagement and leaving it, could break through and push out-system.

Which is exactly what they did. There weren't words on the chaos that they had to dive through, but there was a gap, and it was a gap they could get through. All of a sudden they were through, and Wyn punched it, jumping them into hyperspace.

Strang felt Elias' ship jump too, as much as Bre did. With recent advancements in hyperdrive use, they could communicate between each other's ships while in hyperspace, which was a novelty which many were not yet used to. Wyn opened a channel for them to share, as Strang unclipped and coaxed Ematt, the aged man who Elias had made a shield of, into consciousness.

Ematt winced as the smelling salts were cracked open and Strang pumped him with a stim. Wyn spoke up first. 'Okay, first things first - I am the coordinator of a Resistance Intel cell. Second thing, I didn't know about this mission to fake kidnap you, and had I, I would have told you, Praxon. Oh, and for the rest of you, my name is Wyn.'

Wyn was out of his seat but speaking loud enough that his voice could be picked up, checking over the Rodian operative that Praxon had taken down. 'Maybe we should dock, and iron this out.'

Assuming anyone trusted a word I am saying, Wyn thought.

TAG: Ktala, NickLitYouAFlame, HanSolo29
Combo PM post, also!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

Chapter Seven

Days ago

'All rise!'

Queen Mother Tenel Ka privately grimaced as she had to be announced to a secret meeting of her military advisors. The Prince, Isolder, her father, was here, as well as many of the more militant heads of the families, Ducha's AlGray and Galney first among them. To make matters all the more serious, Ta'a Chume, the scheming former Queen of the Hapan Consortium, was present. She of course did not rise, and nor did Isolder, being as he was already standing. A warm smile touched upon his lips, and Tenel Ka returned it just before she turned to take her throne.

'You may sit,' she intoned, a slight nod of approval from her grandmother. Tenel Ka resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead maintaining a rigid stoicism. Once everyone was settled, Tenel Ka turned her head to her father. 'We would hear upon the Royal Navy with an update.'

Isolder bowed, having not sat, either. 'The warships of the First Order remain in the positions they have since the destruction of Starkiller base. A single Destroyer upon each of the hyperlanes out of the cluster, totalling six. They are not directly present either, simply aside from the traffic into and out of the system, with patrols of TIE fighters crossing into and out of hyperspace. No direct or indeed indirect harassment is occurring - they are simply there.'

Ducha Galney spoke up. 'Is it confirmed that each of these are the new class? Resurgent-class, was it? Those three kilometre long monstrosities?'

'It appears to be a purely First Order deployment, you are correct,' responded the Prince.

Ta'a Chume spat a response. 'I do not see the need to distinguish between the Remnant and First Order any longer, what with the reports we received before this infernal HoloNet blackout about the expansion of Remnant territory. They are clearly one and the same now.'

'We would not consider it wise to give up Pellaeon and the other Imperials who honoured the Galactic Concordance so quickly. Many of them came to our aid in the Yuuzhan Vong War after all.' Tenel Ka said tightly, careful not to betray the secret knowledge she possessed.

A Ducha stood up in support of Tenel Ka's grandmother, as always. 'Only after they were attacked by the invaders, Queen Mother.'

Ducha Galney snapped a response at the fool before Tenel Ka was required to have them evicted for their disrespectful tone. 'Because they had passed to the Alliance secret knowledge of the Deep Core hyperlanes, and for the Battle of Ithor, which was barely in response to the Battle of Shramar - Pellaeon dedicated himself to the Garqi feint before he even knew of that.'

Tenel Ka raised a hand, ever pleased to be defended so heartily by Ducha Galney. 'Precisely so. The situation pervades, however, that we are isolated, in more than ways than one.'

Gray scowled, beetling her brow. 'But who we do we have the ally with? With no communications outside the Consortium, no New Republic to coordinate with, and no coup throwing down Snoke, we are bereft of options save but to stay within our borders and maintain our posture.'

The Queen Mother, watching Tenel Ka with knowing eyes, spoke softly. 'And if we have more knowledge, and more allies, do we propose to strike at the First Order?'

'For impinging upon our independence, even in the slightest, we must respond,' responded the Prince, with more force than he might have with a simple Ducha.

'To what extent? To the extent that we dispatch our men and women to Coruscant all over again? Sacrifice the life blood of our people to watch the galaxy fall apart again?' Ta'a Chume shrugged on her lounger. 'We have been involved in two wars since Palpatine fell. Why should we join a third?'

Tenel Ka could only be annoyed, aware that her grandmother had manipulated the meeting thus far, as she always did. 'We would consider the facts of the matter. Had we intervened earlier in the war against the Empire, or the Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps our tragedies in those respective conflicts would have been avoided. Isolation has not protected us in the past, and I doubt it will in the future, what with the galaxy seemingly having reached a point where all of our wars are indeed all or nothing affairs. We can only blame Palpatine for that, for his invasion of our territories, which only occurred because of our isolation. We cannot expect an enemy of the galaxy to leave us alone any longer, despite our fondest wishes.'

Ta'a Chume nodded, clearly seeing the durasteel in her voice as a sign. 'I was only pointing this out so the naysayers can understand exactly what you propose.'

What she proposed, Tenel Ka noted, heaping all the blame upon her if any campaign went awry. Manipulative, as ever. She didn't dispute he need for it, however, which was especially galling. But the point was made, as was her fathers. They could not act alone, and to do so was to invite disaster.

