Star Wars CLOSED THE GALAXY AT WAR: EPISODE V: ACT I: EMERGENCE

IC: Rogue Imperial Captain Babbit of the EF76_Nebulon B frigate Soubise
Location: Imperial weigh point - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist

The Imperial EF76 Nebulon B frigate Soubise shuddered wildly as another volley of fiery spheres brought the collapsing shields down.

A new second stepped forward just as Tanawee's body was being cleared from the command deck. Smoke swirled in the eerie silence in and amongst the somber crew. Their captain had gone rogue and the Soubise, exposed. The fear had drained away with the shields and the crew committed to their fate.

Captain Babbit, blaster in hand, forehead beading with perspiration, stared intensely out of the view port.

Everyone braced as the ship rocked with a hit to the lower forward blade. The blare of klaxons threw the crew into hyperactivity.

"Shields are down-"

"-They are targeting the spar, sir-"

"Evasive maneuvers-"

The helm began to respond to the TCO’s order to protect the long hull connecting the main body of the frigate to it’s 6 engines and the ship began to tilt into a quick tack to starboard.

Babbit spewed, "Belay that-Quarter to port and drop 30 degrees. Gut this devil! Turbos one and two on midships, three and four-under her bow-"

“Sir, another salvo-”

The streaks of green laser hit the alien ship, but appeared to be dispersed and/or absorbed, but this time the rock-like ship halted it’s advance.

For a brief moment, Babbit relished his finding and began to punch the air. “I’ve got you now you ‘son of a ban...” Only for a moment, did the bridge dare to share the Captain’s jubilation, before a white and gold glare obliterated their view. The deck heaved violently. Around the bridge, sparks flew from control boards and rolling thick smoke rose to the ceiling.

The unthinkable happened, the one for which the safety shield crackled across the the melted transparisteel to contain the bridge atmosphere. Against the black of space, one by one the Soubise' TIE fighters perished in whirling balls of brief but intense white fire, the crew toiling furiously to gain control, to cry of klaxons and destruction.

TAG: Omi @Ominous

 

Rahara Varik \ Coruscant

Rahara gave the Senator a coolly appraising look. Rather defensive and all-too probing for her tastes! She answered crisply: "You know how it is with new hires. Lots of every-day sorts of detail work to get done and out of the way so the higher-ups ostensibly can do their jobs competently. Although Uncle Merle is candid enough to say that these committees do more talking and debating than doing."

She heard a gong and turned her attention to the dais.

 

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian aboard the Hidden Dagger
Location: Imperial weigh point - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist

Galen looked out the viewport as the ship banked hard to avoid the debris from the alien vessel. A bright flash caught her eye in the distance. She moved closer to the viewport and focused her eyes. The Imperial Nebulon cruiser was coming apart. Sorry bastards, she said under her breath. She could only hope now that their stupidity could buy them more time. She turned back to the comms officer, “Patch me through to the general again.”

“Aye Captain.” He punched his keyboard and nodded back to her.

“General Torian, this is Captain Galen. With all due respect to rank, get your sorry ass back on board the Storm’s Eye!” Her voice was loud and irritated. The other crew members in the control room went eyes wide. Some tried to hold back a chuckle but it was too quiet on the deck. “Can you acknowledge?” Or are you dead? The thought weighed heavy on her. What if? It would be a huge blow to the Rebel Alliance.

Aboard the Hidden Dagger…

The last of the surviving Imperials were aboard the shuttle and strapping in when the pilot took the call. Torian was the last one in as the shuttle bay door closed. “Uh General? There is a message for you from Captain Galen.” Torian was trying to rub out the pain in his shoulders and wasn’t thinking about taking it personally in the cockpit. “Put her through.” He ordered.

The pilot didn’t hesitate and flipped the communication lever on to all speakers in the shuttle. General Torian, this is Captain Galen. With all due respect to rank, get your sorry ass back on board the Storm’s Eye!

Torian’s men started to laugh out loud, reverberating through the hull. The Imperials were stunned into silence. They couldn’t believe that a lower ranking officer would speak in such a way to their superior! If they did that, they would have been court-martialed or worst shot!

Commander Buro looked at Torian expecting the General to reach through the communications array and choke this Captain Galen.

Aboard the Storm’s Eye…

Captain Galen heard the howls of laughter through the speakers which then caused her crew to start laughing as well. A little levity during a time of crisis was always welcomed she thought. She let it go.

The speakers cracked, “This is General Torian. Consider my sorry ass on its way. We had to deal with a pest problem over here and the situation turned SNAFU.”

Aboard the Renegade 1...

He looked over at Buro who was still stunned. “Her and I go way back, Commander, she’s like a second wife to me.” Torian walked over and took a seat next to Buro. “I need a drink.” He continued to rub his neck and shoulders.

Storm’s Eye…

Galen smiled and let a chuckle out. She overheard the wife comment on the hot mike. She turned to navigation. “Bring her around, prepare to take in Renegade 1.”

“Aye Captain!”

“First drink is on me General.”

TAG: Pash

 

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian aboard the Hidden Dagger
Location: Imperial weigh point - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist

Captain Galen and a few of the other officers were standing on deck in the hangar awaiting the approach of the shuttle from the Hidden Dagger. They were armed but posing no threat to their visitors. The shuttle settled down with a low whine and long sigh. Steam released from her bowels as the bay doors opened. Torian’s men were the first to depart the shuttle, carrying weapons and other equipment. They looked like hell but remained in good spirits, talking trash to one another about the latest mission. Next the Imperials from the Hidden Dagger emerged, nervously looking around expecting a cadre of Rebels armed and ready to blow them away if they wished. Instead, Captain Galen looked at the remains of the Imperials, obviously beaten down from whatever attacked them aboard the Hidden Dagger.

Galen stepped forward, her officers right behind her. “Who’s in charge? She asked looking around. Commander Buro stepped out from behind the stormtroopers, “I am. Commander Buro. You must be Captain Galen.” He stood straight and gave her a crisp salute. “Thank you for saving us back there. We are in your debt.”

He handed over his blaster to Galen as a sign of surrender and trust. She looked down at his blaster, “That won’t be necessary Commander. Your troopers must be tired.” She looked around at the lot. Once gleaming white, polished armor was now covered in grime, blood and sweat. “If any of your men need medical attention, our medical officer here will show you the way.”

Torian was the last out of the shuttle. Captain Galen glanced up and smiled. “General. Great to see you again.We are ready to leave. Where shall we go?”

Torian rubbed his shoulder, it was sore from the CQB with the aliens. “Anywhere but here. How about a vacation spot in the Outer Rim?”

She chuckled. “You’re the boss. Whatever you want?”

She glanced over at the body bags and noticed the alien gear and head being stored for travel. “Ugly bastard!” She said.

“Yes they are,” he said tiredly. “We need to show these to someone more important than us.”

Her brow furrowed, “What are you suggesting General?”

TAG: To be continued

 

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian
Location: Imperial weigh point - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist

The Storm's Eye and her accompanying ships disappeared from the battle space in a flash. The blue, white blur of hyperspace travel filled the viewport of the capital ship. Galen returned to the command deck to oversee the navigation. Torian headed for his quarters...he needed a drink. It wasn't spacious but it was enough for the big man. He pulled his gear off and through it on the chair that was in the corner of his room. He walked over to the cabinet rolling his shoulders around and cracking his neck. He was stiff from the battle and a nice Corellian whiskey was the cure. He pulled his shirt off and fell back into the bed sipping the whiskey. The burn was a welcome feeling after battling this new threat. He played back the battle in his head. What the hell were those things? And where did they come from? These were questions above his pay grade. Yes he was a general, a supreme commander for the Alliance but someone smarter than him had an answer. All the records were on Coruscant and that's where they were heading. Not his first choice of course but a necessity. Taking a second drink from his cabinet, there was a knock on his door.

Torian turned and said, "It's open. Come on in."

Commander Buro, still in Imperial uniform, stepped inside. "Sorry to bother you sir." He looked at Torian's bare back, countless scars from battle.The man has been through a lot. He thought. "I just want to say thank you again for rescuing us." Torian turned around, "Want a drink?" He offered the Imperial his own glass. Buro looked at with a quizzical look. Drinking on duty? The Imperials shoot their people for less! Torian could tell he was thinking it over. "Go on Commander! I won't tell your superior." He chuckled. Buro took the glass from the Rebel. "Here's to valor. May no war require it, but may it ever be ready for every foe." He clinked his glass to Buro's and took a big swig downing it in one chug. Buro followed his lead, coughing from the strong alcohol content. Torian poured another, "Good stuff huh?" He poured another for Buro who tried to stop him.

"Relax Commander. You're the first Imperial I haven't wanted to kill in a long time." He smiled at the Imperial which didn't make the man anymore comfortable. Torian laid back on the bed. "Ever see anything like that before?"

Buro took another sip, and motioned to the chair, asking permission to sit. Torian nodded. "No sir. I was going to ask you the same thing."

Buro took a seat, more relaxed than he should be at the moment. Was it the whiskey or was it the fact he didn't feel threatened by the Alliance any longer? His men were being taken care of and they were alive because of the Alliance. Torian took another sip. "Someone has to know what that was. We'll find out soon."

Buro followed suit with a sip. "Where are we going?"

"Coruscant." Torian responded. Buro almost gagged on his drink. "Something wrong Commander?" Torian asked.

"Sir with all due respect, they will hang us for coming back with you and you are not our prisoner." The thought shuddered his body.

Torian responded, "Who says you have to come back an Imperial? As he glanced at his Imperial insignia on his uniform.

Buro looked down, and without hesitating, tore the Imperial patch off his uniform. "You're right!" He took another chug of his whiskey, seeming to enjoy it this time. "I'll talk to the men. They have already rumbled about not returning to Imperial service. It seems they feel betrayed by the Empire."

TAG: Pash

 

OCC: Thank you all for your patience and to C-O for feedback.

IC: Captain Braun of the Star Galleon, Fortunata, Commanding Captain Malcovich, Lt. (Mr.) Ailes of the Imperial convoy command ship, Nebulon B frigate Zandra, and Captain Wilform of the Hidden Dagger

LOCATION: Imperial waypoint - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist


Wilform watched anxiously from his bridge. The Hidden Dagger’s engines barely back online, there was no rejoicing and somber and resolute the bridge crew, or what remained of them, worked to give the helm the means to pilot the massive ISD.

The view was skewed by the failing ISD’s list to one side. the strange rock ship with it’s moss like tentacles seemed to hang in space, akilter in a mocking tilt. It was nearly unscathed by the two Imperial Frigates’ weapons arrays that should have easily dispatched it.

Captain Wilform scowled at the ship. He was contemplating a bitter thought as he leaned on the young crewman who stood shouldering his bloodied Captain, forehead beaded with perspiration and lips pursed to brace himself against what all the crew knew would come. They watched with a small welcome victory as the rebel capital ship took out the newly arrived aliens, but with dismay as the Soubise, Captain Babbit’s Imperial Frigate, exploded in that compartmentalized way space awed all living endeavor. First, came the bright spherical burst of light and clouds of consequential vaporization that imploded and dissipated into nothingness and then a few bits of space junk and dismemberment spinning out from the nexus, continuing on to Heavens knew where until met with an equal and opposite force.

A clamorous noise drew the Captain’s attention.

“Try it now,” said a tech deep inside the guts of a half-seared console near the helm. Sparks flew and nearby boards flickered, threatening once again to go offline. The moment stretched out absurdly as if this was not the throes of the ship’s last stand, but a matter of fixing a few crossed wires in an old speeder.

“Come on, come on!” It was a fervent prayer murmured tightly around the bridge

---

Captains Braun and Malcovich also witnessed the destruction of the rogue Soubise and that of the newly arrived aliens, destroyed by the rebel ship, Storm’s Eye. Captain Braun aboard her Star Galleon had been commanded to refrain from engagement and stay behind and away from the confrontation. Stiffly, she stood, bracing as the large rock-like ship that had heretofore remained at a distance, now turned agility and with surprising speed toward Malkovich’s Nebulon B, the Zandra, away from the Hidden Dagger and the rebel transports departing for the Storm’s Eye.

