SWRPF Archive The Galaxy at War Part III: Schism of the Sith

OOC: Sorry for OOC'ing again and my severe apologies for not posting, Uni has been oh so very hectic. I shall have a post up in about another week or so, when my courseowrk will be all done.

Thank you for your patience, and again, apologies for the delays.

 

OOC: Thank you to pashatemur for the more intelligent and literary parts, desribing Anakin, di Toli (not a ragu sauce, apparently), and the salon.

Captain Stan Switek, the Ursean destroyer Executor
Location: Waypoint Alpha


"Captain, Switek," queried the large Ursean aide de camp, exiting Lord Vader's stateroom. He was a neat man, in his crisp Imperial uniform, once the bearer of red hair, the thinning vestiges of which were close shaven and now mostly grey. "Lord Vader attends his Imperial Highness, but will see you now," di Toli announced by way of a discrete "heads up," cleared his throat and gestured to the smoothly opening doors.
Beyond was a large low lit and spare room appointed with several low divans of a dark synthleather beyond which could be seen a dark masked figure and the young Executor who looked up at the doors' opening hiss.

The door?s hiss reminded the Wraithis flight officer of a particularly vicious serpent from his homeworld.

"I'll await you here, should you need my assistance."

?I feel better already,? Switek muttered under his breath, as he considered the idea of being in the same room as His Imperial Majesty.
What was the proper protocol for the addressing the Supreme Ruler of the Galaxy? A bow? Dropping to one?s knees? Certainly not, ?Aiiight!?

Switek threw his shoulders back and steeled himself. He reminded himself that his own commander had been appointed by Vader personally, to lead this fleet. And he himself was a graduate of Carida, for space? sake. It would not do for this Ursean to sense his fear.

?Thank you. I should not be long.?

Switek straightened his TIE pilot?s uniform and strode into the stateroom, not like he owned the place, but like he?d at least put down a deposit.

He stopped three steps from the still opening doorway, and deferred first to the Emperor, giving a deep bow, his eyes to the deck, before straightening to salute the Executor. ?Your Imperial Highness. My Lord.?

A glare produced a halo about the Executor as he strode forward, his much touted hair feathered about his head, his clothes still besotted with the blood of the rogue, his features obscured till he moved beyond the brilliant cast of light reflected from the giant bristling and laser pocked "egg" looming outside the set of three nearly floor to ceiling viewports that lined the outside wall of the stateroom.
Reaching the middle of the room, Vader searched the figure of Switek for a moment, his dark blue eyes intense and fierce.

"Captain Switek? What brings you," asked Vader without preamble, youth and weariness no barrier to his keenness.

Direct and to the point. The officer liked that. This was tempered by the face and clothing covered in blood, but you couldn?t have everything.

He brought up a matt-black holo-disc, and held it in his hand, palm-up. ?My Lord, I bring a message from Captain Perrinaw.?

His orders had involved the words, ?Eyes Only?, but there was no way he was asking the Emperor, mask or no, to give them a moment.
That insult was way beyond his pay-scale.

Stan thumbed the on-switch, and a seven inch-high image of Perrinaw sitting at a desk sprang up, showing his arms resting on the surface.
The voice was of better quality than the flickering, translucent blue-grey image.

?Lord Vader, my apologies for this unsolicited offer, but my Chief Analyst, whilst monitoring the state of Onslaught Fleet, believes she has detected a pattern strongly suggesting that you are trying to return your illustrious guest, the Royal Queen of Naboo, to her homeworld. Since we obviously do not want her endangered at our destination, I have tasked Captain Switek here-?

Stan resisted the urge to wave.

?-with escorting her and her retinue, should you so wish. Your servant, Perrinaw.?

The image di

 

OOC: Many thanks to work with you Argen on this joint-post, always a joy



IC: Boba Fett and Jabba The Hutt
Tatooine - Jabba's Palace


Boba Fett stood there in silence, thinking hard.

For the first time in years, the bounty hunter was in a quandary, torn between his duty, his need for extra credits, and his own personal desires.

Jabba's offer was tempting in many ways. Boba Fett's ship, Slave I, had recently been damaged in an asteroid field, and Fett needed some rather expensive repairs to get the weapons systems back up to full capability.

On the other hand, he'd been looking forward to bringing down Aurra Sing after the Aargau incident. Boba Fett couldn't allow that Jedi Hunter to get the best of him and live.....