What Tenel Ka needed was a sign.

A light in the seeming dark.

What she needed more than anything was Jacen.

--
IC: Bre - combo
On the way

Bre watched as the soldier guy, slipped a smelling salt under the other guy. The man slowly opened his eyes. As that was going on, a two way had been set up between the two ships. The guy on the other ship spoke up first. ["Okay, first things first - I am the coordinator of a Resistance Intel cell. Second thing, I didn't know about this mission to fake kidnap you, and had I, I would have told you, Praxon. Oh, and for the rest of you, my name is Wyn.'] A pause, and then Wyn added, ['Maybe we should dock, and iron this out.']

Bre snorted. "Then next time, tell your folks, that stiffing the hired held, is NOT a good way to build a relationship." She paused for a moment, and then looked over at the solder. "Hey, you got any more of those smelling salts? I think there is a guy out back, with a few cracked ribs, who probably needs to be in this conversation as well." She added with a smirk. Once she got the smelling salts, Bre headed back down, walking very cautiously, to where she had left Fox. She was NOT about to let him get the jump on her, if he was not as unconscious as she had left him.

--

Praxon exhaled deeply and pressed against the console so that his elbows were resting on the edge of the dash. Normally, he welcomed the allure of hyperspace and the few short hours of peace that it afforded him, particularly with such a hectic lifestyle, but today, it did very little to alleviate his concerns. Even as the woman’s irate response filtered over the comm from the other ship, Wyn's words continued to echo in his mind, eliciting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned his head marginally to the side to regard his long-time companion and assistant for a long moment.

A Resistance coordinator? Who was this person? He thought he knew, but now, he wasn’t so sure anymore…


Steeling himself for what was to follow, Praxon pinched the bridge of his nose and deliberately averted his gaze. “And you know what? I've changed my mind. I don't need to know anymore, so if you want to dock, you can do it alone.” He sighed, an edge of bitterness to his voice. “I think it's in my best interest to end my participation right here before things get worse."

--

Elias exhaled loudly, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath for the past minute. Bre left her seat, presumably to go check on the other passengers. Elias pulled his headset down off of his ears and around his neck. He reached up, brushed his hair back out of his face, and took deep even breaths. His shoulder was still in searing pain. He grimaced as he lifted out of his seat and walked into the main hold.

Without saying a word, initially, he began pulling the medkit off of the ship wall. Since he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, he simply reached up and began disinfecting his shoulder wound. The blaster bolt had cauterized the wound, but it was an ugly, broken red color, contrasting strongly against his skin color. He hadn’t lost blood, but the wound, combined with the exertion of combat was making him lightheaded.

While one of the mercenaries roused the other, Elias abruptly said, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

--

Fox woke with a fit, thrashed about, and fixed his eyes on the corpse, before he realised where he was. With a glare, his eyes fixed back on Bre and he launched himself at her.

--

Bre was already ready for Fox. She could imagine, if the last thing he remembered was getting run over by some kid, and then waking up on a strange ship, and finding the body of someone you know lying next to you, would not wake up in the best of moods. But the idjit should have realized that
if he wasnt tied up, oh well.

Bre simply grinned, as she moved VERY fast, moving back away from his swing, while she kicked him in his ribs. Since she knew he had a few broken ones, and with all his wild swinging, that should remind him of the fact very quickly. But even as she moved, she saw Fred rolling down towards her as
well.

Bre brought both hands up, as she frowned at the man. "STAND DOWN PE'KAK!" she yelled at him, before setting off her wrist rockets at point blank rage of his face. The brilliant blast of light would certainly blind him, (temporarily of course), and hopefully give him time to cool off, before she
really had to hurt him. She had already given him a good blow to the jaw, but if the idiot didnt stop, she would have to knock him out again. Fred crashed into Fox's legs after the flash, offering his help as well.

--

Fox went down; hard. There was an audible clang as he took the hits from Bre and the assist by Fred. Strang's voice finally kicked in, a little surprised at how Bre had taken him down so efficiently. 'Stand down, Fox!'

That brought old man Ematt around, albeit groggily. His eyes fixed upon Elias, working away at his wounds, and a rolling of his jaw. 'You made a mess of my mission, son.'

--

Bre stepped back, knocking the knife away from the man, as she did. She didnt take her eyes off of him, but watched him warily. She heard the other man tell Fox to stand down. He must be the leader then. She then heard the man saying something on how Elias had made a mess of his mission. Mission? Obviously, it was one, that Praxton was not aware of. Bre spoke to the man, not turning her head.

"I dont think he was the one to mess up your mission. Them troopers where there a little too quick, no talk about all those ships we just had to dance through, in order to make jump." Bre stated matter of fact. "Besides, what was that little show supposed to do?" she asked as she walked back towards the front of the ship, Fred following closely behind her, keeping an eye on Fox, just in case he tried something again. Bre then called out to the other ship. "Everything is fine Praxton. Just had to wake up someone who was a little, jumpy." Bre sat down, waiting for a response.

--

“No, everything certainly isn’t fine!” Praxon breathed with exasperation as he became increasingly more desperate to put this situation behind him, especially now that it appeared as if Wyn was willfully working against him.