Aboard the Zandra, frenzied but ordered activity erupted as Malcovich directed the crew to arm what auxiliary means were left to them, a few old SPHA-T and escape pods. He also directed the Fortunata to cover the other transports and slave them to the Galleon’s hull, report to Bond and stay with Storm’s Eye. The resources and personnel aboard were too important to lose. Braun interrupted to object but, as she made to accept her orders, the alien ship, changing course toward the rebel contingent and the arriving transports, began to fire on the Star Galleon and the rebel fleet.

The Zandra, shields nearly gone, began to hit the alien ship repeatedly and rapidly, doggedly moving in towards it, cutting it off from the rebel fleet and the Galleon. “Braun, go!”

Several of the Hidden Dagger transports in the fore of a final launch of 8 more small rescue ships heading for Fortunata were hit. However, the Zandra began to launch whatever it could to attract the volleys of fiery projectiles from the rebels, the Galleon, and the remaining rescue transports.

Captain Malcovich, Sir.” called Lt. Ailes, “Captain Braun is moving to retrieve the transports”!

“It’s too late. She’ll lose far more if she remains.” said Malcovich.

“That ship seems to...!” “It’s like it heals itself!”

“Look, that hull breach is closing...”

“Concentrate fire on that breach...” said Malcovich

“It’s trying to tractor us, Sir!”

Ailes again turned to Malcovich, “Sir, the rebels are preparing to jump. Receiving coordinates now-Coruscant!?”

“Fortunata has all but three of the transports, Sir!”

“Good! Ailes, tell her to leave the rest for us and go!”

“Braun, we will have to see to the rest. Go with the rebels. You have the jump-!”

A large explosion tossed the Zandra’s bridge crew to the floor and the view port was awash in a blinding light, klaxons ringing loudly. But then, a massive shadow overwhelmed the brightness.

“Damage contained-”

“-One transport tethered, sir. One has lost engines and the third has lost transmis-”

“Fortunata’s away!” “Look!” “Receiving transmission from Dagg-”

The Hidden Dagger loomed before the Zandra and cleaved a graceful path between alien fire and the faltering Nebulon B, multiple explosions opening rifts across the hull of the behemoth that was the Imperial Star Destroyer and emptying it of metal debris, some of it hitting the Zandra. With the Dagger as a shield, Malkovich picked up the last surviving rescue ships, tractoring them to the Zandra. A moment’s transmission from the ISD that only crackled and ended in silence.

The alien ship had lost its hold on the Imperial Frigate, which pulled away with a sudden jolt as the Hidden Dagger hid the alien ship from view. Malcovich ordered the Zandra to prepare for the jump, the last sight before the stars streaked past the view port- Hidden Dagger banking in a wide swing up-an elegant articulation-showing its belly to the alien ship, cores imploding and the signal wedge standing out against the initial flash that immediately engulfed all in an oddly beatific expansion of colorful clouds.

TAG: Omi

 

OOC: This is a joint post started by Omi. Thanks Omi, for the invitation and moving things along. Great writing with you!


IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra

LOCATION: Imperial way point - a set of coordinates off the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route on the way to Muunilist


Commander Buro looked down at the utilitarian decking of the rebel ship as he thought of all the people who had just parished. A sense of guilt weighed down on him for the angry thought he’d just expressed. Now, however, he had to think about the future. He felt the data disc in his chest pocket at the mention of Coruscant. The irony was that Coruscant was where he was duty-bound to bring the disc. He took a swig of his drink and wiped his face with his hand.

This wasn’t a rebel plot-No! The aliens were bent on killing them all with a ferocity that was maniacal, single-minded. The bioweapons, the strength and length it took to stop these aliens! He threw another glance at the Big Man and caught Darkeyes’ meaningful counter. Buro bit his lips and nodded in silence. The ramifications of what they’d all just experienced stuck in his chest.

Buro cleared his throat.

"Dagger's second, Senior Lieutenant Kos, says he has a disc to hand off to the Imperial Executor,” offered Buro tiredly. He leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees as he held the whiskey before him and looked up to General Darkeyes across the sparsely appointed cabin. With the General on the bunk opposite and Buro sitting on the edge of another, the two of them seemed to fill the room that was clearly not the state room appropriate to the General’s rank.

Buro continued, “We heard that the CIS were trading information with an unknown agent. At least that was the scuttle going ‘round for the last several years. We always took it as flack and reprimands for that kind of talk were pretty severe. But Kos indicates that the Dagger had some encounter with this species before arriving at the waypoint, the details of which are on the disc he gave us to turn over to the Imperial Executor. It doesn’t take much to conjecture that the Dagger was sabotaged if not directly attacked. They somehow had one of those aliens aboard near Muunilist. Due to combat situations, they were unable to sweep the ship before entering battle. We’ve no idea what she was doing at our waypoint? And those alien ships-they weren’t there by coincidence and neither was the Dagger. Those aliens were scouting-possibly more!" Buro added, giving voice to what he knew, Darkeyes must have already surmised himself and feeling a little less relieved given what remained unspoken in his mind. “Somehow, those aliens were aboard the Dagger, before the last battle!”

He looked at the ‘Big Man’ pointedly. The rebel general was easily twice as thick and at least a full head over Buro. His hand could encompass Buro's neck and Buro, himself, was neither short nor small. The General commanded loyalty and authority by his presence alone! This was the first moment Buro had to observe Gen. Darkeyes, fully. Even this giant of a man had put up a hard fight to best these aliens!

Buro took another measured sip of the spirit in his glass and enjoyed the heat and smokey taste, feeling a little of the tension leave his shoulders. "So...how are you proposing to access Coruscant, General? Everyone's on high alert, last I heard." He didn't volunteer why, just yet.

Torian took another sip of his whiskey. The pain in his shoulder began to subside with the alcohol. He looked up at Buro and with a straight face said, "I have my ways." He wasn't about to give the details. "But with your help, we can make this a whole lot easier." He took another sip. The tide of the war had changed drastically in just a few hours. No longer were the Imperials the threat. There was a new threat, more dangerous than anyone could have anticipated. "You may want to hang on to that insignia just yet.

Buro touched his hand to his rank tiles and raised a brow. "Well, things haven't changed that much from when you were a Republic soldier, General, Sir-call signs and such! You know the protocol. Still, it would be good to have my Commanding officer. We don't know yet if the Zandra made the jump, or do we?" asked Buro, puzzling just how they were going to survive, Sector Zero Command, much less make it through to the Executor...now Emperor. Surviving that would be a travail, Buro consciously decided not to linger over.

He looked to the General and nodded. Then quietly queried of him, "...and the Star Galleon, the Fortunata? Is she with us?

Torian set his drink down and flipped a switch next to the bunk. "Captain Galen?"

There was a static noise at first, "Yes General. How can I help you? Need more whiskey?" She snickered.

Torian looked over at Buro and muted the comm. "Like I said, second wife."

Buro sniffed and gave a smile.

"Maybe later Captain. When we jumped to hyperspace, were there any followers? Specifically Imperial?"

"Yes General. A Nebulon B frigate and a Star Galleon. The galleon has five rescue ships slaved to it, the frigate, maybe three more small craft to it. We communicated our jump coordinates to them before we left. While you were en route back from the Hidden Dagger, we were in constant contact with the Imperials." There was a pause. "However, we can't communicate at the moment in hyperspace. It's impossible."

Torian responded, "Understood Captain. It might be a good idea to decant somewhere safe where we can take a full account of our losses and gains."

"Already taken care of General. We will be decanting from hyperspace in 10 minutes."


TAG: to be continued...

 

~OOC~ Wonderful posting so far, @Ominous and @pashatemur.
I would like to thank @Adalia-Durron and @pashatemur for providing Kirstine and Sabé respectively for this post.

~IC~ Director Orsen Krennic, Colonel Wullf Yularen, Lux Bonteri - Senator of Onderon + Kirstine - Queen of Bakura + Sabé Delba - Queen Amidala II of Naboo
Location: Coruscant - Galactic Senate Building - Grand Senate Atrium

Kirstine eyed the man as he sat down. His arrogance and absolute lack of decorum or manners set her nerves on edge. The man was an oaf, an uncouth and classless oaf. "The Senator, as you so aptly put it, is a gentleman and a man of class. Unlike others...." She narrowed her eyes, "I've met recently."

“Well, I am pleased to hear that you are having such a wonderful evening, your majesty.” Krennic smiled, unfazed by the look Kirstine gave him. “I have heard Bakura is a gem of a world.”

"It is." She answered simply not wanting to engage this man further.

“I’ve also heard your repulsorlift manufacturing processes are considered to be top tiered as well.” Krennic shifted in his seat to lean closer.

"They are." She levelled her cold gaze.

“Director, what are you insinuating?” Lux asked.

“Come now, Senator.” Krennic looked at him with a mock hurt expression. “Me? Insinuate? I was merely offering my compliments to the ingenuity of her majesty’s people. I was not putting down the importance of your homeworld of Onderon.”

"I'd prefer you didn't speak of my homeworld at all thank you ...Sir." Kirstine did not like the subtle move the man had made in her direction. "I will also thank you to show some respect to my status and move back." Her tone was cold as ice.

“Alright.” Krennic raised both palms up. “Alright, I meant no offence, your Majesty. I’m not here to ruffle-“

“Still talking business, Director?” An elderly gentleman in a white uniform interrupted. A lady, of sorts, attached to his arm.

Krennic gave a wide smile. “Never waste an opportunity, Colonel.”

“No, but there is a time and place for such things.” The Colonel gently admonished before directing his gaze to Kirstine. “Forgive the intrusion, your Majesty.” His gaze shifted to Lux, “Senator. Colonel Yularen, this beside me is Queen Sabé Amidala II of the Naboo...” his gaze shifted beyond the table towards the dais.

Lux noticed a twitch of the Colonel’s moustache and he looked over to where his gaze fell. He couldn’t make out what the Colonel might be concerned for though something else caught his eye, Ahsoka. She was walking, arms folded behind her back, along side an Ursean Officer as they head towards the dais where the Ceremony is meant to take place.

Amidala II lowered her eyes, seeming uninterested in the conversation or the people, but she'd spent quite a bit of time in the older man's presence this evening that he had quickly learned much about her. At the moment she was ...coiled, attentive behind her hooded observation.

"Director ...Krennic, is it?" She asked, softly, her voice warm and yet, icily patrician. She offer her hand to the seated man, keeping it just out of his reach so that to take it, he would have to stand, ignoring the obvious preparation going on at the dais.

She slowly lifted her eyes to Krennic's and even more slowly, smiled enigmatically. "Your name's gotten about in some interesting circles these days."

The jewels in her hair and at her neck scintillated as she waited expectantly for the Director to pay court to her.

Krennic rose to his feet as he took Sabé’s hand. And gave it a kiss. “Your Majesty. Charmed to make your acquaintance.” There was something striking when comparing the Queen of Bakura with the elected Queen of Naboo. While the Bakuran was cold toward him, there was a scolding heat with her passion. While the coolness from the Nabooian was more calculating... deathly. Reminded him similarly to some of his peers, the ones who’d backstabbed to climb the next position up. Krennic mustered what he called his trademark debonair smile as he continued. “I believe we both have our fair share of circles, given your brief promotion at the Senate the other day.”

"Ummm..." she breathed and blinked slowly as her smile expanded, holding her hand in position so he could not drop his own without impunity. Thus, they stood, she looking on as Krennic was compelled to hold her hand aloft where they stood. "Director! You shimmer as if showered with stardust! Perhaps, you'll honor us with your company...later, and we can do something about those...little circles." She flashed another smile and removed her hand from his. With that Sabe let the Colonel know that she was done with her business here, her face once again distant and cold.

“We best find our seats, we don’t want to impose.” Yularen stated.

As the Colonel steered the Nabooian Queen away from the table, Krennic gave Yularen a concerned look. Yularen raised a brow as to say ‘I don’t know what you mean’ before departing.

“Something the matter, Director?” Lux asked.

A brief look of annoyance flashed before a smile settled in. Krennic shook his head. “No, nothing at all.”

TAG @pashatemur, @Adalia-Durron

 

IC: Anakin Skywalker, Lord Vader, Re Mavrat Ursa and Emperor of the Galactic Empire of Free Systems and Marie-Celeste Isabeau, Reina and Matriarch Mavras Ursa and Empress of the Galactic Empire of Free Systems and Speaker Mas Amedda


The Empress turned her face to the wall and brushed wisps of her hair from her brow. Just now, the crowd had devolved into a mass of individuals, clamoring to be heard and “hold forth.” Her breath came in gasps and her heart raced as she struggled to compose herself and laying the coolness of the back of her hand against her brow, she slowed her breath. Yet, it did not prevent the too real thought that vented as a whisper, “There are too many of them-Oh! Get a hold of yourself!.”

Hands on her shoulders lighted gently and the dark-haired Ursen gasped aloud, covering her mouth to stop her surprise. She shook as the young Emperor turned her around and his smile turned from amusement to concern. "Celeste?”

”Ah, Anakin, so many agendas, intrigues and expectations. It’s -I’m sorry, it’s all so overwhelming!” she said, waving her hand to fan her face.

He blinked at her, brow furrowing as he took her hands in his, caressing them, and smiling softly as he leaned his head to follow her wayward gaze. "This isn't going to sound that reassuring, Minn Alskling, ...it's a mystery, how...disjointed everything has become.” He felt a cooling current touch his skin and watched a few silken strands of Celeste’s hair dance about her face, only to be captured by her heated brow and cheeks. ”Tonight, I’m taking things moment to moment. You’re right, there’s so much going on; I expected that, but the intrigue-we need to be mindful, but we cannot let it distract us. We both know why we are here, why we have to be here, right now! They need us, and you know that," he avowed earnestly, reaching up to delicately brush the blowing strands of hair from her cheeks. She nodded and leaned to one hand for a moment.

His hand giving a brief and furtive caress, he met her gaze and said firmly, "Come on! We need to medal the heroes. Concentrate! On the field of battle, there’s always a plan. We have a plan- strategy guiding the tactics that change as needed when conditions alter. The people need to feel they are moving forward-the troops have to have confidence that they can depend on one another, that they need to act together-You knew that instinctively. I’m proud of you. You pulled these people together, got them to move in unison, to let go of the past, the greed, and worry! They were in the moment.” He smirked and chuckled. “They don’t even like one another! And look what you accomplished! Your instincts were right. We can do this! We have to do this!” He kissed her hands and smiled at her, feeling more centered himself.

She smiled back up to him and nodded silently and they walked toward the front of the Atrium’s dais. Celeste lifted her head and stood taller, Anakin noted, and carried herself with a bright gaze, surveying the crowds, with a gracious, but restrained smile.

The young Emperor wet his lips, but Anakin still found it hard to smile out at the public. These past 8 years had been a fever dream of wild ins and outs of light and dark. He tried to press a small smile of his own, and decided he probably came across as disingenuous. Somehow, smiles in public seemed too great a liberty to take, as if he had no right to them, anyway. He nodded and took in the floor of the vaulted room and surveyed the military arrayed before the dais on the floor of the Atrium and then looked to the many balconied floors rising up into the transparisteel vaulting above and then again to the floor.

There were cheers and clapping, but it was hard to hear for all the thoughts and memories he had to hold at bay. Force! Was it always going to be like this? He reminded himself to wave, but found he searched for Ahsoka, and seeing all the usual “suspects,” even Oskura, 7th Sister’s replacement, Tarkin and Captain Magnusson approaching the dais. There were Sabe and the Colonel, the Union contingent, Director Krennic, and on dais and to his side, the Ruling Council, Speaker Amedda, and the self-proclaimed indispensable oracle of institutional memory, Grand Vizier Sate Pestage, keeper of Sidious’ legend skeletons-Focus! In the crowd, Motti, Grand Admirals Leitman and Carthaginian, who would soon be joining him for the ceremony.

There! He tried to catch her eye. He’d been searching the sea of beings on the floor of the Atrium for a pair of elegantly turned blue and white montrals. Was that her sitting at Senator Organa’s table, next to Senator Chuchi? No...it was someone else, someone who could be Ahsoka’s sister, or even her twin, but she was dressed completely differently than ‘Snips,’ nor did she ‘feel’ like Ahsoka through the Force. Now he smiled in spite of himself. There! Clarity and trust, Ahsoka was heading toward the dais. He felt his shoulders relax.

If only “Brother” Vos was present. No, it was good he was out investigating the Naboo incident and chasing down the Flarestar. Speaking of which, there was no word yet on whether Captain Dorja had been successful in working with Nacluv in quelling the Naboo. The 7th Fleet was still in orbit there and Dorja was working to cool the current Naboo crisis. They needed to roll back their planetary alert and shields, contact the Imperial forces on the planet, and obtain the infamous dossier taken from the Emperor’s Retreat. -How would such a ‘loose end’ have escaped Palpatine’s attention?- Colonel Yularen would have heard from Grand Admiral Thrawn, if there’d been any change. Anakin breathed in and reminded himself that he could not possibly be “hands-on” with every occurrence around the Galaxy and if Sidious had indeed left “the garden gate open,” Thrawn would not only close it and put it under lock and key, he’d have it double encrypted and transported stone to pebble! Anakin smiled to himself and shook his head.

“We’re nearly ready, Your ...Majesty,” said Mas Amedda, bowing his horned head forward, hand over his chest in deference.

“Esehigi!”

Celeste raised her brows at Anakin’s clenched-whisper.

“Begging your pardon, Majesty,” said Amedda, his deep voice not withstanding, sounding very confused and concerned he’d given offense.

Celeste reassured the Speaker, “It’s nothing at all, Speaker Amedda. His Majesty is just...so looking forward to addressing the gathered.” She squeezed Anakin’s hand in hers and gave him a wink.

“Eh...ah, right-I’m...ah...elated!” said the young Emperor.

The Speaker bowed again and led the way forward. Anakin, giving a quick glance in the direction he’d spied her approaching, looked for Ahsoka, once more. She would stand at the Emperor and Empress’ side for the ceremony to come.

Now, they approached the Ruling Council and the Ursean diplomatic corps and court and gave a formal greeting.

Celeste whispered, queringly, “What is this...Esehigi?”

Sate Pestage stepped forward and officially offered a welcome to the Empress on behalf of the Council.

The Emperor and Empress gave a shallow bow in return and continued on.

“It’s a ...sort of exclamation of ...heightened ...eh...feeling. Grand Admiral Thrawn taught it to me-you’ll meet him tomorrow.” said Anakin, between greetings.

“Oh...“Es-eh-higi?” Like that?” she asked to be certain of the correct pronunciation, as they waved and greeted, committing the exclamation to memory.

Anakin winced. “I think so...it’s been...awhile.”

“Are you alright?” asked Celeste, with concern. “your cheeks are flushed.”

He smiled and raised his brows and nodded to the crowd.

She waved, and in her mind, practiced the word once again before receiving another formal greeting...


TAG: @Corellian_Outrider @Ominous @TheAdmiral @Adalia-Durron @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha @Kalio_Dynkos

 

ISB Agent Fouche (under the assumed name Mr. Ringali)
KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector

The little Sullustan boy looked cute, all tuckered out and asleep. In the past two days, it was perhaps the only real quiet time Fouche had had, with the exception of a mini-coma under the influence of a bacta bath. But those don’t really count as naps.

The ISB agent had been undercover nearing Brentaal IV when the ship (which had suspected of being a courier for the CIS) had, in turn, been attacked by mercenaries. Interestingly, the ship had been automated on its course by the hyperspace tether - hard-wired to follow a certain course in the event of an emergency. The emergency had taken the place of Fouche, breaking his cover (and a few heads) in an attempt to take over the ship. However, his escape was cut short, he was injured and rescued by a Sullustan only known to him so far as the Colonel.

And then there was Jalen, the young boy ahead of him that had been far too happy to find someone in his mother’s operating room. Fouche’s good eye still stung from the little poke he’d given him to see if he was alive. Fouche leaned in to check if the kid was still breathing. He did look cute. And quiet.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” he yelled in Jalen’s face in mock terror.

The kid shot up, arms flailing, and wouldn’t you know it, hit Fouche in the eye.

“Yep…yep, I asked for that,” he said rubbing it.

The implant was fresh, and Force, the pain was real.

And Jalen was back asleep.

“Huh,” Fouche mused.

The door opened behind him to reveal the short stature Dr. Xelss Walki, hands on her hips.

“You won’t be trying that again, I think, Mr. Ringali,” she said tapping her toe.

“No…I probably will,” he replied with a smirk.

“The Colonel says to tell you that the pirates entered Hyperspace. You’re lucky to have survived twice today,” she said.

“You do keep saying that.”

She walked past him to tuck in her son.

“Jalen has taken a liking to you, Mr. Ringali,” she said softly. “Will you be staying with us long?”

“I guess it all depends on where you are taking me,” Fouche replied.

“Only The Colonel knows.”

“Will I ever meet this Colonel - what did you say his name was?”

“Just The Colonel,” she replied. “And, in time.”

Entering hyperspace could honestly mean any destination. However, he had been rescued in orbit of Brentaal IV - which was the intersection of the Perlemian and Hydian Way. The Commenor Run was also possible - Caamas, Alderaan, Kattada…If he could just a view of a nav-chart. Surely, it wasn't a coincidence that as CIS courier ship was attacked by pirates, what with the war being over and all.

Fouche made for the door, but it didn’t open. Which come to think of it, since arriving he hadn’t left this sickbay.

“Am I a prisoner here, Doctor,” he asked.

“That depends, Mr. Ringali. Should you be?”

TAG: No One or anyone

------


IC: Imperial Grand Admiral Magnus Carthaginian and USF Grand Admiral Julien Leitman
Galactic Senate Building - Grand Senate Atrium, Coruscant

The newly minted Emperor and Empress rose, making their way to the dais. The Hero with No Fear certainly looked out of his element as they interacted. He kept scanning the crowd as if looking for the eyes of someone. Who was anyone’s guess, but it was obvious enough that even the usually stoic, carefully emotionless face of Grand Admiral Julien Leitman reflected his Re’s expression.

Magnus sipped at the last of his Toniray Wine.

“I believe, Uncle, that is our queue,” he said, dabbing a napkin at his mouth.

“Yes,” Leitman joined in. “Dog and pony time. You’ll excuse us, gentleman.”

Both rose from their seats and made their way away from the table, toward the Emperor’s Dais. They had both been requested for the Medal’s Ceremony.

Magnus pulled taught the front of his stark white uniform - only one a few such outfits in the room. In what was a room full of agendas, angles, sycophants, and vipers in the grass it was perhaps the first time many of them would appreciate who he was. For a fleeting moment, and he couldn’t help it, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. How long ago had it been, that moment in Lord Vader’s office?

I demand loyalty, Captain.

Vader's deep baritone had echoed in the Ursean palace those years ago as if it had been through a vocoder instead of his own mouth. Yet, there he stood, reddening in the face and talking with his wife. Not the field general that Magnus had known, nor the man that would harbor no disloyalty.

Magnus and Leitman made their way without words. In many ways, they were two sides of a coin. Julien, the USF Grand Admiral had been a loyal supporter of the Re Mavrat and his wife Celeste, the Ursean Reina. He’d served the Ursa Royalty through the Clone Wars, lost his family in the process, and continued to fight alongside his Re.