In addition, the seemingly nonchalant attitude of the others did very little to instill confidence. While he was quite willing to accept that kind of behavior as a coping mechanism, it still came across as being quite callous. He almost wished they would have torn each other apart in the apparent scuffle that had been filtering in over the comm system. Perhaps another time…


“What you did – you and your men,” he paused, gesturing ardently to himself as he gathered his thoughts. “That’s considered assault…do you understand? I don’t care who you’re working for! Now, I could press charges, but that’ll draw way more attention than I’m willing to put out there about this little incident. As I see it, I’m now out danger and I just want to walk away.”

--

Wyn pulled a face. 'Well, when we arrive at Yavin I'll take my leave of you then, Praxon.'

'I know you aren't happy about this, but you should know me.' Her tone got stronger. 'It started off with me taking these missions for Resistance in secret to give you plausible deniability that you were just doing mercy missions. I guessed you wouldn't be concerned as I thought this was about helping people, not about self-aggrandisement. You can get on your high bantha and lecture us about the law, and pressing charges but the capital was just destroyed. I may been unable to have fought in the Yuuzhan Vong War because I had responsibilities to my family, but I knew that I would have done my part if I could.'

Wyn didn't give Praxon time to reply, and nobody else either. 'Bre is right - we were setup, but not by the Resistance, by the First Order and probably Sal-Solo too. But if you want to think about your personal freedom then you go do that.'

Wyn left the cockpit and abandoned the conversation. 'Say what you want to these people who risked their lives to help you. I'll be in my bunk until we get to Yavin.'

--

Elias slowly bandaged his shoulder, watching the commotion with little more than mild interest. When he saw the flash of a knife, he started moving towards the fight, but the girl just as quickly disarmed and took her assailant down. He finished wrapping his shoulder and took a seat on a free bench. He frowned at the old, not homeless, not blind man’s admonishment and ignored the girl coming to his defence.

“You started a frenzy on a heavily populated landing dock. I regret causing the death of one of your men, but I merely reacted to save Praxon, however misguided my actions turned out to be.”

Elias reached a hand out to the man. “I think some introductions might make this business run a little smoother. Elias Noble.”

--

'Wyn, wait..."

Praxon started to rise in order to give chase, but in his haste, his knees caught the bottom edge of the console and he cursed. It was just as well. He should've known better than to attempt to reason with her after such a benevolent display. How could he even justify himself after that? Anything he could have offered to counter her accusations would have made him look even more like a narcissistic fool. He didn't like to be painted with such a broad brush, but in this case, maybe he deserved it. It wouldn't be the first time a simple misunderstanding had clouded his judgement. He feared that the true reason for his anxiety over her secret appointment with the Resistance came down to the simple fact that she was just a better person than he was. And that stung...a lot.

With his face twisting into a grimace, he slowly lowered himself back into the pilot's chair and gingerly rubbed at his offending knee. When the pain had subsided to tolerable levels, his eyes were drawn to the comm, which crackled occasionally with the distant voices of the others on the second ship. He suddenly felt self-conscious at the idea of them potentially having overheard Wyn's tirade, particularly the young woman, who had yet to respond to his allegations of assault.

Then again, maybe she didn't care. And really, who could blame her? To her, he was probably nothing more than a self-righteous holofilm star more obsessed with his own fame and fortune than anything else. That's apparently how Wyn sees it...

"Godsdammit," he cursed again and reached forward to silence the comm, but before he could commit, he hesitated.

--

Bre winced. Poor Praxon was getting the rough end of the stick over on his ship. Bre could hear the various voices. And the other feedback she was getting was swirling about pretty thick as well. This was getting very confusing. So, if Bre had it right, the person with Praxon was called Wyn, and she was a part of the resistance. Furthermore, Praxon seemed to be a bit of a fleka, not at all like the smuggler that he was often compared to. But what the hey, he WAS an actor. And he obviously didnt know what was
going on either. So there really was no surprise at his response. Except the silly bit about trying to make charges. He obviously didnt see what was going on yet. The other people were more or less other resistance folks as well, but obviously one group did not know what was going on.

Bre didnt turn her head, when Elias started to speak, so she had no idea which person he was addressing. Not that it really mattered. She just made sure Fox didnt try anything else towards her. as she leaned back, checking on Fred who stayed close by her side.

“You started a frenzy on a heavily populated landing dock. I regret causing the death of one of your men, but I merely reacted to save Praxon, however misguided my actions turned out to be.” Elias continued, “I think some introductions might make this business run a little smoother. Elias Noble.”

Bre simply have a nod of her head. She looked towards the group. "Im Bre." Bre then turned towards the comlink panel. ["And believe it or not Praxton, Im kinda like you. Had no clue what was going on. Just saw stuff happening, and stepped up." Bre made a face. "But you better get a a new script. Because I dont think those First Order folks are going to be big on believing you, especially if they think you were in on it to begin with. You want to try to press charges? We will probably be reading about your arrest or your obit within a few hours, if you're lucky."] Bre gave a sigh, and then turned and looked at the old man. "You never did say WHY you guys were staging this? Or do I need to turn on the holovoid news, and find out whats going on?"

Bre sighed softly, as she looked over towards Elias. She really did need to get herself together before she talked with him.