Magnus, had joined Ursa late in the war - having distinguished himself as a Captain throughout the Core Worlds. Where Leitman stood for the Ursean Security Forces, for almost blind submission to his matriarch and her husband, Magnus stood as a representative of the Empire. Leitman had defended Ursa in memory of his family, whereas Magnus had climbed the ranks of this new Empire in a way a man born of his standing expected to find life.

Like two sides of the coin, each representing the duality of the Re’s interest. They had ultimately come to appreciate that they were on the same coin. That what Anakin Skywalker did for Ursa he did for the Empire, and vice versa. What the future held, as the two became one in a much grander sense was anyone’s guess.

I demand loyalty, Captain.

The words again echoed in Magnus’ ears as he recalled the final moments of the battle that saw Emperor Sheev Palpatine die, the final destruction of the CIS, and more recently, a return to Coruscant still bearing the wounds of war from Rebel attacks.

As they neared their position to wait, Grand Admiral Magnus Carthaginian recalled another moment from his history. In this very same atrium, his father had taken a much younger Magnus to see the government at work, to see first hand the fragility of politics in the dying days of the Republic.

Respect, Magnus, is earned. Honesty, appreciated. But, loyalty…loyalty is returned, he said then. Never let your loyalty make a fool of you.

The Grand Admirals stopped at their predetermined spaces, awaiting further instruction. Magnus looked out in the room, making specific eye contact with those eyes from around the Empire - what must they be thinking? How many were loyalists? And how many were traitors? And who could tell the difference?


Tag: All at Reception, @pashatemur

 

OCC: This post was contributed to by TheAdmiral, whom I thank and to whom I send my best.

IC: Elias Blud, investor, among other things..., Nyll, and Elwis Bontraar
LOCATION: Reception on Coruscant, the Senate Rotunda Atrium

Elias leaned out of the intense discussion in which he'd been engaged for what seemed hours. Not that it wasn't to his benefit, but he'd been neglectful of the lovely young Twi'lek, Nyll. He turned his cold grey eyes to the rare red-skinned beauty and smiled apologetically. "So sorry, my dear. I've left you to your own amidst all of us old and unexciting crones. Do forgive me, child," said Blud, patting her hand with his cold and oddly powerful one. "-Ah! Here is dinner. Would you care for some bubbly, my dear?"

The reception was going on around her, but she had been focused on Ahsoka for most of the time. Good thing her friend had been mostly with the Empress so she had an excuse to observe them without arising too much suspicion. She almost jumped from the touch. It kind of reminded her of her time as a slave. Nyll managed to keep herself in control and smiled “Oh, I am used to it, Adrias always leaves me alone when conducting business.” she shrugged “Yes, thank you.” she replied to his question about the drink.

Blud smiled knowingly and with a discrete gesture, beckoned a server over to requisition the drinks. He took the delicate stems and set them down admonishing Nyll to savor the delicacies set before her, "They have gone to great length to set a very fine feast, trust me."

“So, Mr. Blud...” the voice came from across the table, “I’ve been hearing much about you and your entertainment ventures, lately.”

“Ah,” said Elias, turning to the confident speaker, “that they progress profitably, I hope,” he replied with a nod. “And you Mr. Bontraar, your ventures are dramatically pronounced across the holonet these past few days. Things have heated up around the project, and all on schedule. That’s quite a feat, particularly for so ambitious a venture. It’s difficult to hold adaptive reuse construction to a hard and fast schedule-so many...redesigns correct infrastructural obsolescence, instabilities, and...unannounced military exercises.”

“Damndest thing!” exclaimed Bontraar quietly, ascenting, glass in hand before him, “I’m still waiting to hear from General Staff at Imperial High Command about that operation. Those explosions, lamentable though the loss of life may be, saved us the expense of demolition! Still, I registered our board’s outrage that we were not notified about the war games.”

“Yessss, yessss,” Elias sniffed thoughtfully, as Bontraar explained, “There seems to be some discrepancy about where the orders were cut. I was told it was a training mission for a small company’s worth of soldiers. They were using a combination of live and blank ammunition and low level laser systems. As reported, some live munitions were used in the wrong locations.” Elias, leaning back against the plush scarlet upholstered of the long and curving divan that served as seating for the combined Ruling Council, Ursean delegation, and special guests on the broad dais. Putting his index finger alongside his nose and his chin resting on his extended thumb, Elias smiled a bit. “Clearly! I understand the explosions were so forceful, they really mightn’t be able to ever identify the casualties, given the caustic nature of the pollutant chemicals that permeate the DZ,” he said referring to the long abandoned brown fields of the old industrial region, seeming thoughtfully.

“A shame!” said Bontraar, taking another sip of his bubbly and sighing, looking out at the floor of the Atrium, his eyes following a very beautiful, bejeweled woman, dressed in a deep emerald green. Blud too, followed the elegant woman on the arm of a prominent official in white dress uniform. “We're left with a liability!”

“It’s about turning liabilities into assets, Bontraar, liabilities to assets. Plans ...have changed somewhat, but setbacks may be turned to investors’ advantage, wouldn’t you say, and the project goes forward with the added bonus of future funding extractions for the promise... of rendering stubborn impediments...disappeared! The power of positive thinking!”

Elias glanced down the length of the curving tables and caught Sate Pestage’s eye. The Vizier subtly smirked, but continued a conversation in which he seemed immersed. Blud’s face relaxed into a blank stare, his steely eyes returning to the elegant woman for a moment and then to people sitting nearby, and committing those with whom he was not yet familiar to memory. He unobtrusively observed the gestures, movements, and postures of them, particularly those of a young couple sitting opposite and to his left, an athletic young human male with an impressive head of honey-colored hair and mutton chops and a delicate-framed young woman with the face of an angel and a round black tattoo peeking from under her right wrist.

The deep reverberations of a gong penetrated the ambient noise of the Atrium and there was movement towards the lip of the dais.

“Ah, I think we are going to be speech-ed at my dear. Time to rise to the occasion with proper pomp and attention,” urged Blud, directing Nyll’s gaze to the Emperor and Empress.


TAG: @TheAdmiral and everyone: @Adalia-Durron @Darth_Elu @Kalio_Dynkos @Ominous @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

 

~OOC~ Special thanks to @Kalio_Dynkos and @pashatemur for your input and for being a part of this post. It was fun.

~IC~ Ahsoka Tano - Commissar + USF Grand Admiral Julien Leitman + Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin
Location: Coruscant - Galactic Senate Building - Grand Senate Atrium

Ahsoka walked along the gathered officers as she headed to the dais. Her thoughts went over the exchange she had with the Ursean Admiral Leitman, just on the cuff of the talk she had with Bail... Riyo’s expression... and how unexpected Zaa had surprised her like that... this evening was certainly the confluence of many meetings, old and new. Looking up to Celeste and Anakin, their eyes met and a smile blossomed on Ahsoka’s lips-

A jab to her elbow surprised her, she pivoted on her heel as she turned to face the the perpetrator.

“Easy there, Tiger!” A man said with a wink and flashed a charming smile.

“Terric? Gosh!” Ahsoka caught herself and smiled as she recognised the rest of the All-Stars battle group lined up along with him. “I am glad you’ve made it, all of you.”

“It is good to see you once again, you can thank Lord Vader for inviting myself and the other AllStars to this lavish party. How are things with you?”

Someone made a sound with their throat.

Ahsoka paused and glanced to the dais and then back to Terric. “I am well thank you, things are... better... I am needed at the moment but I hope we can catch up soon.”

“Miss Tano.” A crisp voice interrupted them.

Ahsoka turned her head and refrained from cringing. Tarkin. She stepped away from Terric to spare him from Tarkin’s gaze.

“Or is it Commissar? It seems you inspired His Majesty's gratitude with your determined return. Odd, you escaped his earlier purge when Jedi knights and Masters of greater caliber fell to his saber,” said the Grand Moff , his eye caught by some small speck fouling the sleeve of his uniformed perfection, a speck he brushed away. Then with a sigh, he added, his desicating smile whithering, "Well, just proves how the winds may change." Then altering course, he chided with a tisk, "The ceremony is beginning. Hadn't you better hurry? "

Ahsoka’s lips pursed a fraction. Her azure eyes watchful. Ignoring the barb about the other Jedi and of caliber. “Odd as it may be to you. Though if I had fallen, we wouldn’t be exchanging such pleasantries... and that would be a shame.”

Tarkin was turning to ascend the steps and halted, his smile reappearing. "Ah, that's a start..." he said, waving a skeletal finger at her, "but the seas are deep here in Coruscant, "Padawan." We'll see if you can keep your head above water before you're truly put to the test."

Ahsoka caught herself from glowering. “They may be deep but this is not the first ocean I’ve swum in.” She forced a smile. “I am a natural swimmer.”

He raised a brow. "And certainly not the first time you were in over your head." Tarkin added, sure to keep one step above the Commissar.

“Everyone has their moments...” Ahsoka stepped carefully to not catch her gown as she climbed the stairs, though dared not lower her gaze from the man. At the corner of her vision she sensed Anakin’s observing them. “...ups and downs... What is done to overcome such obstacles is where true character shows.”

"...and still wet behind the ears! ...Charming!"

She smiled sweetly. “I’m glad you find it so.”

---

Julien Leitman stood in silence near the dais, his gaze out into the crowd with no particular face he had hoped to come back to him. Today, he'd found himself off his game - more reflective than normal. Emotions seemed to bubble up from the recesses of his being that he had thought long since calloused. Perhaps it was the final realization that the war was over, that what he'd been pouring every fiber of his being into since the death of his dear family was suddenly not the monstrous pull on his time anymore. Or perhaps, it was the unsettling feeling that Ursa joining a larger stage was perhaps not what she needed right now.

His thoughts flowed back to the new Commissar Ahsoka Tano, a former Jedi that clearly knew the Re. She was his old apprentice - presumably before he became the Jedi Security Advisor to Ursa. Her seemingly boundless joy stood out amongst those that have grown up in this era.

He brushed at his uniform absently, remembering her bouncing into him just a few hours ago by the fountain, and apologizing for it just minutes into meeting again at the reception. Of course, it was forgiven. Her joviality was welcome, particularly now.

As if on queue, to his right the Commissar was making her way to the dais along with Tarkin. Interestingly, though the Grand Moff was ostentatiously in front of her as they ascended, his demeanor was more like a Corellian Hound nipping at the heels of a wayward pup. Wayward perhaps she had been, but a pup - certainly not. And Tarkin’s methods were all too familiar to the people of Ursa, of Gripsholm perhaps the most. In the early days of the Empire it seemed Tarkin, Peitt and Veers were always nearby. They had been supportive of Vader then, but implications were that the times had changed as Tarkin's own role in the Empire grew.

The USF Grand Admiral bowed slightly to each the Commisar and the Grand Moff in turn.

"A pleasure to see you both again," he said, in his deep baritone. "You've found the evening to your liking, I hope. The Grand Moff is, of course, familiar with our customs and presentations. But you, Commisar, this is your first time amongst our ceremony."

Tall like many Urseans, broad shoulders, muscled - Julien smiled behind his over-hanging mustachios.

"Kindly share with me your observation, Commissar."

Tarkin looked over the Ursean's head to briefly crack a formal smile to an approaching Imperial from the crowd. The floor was now nearly taken up entirely by the military, Imperial and Ursean with a group here and there of colonial officers from various outer-rim militia, who still existed, in spite of Wilhuff's staunch advice to Palpatine that it was best to subsume these groups , absorbing them into the hierarchy of Imperial Command before they act on independent agendas and become well armed rebel cells.

He eyed Grand Admiral Leitman down the length of his nose and then curtly gave a stiff shallow bow, again mounting his dry smile and said, "Ah, Grand Admiral Leitman, Grrrusse Seele. We should allow you to advance, you'll be needed at the side of your Re and Reina."

Ahsoka’s smile to the Ursean was genuine and felt grateful for his presence. She past Tarkin, as the Moff gave his greeting, and glanced to Anakin and saw he was watching. Anakin’s brow intense and that hard set of his jaw indicative of his ire piqued. It was an understatement that neither of them was fond of Tarkin, especially with the history shared between the three from several years ago.

“Grusse seele?”Ahsoka tentatively said the phrase to ensure she pronounced it correctly. Her mouth opened to say further but was interrupted.

Tarkin pressed a brittle smug smile and looked to Leitman. "Old Ursean, I believe, meaning something akin to 'May you live within the Great Soul!' He said looking skyward and waving his hand in a dismissive gesture as he drawled.. "The Grand Admiral will fill you in, to be sure.” He turned as he made it clear the conversation was over, Motti sidling up and quick to engage Tarkin, "Grand Admiral, Commissar," said Tarkin in parting.

Ahsoka pursed her lips, she exhaled slowly through her nostrils and counted a few seconds as she watched the Moff move on. “That is a trying and difficult person... and rarely a happy one.” She said softly, audible for just herself and Admiral Leitman to hear. “Thank you for...” she smiled as she looked to him. “Thank you.”

Leitman smirked.

"Happy to be of service, Commisar," he said, bowing his head again.

“No good deed goes unrewarded.” Ahsoka bowed her head in return, her lekku gently swayed from the movement. She looked over to Anakin and Celeste, they had observed the exchange they had with Tarkin. She hoped that she was successful in not allowing Tarkin to rile her up nor compromise anything. “I think we are needed... and I be happy to lend my observations when we get a chance.”

TAG: @pashatemur @Kalio_Dynkos

 

OOC: Reposting from February 12, 2018. Hard to believe it was so long ago already

NPC Captain Jeri Coghlan
SoroSuub Corporation, Sullust, Outer Rim
Outer Rim Territories

It was the stench that hit him first. The dark room slowly came into focus, in contrast to the brightly lit corridor. The smell was one part charred flesh and one part bile. “Putrid” was the first word that came to Jeri's mind. The stormtrooper at his left snapped on his wrist lamp, and it was the grisly sight that hit him next.

What was supposed to be a room full of Confederate prisoners gathered up by their former Sullustan slaves was instead unrecognizable as anything other than charred, smoking heaps. Jeri took in the whole site, slowly moving his gaze with the trooper's lamp from one heap to the next, from wall to wall and to the ceiling where scorch marks had burned from the walls up. He took a deep breath to quell the ire at the inhumanity of the scene before him, and instantly regretted the action as the stench burned into his nostrils. His body’s shock at the horrid tasting smell caused him to hold his breath, his eyes watering. He turned slowly on his heel and walked into the corridor, wordlessly cursing the stormtrooper's helmet with its built-in bio-filters.

Entering the hallway, he let the breath out of his nostrils in a slow hiss. Leveling his gaze on the overseer of the factory, Jeri hoped he looked more like a seething gundark than a stomach-ill Imperial captain holding back a gag on what was probably the charred DNA of the Confederate overlords that had been here.

He rubbed the edge of his mouth with his sleeve. For a moment he thought about going for the respirator that hung at his belt, but knowing it would show a weakness when he needed to appear commanding, he let it hang there and stared down on the Sullustan.

"Care to tell me what has happened here," he asked the Sullustan Overseer, through clenched teeth.

As the words were translated by the rusted and dinged up protocol droid, the diminutive Sullustan's large black eyes betrayed no motion. Was that fear? Indignation? Anger? Curiosity?

"Jeri, sir, the Overseer says that he does not know what you are talking about," the droid translated.

"Does he care to step inside," Jeri asked evenly, waving an open hand to the room.

An exchange between the droid and the Sullustan betrayed nothing.

"Manufacturing Overseer Nbid Surrub says he has not been in this room to inspect the prisoners since the facility was retaken," the Droid said.

"Two weeks? And never once?"

"Overseer Surrub says seeing them caused him too much pain, Jeri, sir."

“Guilt from allowing a mass murder?”

The droid arms shot up in shock - one made it over his head while the other rusted arm merely made it midway, freezing with a grind of gears. It hung pointed at Jeri. The protocol droid turned to the Overseer, his arms unmoving almost comically in the turn. The Overseer merely blinked his large eyes. Then blinked again and turned back wordlessly to the droid. Then to the Captain. Then back to the droid.

"Oh, dear. He had no idea," the droid said finally. "How did they die?"

"I should be asking that question," Jeri replied.

What was going on here?

Two weeks ago, this planet and all of its installations had been under the dominion of the CIS. It had been liberated by a small Imperial strike force that had left an interim governor in charge at the capital city underground. A stormtrooper garrison had been set up and control of the planet was given back to the Sullustan's. It was a wonderful victory for the Empire of Free Systems. Further, as the Empire later pressed on to destroy the leader of the CIS and a CIS superweapon, humanitarian aid had been able to get here to Sullust before the end of the war far ahead of other distressed regions.

But how did such a success turn into so much carnage? Was this the only facility that this had happened at? Had the Sullustan's hated their Confederate slavers that much?

"What happened in there," Jeri asked, taking a step toward the Overseer.

The overseer's large eyes blinked, waiting for the translation. Slowly his hands went up in a shrug.

Time to try a different method.

Jeri stepped closer to the Overseer and heard the Stormtrooper at his side advance with him. He towered over the Sullustan, at least a meter smaller than him. Jeri put both hands on his hips and scowled down at the man.

"They're dead," he said. "Killed and left to stink. Burning, stinking heaps of burned nothing. And I'm to believe the man who helped them send his own people to the proverbial gallows through slavery has no idea...not even an inkling what happened to them."

The Sullustan, to his credit, did not cower. He simply looked to the droid and spoke.

"The Overseer regrets to tell you, Jeri, sir, that is correct," the droid translated.

Jeri advanced again.

"Who was watching over them?"

"After the Imperial forces left, the prisoners were left under the charge of Sullustans, Jeri, sir."

"Did the Overseer know they would kill their former handlers?"

"He did not."

"Where are they now?"

"Presumably gone, Jeri, sir."

"Then who was in charge of the prisoners? Who fed them? Oversaw their well being as prisoners of war?”

"That was not necessary."

"Why?"

"They were dead."

Ah. There it is.

Jeri shifted his body slightly so that his bulking frame could take in the Sullustan and the protocol droid at one time. He placed a thick hand at his belt, looping his thumb through the band.

“Now how would you know that,” he asked.

The droid shifted wordlessly between the two being in front of him. Its gears loudly rubbing as it turned from side to side, the arms still frozen in an “L” shape between them.

“Oh, dear,” it said.

Jeri looped his other thumb into the band of his belt and waited.

“The prisoners…the slaves…esteemed Imperial Captain…Jeri,sir…”

He waited.

“I wasn’t programmed for this,” the droid complained.

The stormtrooper behind Jeri cocked his blaster rifle.

“You won’t be coded for much more unless you answer the question, rust-bucket,” he said.

Jeri wouldn’t normally like such a show of force, but he had to admit in this case, the moment was right. Could you intimidate a droid?

“What happened to the prisoners,” he asked the rusted droid.

“They were..casualties,” it replied simply.

“Who killed them?”

“The Liberated.”

A pang in the pit of his stomach was starting to form.

“You mean the slaves? They did this?”

“Oh, no. Jeri, sir. The Sullustans are a peaceful people!”

Jeri took a step back from the droid and Overseer Surrub. Neither offered more information. The Sullustan blinked and watched the conversation wordlessly. The droid’s arms were still frozen - one in the air, one pointed at Jeri. The Imperial doffed his pointed hat and folded it in his hands.

“The Empire liberated Sullust,” he reminded them, “at great sacrifice. Men and women, complete strangers of this system, died for Sullustan freedom. I would hope that means something.”

“Oh, yes, Jeri, sir,” the droid said, and turned to the Overseer. “It means Sullust is free.”

“And what of the munitions, the droids, and the craft that this facility created?”

“They’ve been liberated, as well, Jeri, sir.”

"On whose behalf?"

The facilities would have been contained by the Imperial forces, but a removal of the untold number of droids, munitions, and craft on the scale that this factory and others had been churning out weapons would take months. How could they disappear with a Stormtrooper garrison nearby?

"The Liberated," the droid simply said.

This was turning into a riddle and going nowhere, and Jeri had no time for games.

“And who,” he asked through gritted teeth, “are the Liberated?”

An untold number of droids, munitions, and craft to carry them would have come through this facility and others like it across the city. To think of them all in the hands of a crazy sect that decided to take on vigilantism was no comfort at all. Jeri cursed the Imperial strike force that had come here, released a people, and moved on to Felucia to their next stage of the battle - only leaving a provisional governor in charge.

Overseer Sorrub finally said something and was translated by the droid.

“Overseer Sorrub feels it time that he invites you to leave, Jeri, sir,” it said. “My apologies.”

“To hell with that,” Jeri roared. “What is going on here?!”

“Sir,” came the Stormtrooper at his side, activating his blaster rifle with a whine of energy.

Jeri followed his gaze and saw the hand of the droid that had seemed frozen at the midsection was missing the tips of four fingers, and they looked an awful lot like the ends of blaster carbines.

Jeri opened his arms in an incredulous moan to the Sullustan.

“What do you actually think is going to happen? Sullust is free, under the protection of the Empire, and a full-fledged member! You don’t need to do this.”

Sorrub looked to the ground and walked away.

“Sir, perhaps we should return to the ship,” the trooper said over his shoulder.

Jeri waved him off, ignoring both the droid and the trooper.

“Is this insurrection? Are you refusing support from the Empire? I have to be clear what’s happening here.”

The Sullustan paused and turned back. He spoke to the droid.

“Sullust is thankful to the Empire for its assistance,” it said, “You are welcome anytime, Jeri, sir.”


****

The olive green Imperial Captain’s hat was balled up beyond recognition in Jeri’s massive hands. How had that gone so wrong so quickly? What or who were the Liberated? A criminal organization? Was this Sullust’s attempt at secession? Had the Clone Wars taught them nothing? What had happened to all the weapons that the factory had manufactured?

There were more questions than there were answers, and he had nothing to give to Imperial Command. Had anything wrong actually been done, besides the hurt to his pride? They didn’t say they were leaving the Empire. In fact, they hadn’t said anything. Just Sorrub dismissed them, not the provisional government.

As the V-35 courier tore across the obsidian landscape towards the entrance to the intricate lift-system that would take him to the underground city, he found himself unsure of the answer. What was sure, was that The Witch of Endor wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Pulling out his comm, he looked back at the factory as it diminished in size on the horizon.

“Lieutenant. Prepare a scouting party. I’ll have instructions for you when I arrive,” he said.


TAG: Soon

 

?

 

OOC: A pleasure as always to collaborate with Pash.

IC:Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Captain Iljin Malkovich, Zandra

LOCATION: KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector

As the big man stepped onto the bridge, some crew sat up a little straighter. Captain Galen walked over to the General and their Imperial guest. “Welcome Commander. It’s Buro correct?” She looked up at Torian, who allowed the Imperial to speak for himself, an aid handing the General a report, Torian excused himself and took a few steps away to look over the datapad.

Habit prescribed Buro’s demeanor and posture. He forced a smile and swallowed, snapping a nod and saluting as his heels clicked. Now, he stood extended, taller, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, Captain, Mam, Commander Mekran Buro,” he answered crisply. “Have the Zandra and Fortunata yet decanted,” he asked, a bit stiffly, catching Galen’s glance and clearing his throat.

She forgot about the Imperial salute. So crisp. The snap to and heel click. It brought her back to her days at the academy before she left to join the Alliance like the others did. Galen turned to the viewport and pointed with two fingers. “There they are now, just off to port, a little way from us.” Walking to the comms station, she offered, “We can hail them for you. Would you like to make contact with them or shall I do the speaking?”