--

Praxon sighed and lowered his hand back to his side, resigning himself to his fate with this misfit group. While Wyn had certainly done her part in planting the seeds of change, the young woman – Bre – had come forward to offer some much needed clarity. What had he been thinking to assume that the First Order would simply turn a blind eye to this blunder and that he could just carry on as if nothing had ever happened? Bre had been correct in that he wouldn't be long for this galaxy if they apprehended him. The First Order was a cruel bunch and they would not be interested in hearing his plea, no matter how convincing the story. It was a scenario he did not want to dwell on, that was for sure.

Noticing that the conversation had once again turned the spotlight on the Resistance players, he felt some of the tension dissipate and he was able to relax. Perhaps it was time to rejoin the conversation.

"I'd rather not see that play out again in all its glory," he muttered with regret as he envisioned the scene replaying over and over again on all of the media outlets. It made him feel even more like a fool for the way he had behaved throughout the whole ordeal. "I know I haven't been the most cooperative, but if you could enlighten us, I'm sure it will help bring some closure. I'll be satisfied with that for the time being."

Clearing his throat, he idly traced his finger over a scratch on the dash as he pondered his next words. "And Bre?" A long pause followed. "Thank you."

--

Major Ematt spoke up, coming to. 'The Resistance needs Han Solo for a mission. As he is not available, it was reasoned that we could make use of a double to impersonate him for a mission. A message was sent to Wyn, but clearly not received. The team was to pick him up peaceably, and then rendezvous in the Yavin system with General Organa, who would take on the briefing.'

He took a breath, shaken. 'Instead I have one member of the team standing, and an obvious conflict, borne from misunderstanding.'

'My name is Major Ematt, and I fought in the Rebellion, and I was the old blind man that was knocked out cold early in the fight... I presume the First Order interfered.'

Ematt stood with the assistance of Strang. 'I won't hold it against either of you as you were in essence doing the right thing - defending someone from an abduction.' Ematt grimaced. 'We need more people like you, like each of you, to help us in the fight against the First Order.'

'Jedi, actor, anyone, we need you all.' Ematt drew himself up, pale still but not quite as white as his beard. 'The destruction of Hosnian Prime and the death of millions must be responded to, and together we can bring an end to this war before it really begins.'

That was a recruitment speech, if Strang had ever heard one. Praxon seemed suitably chastised by Bre, but a Jedi, that was the clincher. His team wasn't going to be in a fit state to assist on the Snoke mission, and these three together seemed fairly capable enough to fill the gap. He could only hope the three of them would come together.
--

Too bad Praxon could not see the small smile that Bre was giving him. Getting caught up in the middle of something you had no clue in, was never much fun. It was an idea that had gone horribly wrong. Bre sighed, shaking her head as the old man, Major Ematt, stood up and began his speech, as if he was running for office. Bre bit her tongue, saying silent. She had been gone from the affairs of the galaxy for what felt like forever. She shook her head when Fred whistled at Ematt's mentioned of the First Order. Bre made a gesture, and Fred quieted down once more. Bre made a face. When he spoke of the destruction of Hossnian Prime, her face grew thoughtful. She was wondering about Han Solo, and what plan was so desperate enough to make them try and grab Praxton. A stand in for Han Solo. Bre looked over at Elias once more. They were on his ship. It was his call. But once they got to Yavin, she would need to come to a decision.

Bre leaned back in her seat, as she turned to look at Major Ematt. Yavin? General Organa? Oh, Vardin's riff, this mess was heavy Resistance stuff. She didnt know what to think. It had been so very long, since she felt like she had done anything worthwhile. Oh sure, she passed along info when she could, but whatever this guy was hinting at, sounded important. Bre rubbed her eyes. "It is a bit much to take in, Major, you understand." Bre answered gently. "Do you mind, giving us the time till we get to Yavin before we answer that?" she asked. She shrugged her shoulders. "It's not like I exactally have a love affair of the First Order either. And I've tried to help before. But from all the risk your group just did, this sounds like a pretty high risk thing your asking. But I'm also pretty sure the Order is going to be gunning for us to, because of this 'little play' of yours, so you've already put us as risk." So, an hour or so, shouldnt be too much to ask."


Bree leaned back, waiting for a response. She was pretty sure she had already made up her mind, but she wasnt going to simply jump right in. Besides, there was something else she wanted to do first...

--

This was far from an ideal situation.

Leaning slowly back against the seat, Praxon stared distantly out at the blue tunnel of hyperspace as he scratched idly at his jaw. He needed time to digest everything the Major had revealed, and while his silence could be interpreted as compliance with Bre's suggestion, he was still uncertain whether that would even be enough. An hour was such a short amount of time to decide one's fate, particularly in this stage of his life.

And yet, was it really any different than what he was doing now? They were asking him to impersonate someone, not become a soldier...at least, that was his understanding of things. He had been doing that professionally for decades with the accolades to prove it. It should have been a cinch, except...this wasn't the same as walking out onto a stage and performing for a handful of crewmen with a director present to offer guidance. This would be unfolding in real time in front of real people. One blunder could cost him his life. It would be the ultimate test of his talents and that was where his apprehension stemmed from.

"Dammit," was all he could muster as he shifted uneasily. At the risk of alienating Wyn further, he simply couldn't bail on this. They were going to Yavin to decide, whether he liked it or not.

---
Aboard the Naritus, Yavin orbit

Lysa Dunter could only watch the holoprojector in the hanger as Rhoen deftly swerved around the TIE, a dovetail of move and countermove with the lives of the Resistance at stake. The techs were strictly speaking supposed to be lifting the X-wings up to attach to a rack above the hangar, but they were all as transfixed as Lysa and the rest of Corona Squadron, and indeed the entire crew of the Naritus.

A lot was riding on this.

Corona Lead was a good pilot, he really was, but Lysa could already tell that the TIE was better. Not by an infinite amount, but it was noticeable. Lysa pursed her lips in determination, squeezed her fist.

Rhoen would simply have to get better.

And then, it was over, and the TIE was a small star for the briefest of moments. Rhoen got him. Lysa grinned, and another pilot whooped as others cheered and applauded. Another win for the Resistance and a much needed break for Rhoen, she hoped.

As the brevet Captain settled down his fighter the crew cheered him, but not for long; the sooner they got Corona Squadron into the racks above the hangar the better - a special forces squad was due back from the Core, and General Organa had been clear that only a few fighters could afford to be on the hangar ground in the short term; the hangar was about to get busy.

Not that it wasn't already, what with a rather memorable looking YT-1300 Corellian freighter already occupying a chunk of the hangar floor. Whispers about the Millennium Falcon abounded, though it had not been positively confirmed and Han Solo was missing from it - even though much of the Resistance knew about his demise, the destruction of Hosnian Prime had eclipsed that information by several magnitudes and as such most of the larger Galaxy didn't.

Lysa's fighter was still on the hangar floor - a consequence of her having landed first so she could speak to Lead when he was out of his fighter - which meant her fighter would likely stay down on the floor now - but now Rhoen was about to speak to her she felt s flutter of what could only be butterflies. Damn, she thought. Not now, sister.

On landing, crewmembers sought to congratulate Rhoen but he made a beeline for her and the trepidation redoubled. Had she been in her fighter she would have been bouncing her knee in nervousness. Double damnnit. He even ran his hand through his hair, and though sweat drenched, Lysa thought it looked good.

'Certainly, Lead. Um,' she cast her glance around and saw a room off the edge of the hangar. 'This way, sir.'

When she wandered in she realised it was an officers changing room, complete with sanisteam in the corner, and she blushed slightly before she composed herself and turned back. 'How can I help, Lead?'

Keep your cool, sister.

---

Ematt didn't have a response from the Jedi Elias by the time they arrived at Yavin, and attention had to be paid to the flight. It was a moment and then they were in the system, a single Mon Calamari MC90 series star cruiser flanked by a pair of frigates; a task force.

Strang, real name Farel Strang, thus the codename, settled Ematt in a chair in the cockpit, as a voice crackled across the channel. A female voice. 'This is the Naritus. This seems like you, Ematt, with a lot of people I don't recognise, and not quite the two ships I expected to see you in.'

Wyn, eyes slightly red with what may have been crying, but it was definitely the angry kind, not the saddened one, left her room to sit down beside Praxon, flipping switches. She wouldn't speak to him. 'This is Wyn; the second ship is one we commandeered, for now.'

'Alright,' said the woman. 'Come to the main hangar, it's time to talk.'

By the time they arrived, the hangar was cleared of techs, pilots and officers. A pair of X-wings were towards the rear of the hangar, flanking a YT-1300 to the very back; the Millennium Falcon. The other dozen or so were attached to the racks above, gangways allowing pilots to access fighters. A single small, figure stood in the centre of the hangar, an orange and white spherical droid beside her.

It was General Leia Organa Solo and BB-8.

They were waiting for them all, all five of them - Elias, Bre, Ematt, Strang, Wyn and Praxon.

Just her and the droid.

Well, if Rhoen and Lysa came out of the changing room, of course, they would be joining the meeting as well. Depending on how that little aside went.

Ematt pulled a face, looking through the cockpit. 'She does not look happy. It is getting harder.'

Strang spoke up, conscious that he had two unconscious men to deal with, on either ship, and a body. 'What is?'

'The weight of the Galaxy.'

TAG: HanSolo29, Ktala, NickLitYouAFlame, galactic-vagabond422
---
Chapter Seven

Days ago

'All rise!'

Queen Mother Tenel Ka privately grimaced as she had to be announced to a secret meeting of her military advisors. The Prince, Isolder, her father, was here, as well as many of the more militant heads of the families, Ducha's AlGray and Galney first among them. To make matters all the more serious, Ta'a Chume, the scheming former Queen of the Hapan Consortium, was present. She of course did not rise, and nor did Isolder, being as he was already standing. A warm smile touched upon his lips, and Tenel Ka returned it just before she turned to take her throne.

'You may sit,' she intoned, a slight nod of approval from her grandmother. Tenel Ka resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead maintaining a rigid stoicism. Once everyone was settled, Tenel Ka turned her head to her father. 'We would hear upon the Royal Navy with an update.'

Isolder bowed, having not sat, either. 'The warships of the First Order remain in the positions they have since the destruction of Starkiller base. A single Destroyer upon each of the hyperlanes out of the cluster, totalling six. They are not directly present either, simply aside from the traffic into and out of the system, with patrols of TIE fighters crossing into and out of hyperspace. No direct or indeed indirect harassment is occurring - they are simply there.'

Ducha Galney spoke up. 'Is it confirmed that each of these are the new class? Resurgent-class, was it? Those three kilometre long monstrosities?'

'It appears to be a purely First Order deployment, you are correct,' responded the Prince.