Buro unfolded his cap and set it properly on his blond pate, then gestured to her with a nod. “This is your command, Captain. As protocol prescribes, I defer to you. After you have declared yourselves, then I will report, if required by my Commanding Officer, Captain, Mam,” he said smartly.

Returning, Torian stared out of the viewport at the arriving Imperials. “What’s your next move Captain?”

“We are attempting comms with our Imperial friends.” ‘Friends’ sounded odd coming out of her mouth so casually. She turned back to Buro, “Is there anything we can do differently for you?”

“No, Sir-Mam,” said Buro, standing at the ready, heart pounding at the critical circumstance of this endeavor became more prominent in his mind.



The Zandra’s decking pulsed like an old mechanical clock, it’s gears sticking at regular intervals and jazzing up the tempo with a synopation. It gave everyone a bit of a clench, hoping that was the most of her damage, that they’d clear the needed jumps without further problems arising and stick together long enough to reach drydock safely.

Iljin Malkovich, Captain and Commander of the beleaguered Imperial convoy, had called a briefing with his ranking officers and elaborated on their situation and their current status, asking for input and options. The discourse took more than a few hotly contested turns, but namely, how and whether to fight their captors and rescuers.

Lieutenant Ailes, seated beside the Captain, looked to the officers around the table as one spoke over another in rapid succession. It started orderly enough, but now the briefing had derailed. Malkovich listened in silence, palm in hand and a finger alongside his nose.

“We’re not slaved to their ships, we could make a couple of micro jumps off tangent and beat it to Coruscant. I’ve run a scenario and the nav comp gives an 11% margin of error at successful completion of the objective. It’s dicey, but we do have enough residual to break away before they can intercept. ”

“What?! And abandon the Fortunata and Dagger’s crew?

“That’s a damn low Confidence Level! The rebel ships are in better fit. It’s sealing wax and a ball of string holding the Zandra together, as is.

“Die now rather than at Coruscant?”

“How is this rescue? The moment we decant, Sector Command will be all over us! They may well board us and execute us on the spot with no less speed than they dispatch the rebels.

“Precedent and standing our orders are clear! We destroy the enemy and barring that, we scuttle! Babbit was a rogue, but he was right; we destroy them or die trying!”

“With what Salinti’ki! We are down to 1 missile and a case of EMP grenades. We haven’t got enough for a fireworks display!”

Malkovich finally raised his brows and spoke, his sonorous drawl parting the mounting tumult, “We are still here to debate because the rebels rescued us! We needed rescuing and we needed to survive.”

“Survive to be executed?”

The Captain sighed, “We have crucial reconnaissance on an enemy WITHIN Imperial space. Radiation interference was heavy, and we have no way to know if the system rerouted any of our messages to fleet command. The threat is immediate and of an unknown number, weapons, and position. Those aliens were not choosing between Imperial or rebel. Observations of them, their ships, weapons and tactics and the data from Hidden Dagger are critical to our finding the best response to this threat. Our imperative is clear- to reach Coruscant with all speed and deliver this information to the Emperor! We’re badly in need of at least 2 weeks in drydock and at least 2 jumps from one. Our best means of surviving the journey is with this Rebel group.”

The objections remaining were mostly held silent, but the Captain’s reminder of the threat and the Zandra’s precarious status, redefined the briefing and the matter of how best to continue the necessary cooperation and stay alive was considered and left to Malkovich, the briefing ending abruptly as they decanted and soon were hailed by the Rebel flagship, Storm’s Eye.



Captain Galen pressed a button on the console and leaned into the microphone, “Imperial ship Zandra, this is Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye. We have decided to decant to this location and determine the next steps. We would like to have a briefing with you, either here aboard our ship or yours. Over.”

Torian handed the datapad back to the officer and saluted. He walked back over to stand next to the Imperial. The General could feel the man was tense and under a lot of stress at the moment. “Relax Commander.” He would have put his hand on his shoulder, but the Imperial more than likely would have jumped through the viewport into space! “I understand your circumstance. Aboard a Rebel vessel, having to report back to your command.” He looked out the viewport of the ship. “It’s going to work. Trust me.”

“I truly hope so, General, Sir. Immediate and extenuating logistics aside, it’s more the future that holds those aliens I’m concerned about. I’ve family-younger brother and parents. I imagine you do, as well. The war’s been hard on them all. We hoped for a spate of peace,” said Buro looking at the reflection of the crew in the viewport. There was the General, a veritable rock in a sea of muster. He looked to the Zandra in the distance and now the arriving Fortunata. The Fortunata looked fit but the Zandra hung alarmingly in the white pocked distance like ‘hell on a stick.’ Brow knitted tightly, the Imperial swore under his breath at the sight of that battered frigate.

Malkovich glanced around his bridge and considered the desperation that still hung in the air after meeting with his crew. Malkovich knew his command was over. He’d never been a by-the-book officer. In fact, the ‘book’ was likely going to come slamming down on him once they reported in. The Admiralty’s list of his errors was quite long, and this would be the final mark against him. Chin resting on his extended thumb, he nodded as he replied to the good captain. “Ah, what fun, the archeologist life! Hello, Doctor-Captain Galen. Captain Malkovich, His Imperial Majesty’s-Zandra, etcetera. We haven’t had the opportunity to tidy up. Your place would be perfect. Over in 2 shakes! Ah, anything else?”

Captain Galen let the snarky comment pass. She looked over at the big General standing next to the Imperial. Torian held his ire in check for the snarky comment. He nodded at Galen. She knew that if he could, he would have reached through the communication line and strangled the elitist Imperial officer.

She flipped the comm back on, “No Captain Malkovich. We are ready to receive you. How many are you bringing over?”

Torian walked over to Galen and leaned over to her ear so as not to alert the Buro. He softly spoke, “I’ll have the receiving party ready when they arrive. If this Malkovich so much as farts in my general direction, I blow his Imperial butt out the hangar doors into space.”

He looked back over to Commander Buro and smiled. He was beginning to like this Imperial. “I have some things to attend to in the hangar Commander. You can stay here with Captain Galen. She will escort you to the hangar when your friends arrive.”

He turned and walked off the bridge. The atmosphere relaxed some on the bridge when the big man exited. Torian pulled his comm link from his belt. “Sgt. Wills, have your team assemble and walk with me to the hangar, battle rattle. We have Imperials coming to visit us.”

The comm link chirped back, “Yes, General. Shall we bring out the big party favors?”

The General chuckled, “Just one, I think the size of your team should be enough to keep them from trying anything funny. The Imperial we brought back with us will be there too. However, if they try anything funny, stay frosty. Over.”

“Roger that General. We’ll be locked, cocked and ready to rock for anything.”

Torian entered his quarters aboard the Storm’s Eye to dress for the occasion. Along with his usual blaster, he strapped a rather large vibroblade to his belt. Doing one final check in the mirror, he walked out and down to the hangar. The hallway was slightly dim, dimming further as the tall, muscular general blocked out the lighting as he passed. One by one, doors to his men’s quarters opened as they fell in line behind their leader. Each one was fully loaded for war. Their demeanor was one of deadly intentions.

TAG: To be continued, same bat channel, same bat time!!!!

 

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Mekran Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra, Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra

LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route


Rocking gently, the Imperial shuttle lighted on the brightly lit hangar deck of the Alliance ship, Storm’s Eye like a rigid moth, it’s wing folding up. They were 9 Imperial officers, including Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra. His close cropped, salt and pepper hair uncovered, his uniform cap, folded and tucked into his belt, and the lapel of his double breasted jacket unbuttoned at the neck, he turned, pistol in hand, from the maylee that had erupted just before the shuttle’s ramp lowered. Now, they were 5, surrounded by 4 various heaps of arms, legs, torsos, and heads.

Malkovich quickly holstered his weapon and signaled for the other 5 officers to do the same. Looking over his shoulder about the brightly lit hangar, they faced a fully armed squad of hard-face warriors, at their head, a giant of a man stood, one hip slightly higher than the other, face holding a pair of eyes that could stare down death itself.

“General Torian Darkeyes, I presume,” said Malkovich in a half-query, his drawl giving his greeting a sort of vague insulting tone, even as he snapped a salute and introduced himself in that same tone, but formally. “Please excuse our mess! We had a rather unfortunate disagreement on our way over,” he said waving to the open lambda tri-wing. The other Imperial officers began to put themselves together, straightening their jackets and filing out while a pair of stormtroopers began to clear the cabin of the 4 dead officers, setting them to one side. “Heck of a way to introduce ourselves,” continued the Captain as he walked forward toward Torian and then stopped 3 meters in front of the Alliance leader. Malkovich’s eyes noted the slightly alarmed Commander Buro, to whom he nodded, a comely female standing next to the Commander. A faint smile spread across Malkovich’s tired face as he returned his gaze to General Darkeyes.



TAG: @ ominous, @ Kalio_Dynkos

 

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Mekran Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra, Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra

LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route

As tall as he was, he had to look somewhat down at the Imperial Captain. His men maintained their intense stare at their newly arrived guests. The General noticed the slightly insulting tone of the Captain. He wasn’t surprised, he was used to their elitist attitude towards the Galaxy. He let it pass and inquired about the four dead bodies. “What sort of disagreement did you have?” His hand went behind his back to signal his men to stay frosty. Two of his men moved about. One took a step closer to Captain Galen, to make sure that if anything happened, he would step in and protect her. The other moved behind Buro. The Imperial commander tensed up as he heard the faint clanking of metal fall behind him.

He pulled his hand out from behind his back, empty and open. A sign that he was not attempting anything stupid. Stepping closer to the Imperial and towering over him, he furrowed his brow as he spoke again. “We’re not going to have any trouble are we Captain?” His voice was deep and intimidating. There was a certain aura around the General. He knew it and sensed it anytime he was around people that didn't know him well. He looked serious and mean. Most would gaze wide-eyed and would nod at him, almost as if they were saying, Hey! No trouble here.

He was close enough to the Imperial, that if he had to grab him by the throat, it was a small step forward. Galen remained silent and let the General lead.

TAG: Pash, K_D

 

~OOC~ This post was some time in the making. Special thanks to @Adalia-Durron and @pashatemur for your feedback and letting me know that it all connects and makes sense in a clear and concise manner.

~IC~ Lieutenant Commander Karyn Faro, Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo
Location: ISD Chimaera - en route to Coruscant

Lieutenant Commander Faro continued to the Grand Admiral’s chamber, the latest report in hand regarding a convoy incident. There was a lot going on as the Chimaera journeyed to Coruscant. She heard a remark that Ruhk had not been seen for some time. Some were taking bets as to when he will pop out of nowhere and surprise them. Not all the crew were aware of the Noghri’s mission to oversee the passengers they had collected from the ISD Relentless before they had departed Naboo. The Naboo... as Pellaeon had recently remarked, was a pain in the rear end. Not exactly that phrasing he would use, but the meaning was clear. There was some situation happening in which she hoped Dorja was up to the task in handling. Of course he is. Why else would Thrawn hand pick him?

As the doors to Thrawn’s chamber opened, she saw the blue holographic displays arranged around the Admiral’s chair. As she stepped inside, she recognised the content. One panel contained entries from the Union Ambassador’s journal that were scanned by the archives team shortly after acquisition. The other a medical report on what remained of Juno Eclipse... feed from the Judicator and Stormhawk investigations at the Arissa’s Field and adjoining Obligon nebula... flight data from the fighters of Panthera Squadron and transcriptions of the pilots statements with keywords highlighted. The events over the last several days had been... interesting, to say the least. Friction between the Naboo and the Union, to the extent that the Naboo Queen publicly broadcasted the Union Representative as a Force user, exposing him to a hunting frenzy of Imperial Captains thwarting protocols and intervening in the Grand Admiral’s jurisdiction. The matter went so far awry that the transgressing Imperials resorted to firing upon vessels of Thrawn’s Seventh Fleet to claim another ‘Jedi Head’.