Ta'a Chume spat a response. 'I do not see the need to distinguish between the Remnant and First Order any longer, what with the reports we received before this infernal HoloNet blackout about the expansion of Remnant territory. They are clearly one and the same now.'

'We would not consider it wise to give up Pellaeon and the other Imperials who honoured the Galactic Concordance so quickly. Many of them came to our aid in the Yuuzhan Vong War after all.' Tenel Ka said tightly, careful not to betray the secret knowledge she possessed.

A Ducha stood up in support of Tenel Ka's grandmother, as always. 'Only after they were attacked by the invaders, Queen Mother.'

Ducha Galney snapped a response at the fool before Tenel Ka was required to have them evicted for their disrespectful tone. 'Because they had passed to the Alliance secret knowledge of the Deep Core hyperlanes, and for the Battle of Ithor, which was barely in response to the Battle of Shramar - Pellaeon dedicated himself to the Garqi feint before he even knew of that.'

Tenel Ka raised a hand, ever pleased to be defended so heartily by Ducha Galney. 'Precisely so. The situation pervades, however, that we are isolated, in more than ways than one.'

Gray scowled, beetling her brow. 'But who we do we have the ally with? With no communications outside the Consortium, no New Republic to coordinate with, and no coup throwing down Snoke, we are bereft of options save but to stay within our borders and maintain our posture.'

The Queen Mother, watching Tenel Ka with knowing eyes, spoke softly. 'And if we have more knowledge, and more allies, do we propose to strike at the First Order?'

'For impinging upon our independence, even in the slightest, we must respond,' responded the Prince, with more force than he might have with a simple Ducha.

'To what extent? To the extent that we dispatch our men and women to Coruscant all over again? Sacrifice the life blood of our people to watch the galaxy fall apart again?' Ta'a Chume shrugged on her lounger. 'We have been involved in two wars since Palpatine fell. Why should we join a third?'

Tenel Ka could only be annoyed, aware that her grandmother had manipulated the meeting thus far, as she always did. 'We would consider the facts of the matter. Had we intervened earlier in the war against the Empire, or the Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps our tragedies in those respective conflicts would have been avoided. Isolation has not protected us in the past, and I doubt it will in the future, what with the galaxy seemingly having reached a point where all of our wars are indeed all or nothing affairs. We can only blame Palpatine for that, for his invasion of our territories, which only occurred because of our isolation. We cannot expect an enemy of the galaxy to leave us alone any longer, despite our fondest wishes.'

Ta'a Chume nodded, clearly seeing the durasteel in her voice as a sign. 'I was only pointing this out so the naysayers can understand exactly what you propose.'

What she proposed, Tenel Ka noted, heaping all the blame upon her if any campaign went awry. Manipulative, as ever. She didn't dispute he need for it, however, which was especially galling. But the point was made, as was her fathers. They could not act alone, and to do so was to invite disaster.

What Tenel Ka needed was a sign.

A light in the seeming dark.

What she needed more than anything was Jacen.

---
IC: Darth Librium
Lothal Jedi Temple

'A lightsaber?' The Holocron almost scoffed. 'What is a Jedi without his lightsaber?'

Kanan replied. 'A Jedi is not his weapon. Without a lightsaber a Jedi you remain.'

Librium leaned backwards, snorting. 'You are still here? What a bore?' He gestured all but nonchalantly, a grin to his face. 'Go away.' Impossibly, Kanan vanished, as if a simple Holocron could do that. He turned back to K'Kruhk, and snapped his fingers. With a pop of displaced air, a lightsaber appeared in his free hand. 'Aing-Ti trick. It was in another hole in the Temple under a Sith cloaking spell. I love those things.'

It was fairly well timed to the sound of ships, and definitely landers, and shuttles, screaming TIEs in the air. 'What next, Jedi Master? I do not have a ship, unless you do, unless you want one of theirs.'

A darker presence pushed at them. 'Brandl's manchild is coming... And he really believes in the First Order, since the Remnant was still subject to the Galactic Concordance in spite of the Yuuzhan Vong War...' And shrug from Librium. 'Makes you think if your generation of Jedi should have stepped up when I went off into exile, doesn't it? Stopped the New Republic Senate from pushing things like they did, in an Empire within Pellaeon to explain to them that reparations were nearly up?' Another smile, the little simulacrum locking eyes with the Whiphid. 'Sorry, I mean, my 'do-gooder self'. Though I suppose,' a thoughtful tone attached itself to Librium's voice. 'Luke Skywalker isn't doing all too good at this moment, is he?'

A layer of malice upon his tone punctuated the sound of plasteel boots echoing around the Temple.

Lots of them.

TAG: BobaMatt
---
IC: Horn
Battle of Eshan

Corran watched his bolt get caught by the pike and reflected into the wall, and he sprung after Vincent. Corran saw it all in slow-motion, as he passed Vincent and rushed for the Knight who was unoccupied and turning for Vincent - the man was dipping under the pike and placed his fist on the Knights midsection, and a boom sent the man flying, hard, and fast, away from them both. He crashed into one of the corners to the room, and his helmet rolled off. Corran knitted his brow as he did not recognise the Knight, and he would've expected to.