Of course, the traitorous actions had failed, and the Representative was retrieved by the Relentless and transferred to the Chimaera under the guise of supplies. However, it brought to the fore a pirate threat near their R&D vessel positioned between the Arrissa’s Field and Obligon Nebula... and the Naboo, growing restless, almost belligerent, all while the Galactic Government undergoes a change of leadership.

What would that mean to the Grand Admiral and the Seventh Fleet? There are many who dislike the Chiss Admiral and if Palpatine had really fallen, the illusion of having Palpatine’s favour will be dispelled and not deter those who feel bold or foolish enough to take Thrawn off the board. Faro wonder how long that will be and no doubt whoever does so will be in for an awakening.

Faro stepped closer. One quadrant of the tactical display was more dominant. It showed the telemetry of the Imperial forces around Naboo. Three of the four Imperial Star Destroyers and some of the support vessels had already been there a few days prior at the request of the Naboo for protection against, at the time, inbound Union Warships. Since then the Relentless had replaced the Chimaera’s position and Captain Verus brought the VSD Formidable and his flotilla of support ships to reinforce the system. They currently surround the world and positioned as a protective barrier against threats inbound... and out. It was only until the Chimaera left that the Governor of Naboo incited panic of its citizens and claimed the protecting Imperial forces in orbit as a hostile force to compromise their own defence. Madness! Captain Dorja was of sound judgement to have jammed all communications of the planet and the assets and operations the Naboo have on their surrounding moons.

Behind the holographic displays she recognised the glowing pair of red eyes belonging to the blue skinned Grand Admiral.

“Yes, Commander?” A measured voice broke the silence.

“Admiral, I have received word from the Bormea Sector group regarding the convoy passing through the convergence of the Hydrian Way and the Perlemian Trade routes. There has still been no direct contact from the vessels as they are still within a heavily radiated region save for a fragmented message from the Acclamator Assault ship, Rilbek. Because of this contact, the Sector group feels confident that the convoy is safe, only delayed.”

“Delays are not unheard of, though they are several hours behind schedule. Did they send over the message and point of origin?”

Faro nodded as she prepared the playback of the transmission.

It was mostly garbled. Few words were picked up. “Rendezvous point”, “safely”, “Captain Wilform.”

Faro noticed Thrawn’s eyes narrow at the mention of the Captain’s name. The rest was fragmented that any possible combinations could be interpreted from the broken words.

After the playback. Thrawn inclined his head a fraction. “Play that back again.”

Faro did as instructed, pausing and repeated elements on demand.

“There are minor inflections in the tone... stresses. Have the analysts go over and see if they can clean up the interference and glean any further information from it.” Thrawn paused, his eyes glanced to the console. “It might also be wise to have one of the transports prepared for departure and the crew on standby.”

“You expect there to be trouble, sir.” Faro stated. It was no question. There was a faint shudder as she felt the Star Destroyer had exited hyperspace. She knew there will be a few moments before they will jump again.

“The war might be declared over, yet pockets of resistance are out there. If no registered contact from the convoy by our next waypoint, it won’t hinder anyone to send a small team to observe what the delay is and lend a hand if the situation requires.”

“Understood, sir.” Faro answered. She suspected that the convoy had more than pique the Grand Admiral’s interest. Something flashing up caught her eye.

The holographic map of the Naboo System refreshed, several points of contact appeared at the fringe. Behind the display, she notice Thrawn was watching her.

“Observations, Commander?”

Was this another test? “If these were civilian or commercial traffic, they would be arriving at the standard emergence vectors. These are beyond those frequent parameters.”

Thrawn nodded. Indicators showed a wing of TIEs broke from their patrol path to investigate.

“Dorja’s TIEs are wasting their fuel investigating... unless to provoke a response.”

The arrivals turned and soon winked out before the TIEs could get near. “What would you have done differently?” Thrawn asked.

Faro studied the map. “Do we have the vectors of the previous ships?”

A few moments later, lines appeared showing the arrival points logged from the previous inbound vessels. Known commercial and civilian traffic were faded. Faro studied thoughtfully. These unidentified ships were clustered at four main locations at the system’s edge with a random scattering of a few.

“Since we don’t have an Interdictor in system at the moment, I would have placed some smaller hyperdrive enabled crafts at the edge of the system. Positioned further back from those vectors these intruders are arriving. If the Defenders could be used, they would be perfect to jump close, possibly capture one of them.” Faro said.

Thrawn gave a subtle nod. “The Defenders are capable of disabling and capturing though the first productions aren’t ready for field testing just yet. A shame to have exposed the prototypes loaned to Panthera squadron in the way they had done. At least the flight data showed that the crafts were drawing on too much energy for the size and weight. Something to improve on the Defender project.”

“The prototypes are still on board the Relentless... Captain Dorja could have his pilots use them.” Faro suggested.

“He is aware... and of their capabilities.”

Faro paused. This was a test. Why weren’t Dorja using them? She looked again at the vectors... The unknown ships were arriving closer to Naboo... they were probing? The TIEs Dorja sent... they were to give a false indication to the intruders.

“Dorja doesn’t want to reveal his hand just yet... they are kept in reserve.” Faro spoke her thoughts.

The Grand Admiral smiled. “Very good. If they deem to be hostile and act, they will be lured in with a false sense of security.”

Faro nodded. The display indicated that the TIEs had returned to their patrol path. “I’ll inform Major Carvia to arrange a team to be on standby for departure for the Bormea sector.”

“Very good. Let me know of any developments.”

“Yes, sir.” Faro answered. As she started to turn, another set of contacts appeared on the map at one of the vector posts. There was a delay before a different set of TIEs deviated from their patrol, albeit the reaction time was noticeably slower. She could tell that the same dance will be played out again. Faro saluted smartly and left for her duties.

TAG: To Be Continued. (Tagging @Kalio_Dynkos, @Ominous and @pashatemur as elements relate to the events at the Bormea Sector.)

 

IC: ISB Agent Fouche (under the assumed name Mr. Ringali)
KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector


Brentaal IV was, as the name suggests, the fourth planet in orbit around the star Brenta in the Brentaal System. The intersection of the Perlemian Trade Route and Hydian Way made this area highly trafficked. Because of the influx, the planet had long ago been overrun by travelers, and not intending to be anything like other weigh port planets that were inundated with outside crime and influence, Brentaal IV had installed a number of planetary defense platforms and stations that doubled as orbital docking ports. Not that Brentaal was at all inhospitable, but centuries of commerce had taught them the value of keeping transient customers away. It also had the unexpected outcome of bringing the criminal elements into the skies above where said transient customers were easier pickings.

About a dozen or so XQ2 Platforms presently orbited the Core World below. Most were privately owned but under the supervision of the planetary government. Each provided the benefits of security, defense, entertainment, repair, and commerce. Dueling corporate entities controlled various facets of the operation.

Fouche found himself aboard one such station, presently under observation in the med-bay. The optical implant he’d received days before was still painful but operating. It gave him a slight headache as his brain tried to make sense of the HUD that would show up randomly. He hadn’t quite figured it out yet. Of course, the headache could also be from his new frenemy, the young Sollustan named Jalen.

In the soft hum of the med-bay’s instruments, Fouche tapped at a locker that held surgical tools and medicine that he’d seen Dr. Walki deposit items into.

*****

Meanwhile, in the command deck of the KIT Prime Station, the radar techs had detected the entrance of the small battered Imperial Force and accompanying ships at the edge of space. Since they’d entered, the slicer at the computer had been actively jamming transponders and communications requests from the assorted other XQ2 stations in orbit. Effectively, their signals were sent out, bounced across a few dozen relays, and then sent into the Ringali Nebula to be unanswered.

It was crude, but it had served the KIT Prime station well in the past to get priority customers to “notice” them first by drowning out the competition. Every once and a while, the unique properties of the nebula would bounce back a couple of comms to other stations, in which case the jig was up. But, for now, any craft coming into the edge of the system as this rag-tag fleet had would simply receive a whole lot of static, dead space and then…as if by magic, breaking from the buzz a clear crisp voice of the KIT Prime Station asking to be of assistance.

The tech passed comms information off to the communications room.

******

In a darkened comms room, lit only by the displays and controls before the small crew, sat two humanoid men - one sipping his cafe, the other hunched over the HUD.

“Hey, uh,” he trailed off as contacts popped on the screen one after another. “Four…five…uh…ships incoming.”

The other, a Sullustan, took another sip of his caf.

“Run the transponders, son,” he said simply.

Tiny, diminutive yet nimble hands flicked switched bringing up each ship on the display.

“Imper—,” the operator coughed. “Imperial. Two Nebulon B Frigates…and looks like.”

The boy paused to check other readings.

“Various support craft…and a Dreadnaught-class, unknown affiliation. Broadcasting as the Storm’s Eye, three, no four CR90 Corvettes —“

“Hail ‘em, kiddo,” said the Sullustan and took another sip of his caf.

Not hours ago, the KIT Prime Station had repelled a small force that was attacking a ship here in the system. And now an Imperial force was jumping in the system, noticeably roughed up, but arriving just the same.

The young ops controller stood to press the comm activation button and leaned into the mic.

“KIT Prime Station to incoming Imperial force, we welcome you,” he said, putting on his best imitation of a commanding tone. “Please state your presence in system.”

“Offer hospitality…”

“If you’re in need of repairs or refreshment, we have available…uh…supply ships that we can dispatch for your service…fuel, maintenance…”

He trailed off again. What else was he supposed to say?

The Sullustan reached up next to him and slowly depressed a red button on the console.

“Oh, right. Right,” the kid said off-mic. “Repeat, this is KIT Prime Station to Imperial Vessel. Please state the nature of your visit in system.”

******

Alarms sounded in the hall, giving Fouche pause for a moment. Had he tripped an alarm? Not likely. The lock had been undone for a few moments now. Still, Fouche quickly pocketed a couple of bacta packs, a surgical knife, and a data disk that had been in the Doctor’s locker. No sign of his weapons, or his own knife that had downloaded the Navigational information from the Cargo Ship Modesta. They had said The Colonel had it. He’d hoped it was a lie.

The alarms were a steady klaxon complete with those nifty red lights spin but gave no real indication what the point of them had been.

Fouche closed the locker softly, heard the lock re-engage with a beep then returned to his seat on the bed and closed his eyes.

TAG: @pashatemur @Ominous @Corellian_Outrider

 

OCC: Thanks due to Omi. I have quoted Torian Darkeyes in this post.

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Mekran Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra, Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra

LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route


The rebel General walked forward, a deliberate gate that telegraphed the tall man’s wary but confident assumption that the unseen action aboard the Imperial shuttle signaled the need for a weapons-ready stance and sure enough, the advancing General stopped before Malkovich to ask without an attempt to hide the coiled challenge in his voice.

“What sort of disagreement did you have?” Then, the giant rebel leader put his hand slowly behind him and Malkovich, hearing the sudden clatter of the stormtrooper detail in the shuttle readying to act, put his hand up slowly, as well, signaling his men, officers and troopers to ‘stay’ their stance.

A quick glance away from Darkeyes and Malkovich saw Commander Buro tense as two rebel soldiers took up position behind and between him and the female officer, Captain Galen.

Malkovich swallowed, muscle memory twitching in his digits, as the General slowly brought his hand, palm-up from around his back, revealing it to be empty. Then Darkeyes stepped closer, casting a shadow over Malkovich, the faint quick click and clack from his shuttle saw Malkovich jerk his hand emphatically, again ‘staying’ his Imperial crew. What were they going to do? Fire and go down in a useless blaze of wrongly perceived glory!?

Darkeyes responded to the Imperial presence with a question directed to Captain Malkovich. “We’re not going to have any trouble, are we Captain?” -the challenge now less potential and edging closer to immediate.