Then Corran was in the middle of his opponent, his lightsaber igniting and then bouncing off the pike his opponent drew up to block the blow, and the man stepped forward into his motion, kicking Corran in the stomach with a stomp-kick. The Jedi Master knew that was a fairly basic move, stepping into a block, based upon the knowledge that the pike was laced with something like phrik, and Corran should have, had he not been focused on Vincent's surprise, upon the falling Knight, he would have seen it through.

Corran was self-analysing as he tumbled back, knowing that the real reason was because of his combat fade, that he had let his exile seep into his bones and his skills had atrophied... He had let himself go, and the length of time in which he had been away from the Order was far longer than he had when Ithor was destroyed.

He had let himself go.

In that moment, his opponent wagged his hand, hard, sending his tumble towards Vincent, and the first opposition - the one who had just finished righting his pike from his blaster block - simply dashed through the gap towards the meeting room where Treen and Callista were - while the Knight who Vincent had blindsided was already trying to get back to his feet.

Corran knew that Vincent had to take point in this fight, or the consequences would be bad - but also knew that they needed to finish up here before that Knight reached Treen and Callista.

---

Senator Treen saw the shimmer of a shield phase into existence around the aide, Callista, red eyes glowing, and Treen could only guess that she was not entirely human, which was a surprise, as Treen had not seen one quite so realistic in many, many years. 'Oh,' was all she could say.

Their assailant saw it, too, as he stepped around the doorway. And Treen was sure she saw him grit his teeth before the table flipped up at him. The table pivoted up, and, impossibly, smashed the man against the wall and through it. He should have been crushed flat, a past of blood and bone, but in his moment of attention upon Callista he had drawn the Force around him as a shield so as to survive. It didn't stop him crashing against the wall of the next corridor and grimacing, blood dribbling out of his mouth. He had bit his tongue, but there were all manner of other secondary wounds and so forth to content with; a broken rib, maybe two, a dislocated arm, definite bruising to be expected in his back if not some spinal damage, and of course the ringing his head. With a hiss, the man, flicked a wrist and dropped his second lightsaber down into his hand.

This was when the third Knight, advancing at speed, rushed through the door and full pelt towards Callista, his Force pike - phrik at that - looking to drive through her at speed, the Force behind the thrust and reinforcing the weapon.

Debating, the first assailant, cloaked and battered, merged into a wall and made for his starfighter. He had done his bit, and the Dark Lord would appreciate the extra damage he had taken on their behalf, completing this errand. Almost everything the Resistance, New Republic and Jedi Order needed was in this very system, and this very battle.

It was simply a shame that it had to be done at all.

But they were not ready, and the First Order was...

And so were they.

Who the assailant represented simply weren't ready.

Yet.

TAG: Kahn_Iceay

---
Kyle Katarn
Moldy Crow

Kyle felt Kodo through the Force, and it was as if Kyle was a gloved hand upon the younger mans and vice-versa, and Kyle's eyes matched Kodo's. The meld gave them the skill to double tap a TIE, whose shields gave out and then exploded in an instant.

Absently, splitting his focus once more, and also wordless transferring what other controls he had to Jan apart from weapons - who also wordlessly accepted them and didn't enquire aloud as to what else Kyle was doing apart from shooting so as to not sell the ruse and suggest Kyle was doing anything but piloting - Kyle became to calmly and subtly sieve through the young mans mind.There was a lot of trauma in Kodo's mind, and a psychic buffer between whatever had happened and the man, and Kyle knew he could not touch upon that without alerting the Jedi.

Because Kodo was still a Jedi, just a fairly desperate one who had been alone for far too long. Kyle could save him, and he would. In those moments, both of them, via the meld, nailed another three fighters as Jaden, Valin and Rosh slashed across the bridge of the Destroyer, drawing fire and peppering if with blaster fire if only to distract the officers behind the transparisteel. But Kodo and Kyle had successfully fended off several TIEs and without their combined efforts would not have gotten the group through.

Positivity swept through the meld, as they knew they were about to break free. And then, they were, all four ships jumping into hyperspace, and the meld relaxed away, exultation among them. Aloud, Kyle spoke up. 'Well done everyone, excellent coordination all round.'

Unclipping, Kyle came to Kodo, a smile to his face. 'Good work, Kodo. Let's get the rest of those wounds sorted. We had to be a bit slapdash in the heat of the moment after all.'

Kyle supported Kodo as they made their way to the medical bay, which was in essence a dedicated bunk. 'How are you doing? Anything we need to talk about? I appreciate you've been down on Dagobah for a while, in all likelihood.'

There is absolutely nothing we need to talk about, little Kodo. Nothing whatsoever.

'Have you heard about what happened at Hosnian Prime? The capital?'

Play your little games with him, my Kodo, but do not tell him about me. There was a tonal shift. Get him to tell you where we are going. I must know.

The voice sounded fainter than normal, and weaker. It was almost as if the meld had already done some good. This was how Saba Sebatyne had helped the Jedi from the Myrkr mission recover, with the joint presence of so many Jedi, reinforcing the weak and giving into positivity, shuffling way negative feelings and emphasising the individual strengths of the group. Kyle was more aware of the combat elements of the meld, but Saba had shown him how to be more subtle with the meld and use it as a more spiritually useful tool.

As such the compulsion behind the Holocron's command was dipping already; assuming Kodo wasn't too far gone.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard
---
IC: Boba Fett
Yaga Minor

'The kid has skills. Demolitions man, clearly.' Fett was sat in the co-pilot seat, but he had no intention of co-piloting. His best friend and beloved ship - his home - were in the hands of another, and Fett wanted to leave the focus of flying to Atropos. Especially as Fett had a particular flying style; if he was picked up to be flying the Vornskyr, then this wouldn't go well.

The 'Sarreti' overlay added a touch that it might not be Fett onboard the Slave I, and the Mand'alor appreciated that little touch. Very smart. Both of them were very smart, playing on a higher level with Fett. Goran was intelligent, but he didn't have the wheels within wheels logic and was fairly straightforward, for some novelty. Unfortunately, the captains of the Peerless and Defiant may very well have switched their orders from kill to disable, and ordered officers to prepare tractor beams, but Flennic had been a Moff, and hero of the Empire at that. Even Sarreti's voice was only so much in the cacophony of voices competing for authority.

The Slave I drifted across the Megador's hull and began its run, a squadron of fighters on its tail, but one, the leader. was a TIE Defender, and while the others had to be circumspect in their fire to disable, the Defender could lay down a wave of ion cannon fire without issue. The Super Star Destroyer was almost free of its mooring as the first charge went off, crumbling a whole chunk of the hull along the front of the nose of the twelve kilometre long monolith. From that point the commander opened fire on the moorings, the yard, everything around it in the vicinity of Slave I, simply looking to flood the front of the ship with flaming hot debris.

Goran simply opened fire with every weapon he had to hand, looking to blow through obstructions that Susular could not avoid. Oh, and he screamed, cursing Manda, missing Medrit, resisting the urge to squeeze shut his eyes. And then, to make matters worse, the Megador got her shields up in time for the engine charges to go off; the shields absorbed the damage without flinching. The mines cut through everything else as if it was paper, killing hundreds of Imperials and civilian workers alike. The firestorm surrounding the ship was contained within the shields and also trapped without, but the hull was up to it, and all that the other commanders could do was watch as their squadron was incinerated, save the shielded TIE Defender, which had survived, burnt, but alive - a fair description of the state of the Slave I as they veered towards the corvette and then past the horrendous field of damage as it blew through the corvettes shields. The Defender pilot was really really good, unpiling ion bolts as quick as the cannon could pull it off.

Fett knew that enough was enough. 'They're not going to make it without shields.'

As he said that, an ion bolt hit the Slave I, but the hardened electronics took it, for the most part, though Goran could only gasp as electricity wove across the console and weapons went dead - but engines were still working, and life support, so surely it was fine, he thought, or, rather, prayed, and, again swore and cursed. The corvette may have been blocking the fire of the Megador now, but the other two Star Destroyers were marshalling their tractor beams.

'Atropos, I hope you have another overlay for you ID because a Moff isn't going to cut it.'

Fett pulled a face, damn. He reached for the console, and, without Atropos' permission, seized control with the slicer key on his belt and jammed the TIE Defenders signal. With a fiddle of the console, he performed the equivalent of a ventriloquist throwing their voice, and made relays in the area think he was transmitting from the TIE Defender.

'This is Boba Fett, Mandalore of the Houses and Clans. The Slave I has been stolen as part of a sting to frame Manda'lor for the death of Moff Flennic and General Berrida, and I am in pursuit in the TIE Defender; ignore whatever I told you a moment ago as pilot. The next person who fires at Slave I will be personally hunted by me.'

'Moff Sarreti, you will go to the top of my list if you do not put some of the Imperial
blue blood on the line, and next will be every member of the Moff Council until I run out of Moffs and then I will move onto the Admiralty.' A hesitancy ran through the fire of much of the surrounding Imperials, and it began to taper off. Even the Moffs with their competing orders went silent. In every moment the TIE Defender kept up the ion fire, and Fett had to rely upon Susular to save his ship. It was all the TIE pilot could do; participate in the charade and hope he crippled Slave I before it escaped and then he could reveal it all.

One of the captains spoke up. 'Moff Sarreti, orders?'

Fett pointedly looked at Atropos.

TAG: Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto
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IC: Crusher
En route to Yavin, about to cross the Hydian via the Braxant Run[/b]

Friends? Crusher switched his lightsaber off, looking down at offending hand with an expression of such frustration that would have been apparent even through armour. Eventually he shook the hand. After all, he had to survive this escapade to Yavin and he had taken advantage to divert them the long way to Yavin. Afterwards he needed to continue his mission, and N'Dul could take the fall for power plays. Crusher had little doubt that the man would be disliked by the crew, though fear would deal with most of them. Regardless, Crusher could use that if needed.

There was a pulse from the Droma Holocron, which caught Crusher's senses too but also didn't - it had a familiar echo but it passed, and Crusher needed to focus. It was, however, a bleet for attention from Qel-Droma.

'We shall be arriving shortly. I need to return to the bridge, and liaise with Stele.' Crusher paused. 'But you are correct, in that I moved against you, and for my own ends. Let us focus on the Resistance for now, and we can ascertain where we stand after we have ended the war.' It was easier for Crusher to get into the head of a darksider than he would like but it did make sense.

'Until next time, N'Dul. We arrive in the Yavin system in less than half an hour.'

Uncaring if the Prefect remained in his room or not - he had no valuables, as a Knight - he swept out of the room. And hopefully the Resistance will have moved on before we arrive.

TAG: Darth Dreadwar


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