Buro quickly shot a glance to his left and down to gauge the shape and scope of possible outcomes to this encounter. Could he turn from his duty? Where must his loyalties lie? What lay ahead, in the next minute, 10 minutes, 27 hours? Could he watch his crew mates gunned down, would he want to survive? He had no weapon and taking a hostage would require -it was insane, they were out-gunned! He didn’t want to take a hostage, particularly not Captain Galen. Besides, the shuttle would never make it out of the Storm’s Eye hangar, even if they could secure themselves inside the Lambda tri wing. As if his thoughts had touched the minds of the officers and troopers in the shuttle, he could see the subtle stilling of breath, to true the target, each surmising as Buro did, the slightest movement and the Imperials were committed to a harsh choice.

Captain Malkovich cleared his throat and addressed General Darkeyes, again, his smooth drawl, belying his nervous concern.

“Negative, General. Our unfortunate event, the aftermath to which you are sadly witness- irreconcilable differences of opinion inspiring a desperate and ill-advised effort to... suppress our detente.” Iljen Malkovich, avoiding the word “mutiny,” blinked and lifted his cleft chin with a twitch and he looked around as the rebels seemed to lean in, weapons at the ready and the white clad armor of his troopers shouldering their weapons more solidly in the crook of their shoulders reflected the bright lighting of the hangar bay, now, oddly quiet.


“I held a preliminary briefing before departing the Zandra and identified those of my officers whose perspectives needed...broadening. I’d hoped that their inclusion in this meeting would prevent them from taking any precipitous action while I was away. I’d also hoped that in participating in this briefing, they might be persuaded from their lamentable and, as it turns out, ultimate choice. We weren’t in a position to negotiate their surrender,” he added, gesturing over his shoulder to the shuttle.


Shading his eyes with a hand, again, his movements slow but slightly tremulous, as he sighed, “I really think, particularly given our recent experience of what we surely must agree is a threat to all, that we should start over, don’t you?”

TAG: @Ominous @Corellian_Outrider @Kalio_Dynkos

 

OOC: Took slight control of your Imperials

IC: Captain Galen of the Storm’s Eye, General Torian Darkeyes, Commanding Officer of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, Imperial Commander Mekran Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra, Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra

LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route

Shading his eyes with a hand, again, his movements slow but slightly tremulous, as he sighed, “I really think, particularly given our recent experience of what we surely must agree is a threat to all, that we should start over, don’t you?”

Torian eased his posture noticeably for all to see. He raised up his massive paw of a hand to signal to his soldiers to stand down. Their weapons relaxed in their grip with the muzzles lowered to the ground. The two behind Buro assumed their prior position, giving the Imperial room to breathe. Captain Galen stepped forward to Torian’s side.

“Agreed, Captain.” He extended his hand out to Malkovich. The Imperial briefly paused and looked down at the General’s extended hand and arm. Scars from past battles marked his forearm along with a fresh wound, no doubt from the recent battle. He could see why this man was supreme commander of Alliance, he has probably seen it all. Then again, this new threat added to the history on the man's arm. Malkovich reached out and firmly grasped the Rebel’s hand. He gave it a good squeeze to show the General that he too was a man of authority. Torian reciprocated the grip. He could feel the bones in the Imperial’s hand move slightly around in his grip. The handshake was released. The tension in the hangar ebbed further. The clanking of Imperial armor echoed as the troopers relaxed their postures.

Galen saluted the Imperial and extended her hand as well as a gesture of goodwill. “Captain Malkovich. Thank you for taking this meeting with us. I know that it is very unorthodox to be meeting with one’s enemy.” Her grip was firm as well, but nowhere near the strength of the General’s.

Malkovich took her hand delicately at first but then realized she was a military officer like him and deserved the same respect he would expect from others. He nodded to her, “I’m sorry for my tone with you earlier when we first met. I’m sure you understand that under the circumstances, I was sure you were a threat to us.” He looked around at the hangar. “I was impressed with your naval strategy during the battle. You would have made an excellent Imperial captain.” He sincerely meant it.

She smiled back at the Imperial. “No harm, no foul. We were a threat to you.” She gave him a quick wink and sly smile. She stepped back to Torian’s side.

Crewmen from the Storm’s Eye, approached carrying a crate awkwardly. They set it down between the General and the Imperial Captain gently and opened the lid. Torian reached down inside and pulled the head of the humanoid out of the container that had attached them. It was badly scarred. The eyes were still wide open. “Here's the threat.” He said as he set it down on the lid of the crate. “If you have any information on what this is, I would greatly appreciate hearing it.” His words sounded curt, but he was sincere. “If there are more of these out there, we are in for one hell of a war.”

Captain Galen’s commlink on her belt began to vibrate. She stepped away from the group to take the call. “What is it?”

A crackle came over the commlink, “Captain, we have picked up an open transmission to the Imperials.”

TAG: Pash, K_D

 

OOC: No problem, Omi! All good and thank you for moving us along

IC: Imperial Commander Mekran Buro of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra, Commander and Captain Iljen Malkovich of the Imperial Frigate, Zandra
LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route

Mekran exhaled as the General and Captains Malkovich and Galen exchanged hand shakes. Come to think of it, there was a collective ‘unclenching’ around the whole of the Storm's Eye hangar! However, no sooner had everyone lowered weapons than the cargo box holding the alien bodies was brought forward and the fearsome head of one of large humanoid aliens, was uncrated, General Darkeyes reaching in and setting it on top of the lid, it’s bulging and purple sacked-eyes still staring madness and daggers!

“...If you have any information on what this is, I would greatly appreciate hearing it. If there are more of these out there, we are in for one hell of a war.” said the Big Man.

Malkovich, about to speak, waited as Captain Galen received a comm and excused herself a small distance to take the call. Iljen nodded politely as she stepped away. Then moving to inspect the head, Malkovich, brow knit, regarded the alien with detachment and spoke as he moved from one side to the other, chin resting on his upturned thumb, arms at his chest and spoke.

“Captain Wilform tried to convey some information from the bridge of the Hidden Dagger, but there was a good deal of radio interference. Apparently, there were to his knowledge, at least 2 such aliens aboard his ISD as soon as at Muunilist, one of which was put down by the Executor...the Emperor, himself. They made some preliminary observations and a quick autopsy of the body, but that body is lost with the Hidden Dagger. Wilform sent his second in command, Lt. Kos with a data disc containing their findings, preliminary observations, and a recording of the rough autopsy of the alien body. If Wilform conveyed more, we’ll have to have our communications recording cleaned up to get any much else out of it. However, if Senior Lieutenant Kos is amongst the rescued from Dagger, then we should have that disc-”

Commander Buro cleared his throat and joined the General and Captain Malkovich, having waited for the Captain to recognize his subordinate, but stepping up to answer Malkovich’s inferred question. “Ah, Commander,” said Malkovich with a expression of restraint on his face, but concern evident in his posture.

While the data disc was burning a hole in Mekran’s pocket, he discretely slipped his hand under his uniform’s closed lapel and removed it. Saluting and clicking his heels, Buro said, ”Excuse the interruption, General, Captain, Lt. Kos is among the rescued. He’s in the med-bay,” said Mekran quickly, “He gave me this encrypted data disc from Captain Wilform and said it must be delivered to Lord Vader, without delay. The Captain said Lord ...I mean His Majesty would be expecting it, that the Emperor had asked the Captain for the information on the alien His Majesty had vanquished before leaving for the front at Kalee, Captain, Sir.” Buro presented the disc forthwith and Malkovich took it and held it up for a moment before closing his hand about the small but important object.

“Thank you, Commander Buro. That certainly adds more fuel to our fire, and it might just be a helpful mechanism for all of us to survive this ordeal,” he said looking keenly to General Darkeyes. He did not add, ... at least, long enough to deliver this data.

TAG: @Ominous @Kalio_Dynkos @Corellian_Outrider

 

~IC~ Lieutenant Commander Karyn Faro
Location: ISD Chimaera - en route to Coruscant

Faro arrived back at the bridge. Pellaeon had been summoned to Thrawn’s chamber and the command transitioned to her. She noted the estimated time for their arrival at Coruscant and smiled. The Chimaera’s navigators have managed to save them an hour and a half with the constant refinements of their travel path to the Core Worlds. The view outside of the command deck showed a nebulous star field. It was beautiful though rarely could she allow such moments take her focus away from the duties aboard the starship. The helm announced a count down before they were to be leaving the region.

As she made her routinely check of the command crew, Lieutenant Garston arrived. He stood to attention and saluted smartly to her. Before she could speak, he handed her a note. She arched an eyebrow before reading it. It was from the analyst going over the communications. Already they had gleamed a detail from the recording. The word ‘attack’.

It could mean anything out of context. Yet, the word was significant enough to be brought to her attention. She considered what the Grand Admiral might do and did not hesitate.

“Inform Major Carvia to get his team to the transport immediately, his schedule has moved up. They can get ready on the transport. They have three minutes.”

Garston left to contact Carvia while Faro strode back to comms. She informed the Hangar crew of the immediate departure. Of course they would not be pleased with the rushed schedule though they knew the drill by now; expect the unexpected.

She returned to the helm, preparing herself to delay the Chimaera’s departure. She watched the countdown tick down. Should she delay the jump, would the team make it?

“Thirty seconds...”

She hoped she had not overstepped her authority based on one word out of context, information was important though she knew what would happen if she did not take the initiative to act. Thrawn already suspected something had happened in the Bormea.

Eyes were on her.

“Fifteen.... ten.”

“Transport is clear”

She let out a small sigh. The counter reached zero.

The deck shuddered as the star field collapsed into millions of bright streaks before transitioning into the realm of hyperspace.

They had not delayed the Chimaera’s departure, however, will the team she had sent be ill-equipped for the unknowns that await them? The best case scenario was the convoy was fine and forced to detour because of some cosmic event. The worse case... the convoy is no more and she had sent the team to their deaths.

“I best inform the Admiral of this development.” Faro said to Senior Lieutenant Lamar.

He gave her a look that read as ‘good luck’.

She made her way back to the Admiral’s chamber. Going over what had happened. She felt that she had done the right thing, yet maybe there was something she had missed? It was best to report it immediately so it could be corrected. The doors opened to her and she found Thrawn in a holo conference with Captain Dorja and one other she did not recognised. Thrawn’s gaze shifted to her then directed to Pellaeon. She nodded and made her way to where the Captain stood, just out of range of the conference. She whispered to him what had happened and he nodded.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander...” Pellaeon whispered. “Just wait a moment. We are in talks with Naboo Defence Minister Nacluv.”

TAG: @pashatemur, indirect tag for @Kalio_Dynkos and @Ominous as elements relate to the events at the Bormea Sector.

 

IC: General Torian Darkeyes, Captain Galen
LOCATION: proximate to the KIT Prime Station, XQ2 Platform, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector Imperial near the confluence of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route

Malkovich finished his statement about the new threat and how the Imperials had already had a run-in with this new dangerous alien species. He also heard the words Emperor, Lord and His Majesty used by the Imperials. The Storm’s Eye and her fleet had been away for a while and there hadn’t been any communication with the Rebel base about any changes within the Imperial structure.

Captain Galen out of earshot of the Imperials chimed back to the bridge, “Play it for me.”

Repeat, this is KIT Prime Station to Imperial Vessel. Please state the nature of your visit in system.

She raised the commlink back to her lips, “Find out what you can about KIT Prime. Let’s make sure we are in friendly territory or we’re going to have to jump somewhere else.” She paused, “Have the Imperials responded yet?”

No Ma’am came the reply from the bridge.

Torian watched Buro hand over the disc, and gave him a small glare. You could have shared that with us Commander.

The General turned back to Malkovich, “I suggest we look at the disc. I would like to know what you all have found out.” He wasn’t really suggesting at all. He patted Buro on the back, his large hand squeezing his trap.

Galen shut down her commlink and rejoined the General and Imperials. “Forgive me Captain Malkovich, the KIT Prime Station has picked up your ships and is hailing your bridge.”

She motioned to the hall that went back to the bridge. “If you please, we can have you take the call on our Bridge.”

TAG: @Pash @Kalio_Dynkos @Corellian_Outrider