On the other hand, just last week, his other employer had contacted Boba Fett in an interstellar holo-communication, and told him that he was no longer willing to pay top credits for Sing. Instead, he wanted a priority live delivery bounty on a man, Lando Calrissian. He'd raised the amount, too. The bounty hunter on him was twenty-five thousand credits. And the private employer had reduced the bounty on Sing to ten thousand credits, disintegration now permitted.

Twenty-five thousand credits was the biggest bounty currently on Boba Fett's list. He'd immediately begun searching for this man name Calrissian, whom his employer had described as being a gambler. The private employer said he was the one responsible for the scandal that occurred on Socorro.

Fett had checked his sources, and traced the man to Corellia , then to one of the Inner Rim sectors, but then he'd dropped out of sight completely.

There was one possible lead linking him to the Smuggler's Run, but that was an unconfirmed rumor at this point.

But.........Fett hated the thought of not bringing in Sing to face a humiliating, painful end at the hands of his employer. Fett had tortured captives, when necessary, to obtain information. He didn't take pleasure in it---or in their deaths, when that was what the bounty required.

But for Aurra Sing, he was willing to make an exception.......

<<<<Well, what is your answer, Mandalorian? I don?t have all day to chew the fat! >>>>> Jabba interjected impatiently, eager to get the Bounty Hunter going. The quicker the better, as far a he was concerned. The sooner his vengeance upon the Jedi was had and Aurra stood before him, a prisoner, the better.

Startling Fett out of his reflections. Boba Fett thought fast, and finally arrived at a solution that was, he felt, the best under the circumstances. It allowed him to maintain his integrity as a bounty hunter, while also allowing him to do the practical thing.

"Very well," he said. "I'll take the fifty-thousand."

His private employer wants me to pursue Calrissian as a priority anyway, he told himself, so I'll be fulfilling the client's wish. And the bounty on Sing is fifty thousand, so when I've brought her in, I'll send back his twenty-five, then hunt and capture Calrissian. Honor is satisfied, I'll have fulfilled my commissions, and gotten the chance to see Sing punished.

It was a good compromise, Fett decided. Everyone except his private employer would be pleased.

Simple and profitable. Fett was satisfied.

<<<<<Ho, ho, ho, ho,>>>>>>>Jabba chuckled, pleased at the response.

<<<I knew you were a smart one, Fett.>>> he continued, the evident pleasure oozing out of every word.

<<<I would offer you a local spirit for good luck, but I?m sure you would refuse, so I bid you farewell, Boba Fett,>>> he furthered as he looked at the bounty hunter up and down, scanning the body armor that covered his form from head to toe. He had never even seen the visage of his father in all the years of employing the infamous bounty hunter

 

OOC: Im just reposting my CS and previous posts and will have a new post up soon. Its good to be back and play among you again.

X-T-M




Name: Captain. Ysera Alexstrasza (Callsign - Dreamer)
--Age: 27
---Gender: Female
----Species: Ursean
-----Eye Color: Viridian Green
------Hair Color and Style: Pony-tail with red-streaks on sandy blonde hair.
-------Skin Complexion: Olive-Tanned
--------Clothing: Is a streamlined version of the USF, long coats, high collar, fitted, with pleated vents, waistcoats, breeches, high boots. With Silver blue coat, cream breeches, grey waistcoat, white tunic and black tie. And she has her archeology gear of clothing as well when on expeditions or on ground with the Ursean colours.
---------Physique: Curvaceous, yet slender and athletic.
----------Personality: Commanding, collective and thoughtful and takes pride in her crew.
-----------Quirks: She is also a archaeologist when she has spare time loves to learn about different cultures history. And retrieving lost artifacts to better understand on a cultures history and preserving them.
------------Force Sensitive: Yes



[image=http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a330/MASTER-OF-EVIL/Halikarnasss.jpg]


Personal Ship
-Name: Halikarnassós
--Class: Kuat Drive Yards Procurator-class Star Battlecruiser
----Interior Description: Has seen better days, blue interior with silver lining showcasing the Ursean Colours
-----Weapon Systems:
-10 Quad Turbolaser Batteries
--9 Double Turbolaser Batteries
---10 Laser Cannons
----6 Heavy Concussion Missile Launchers
-----4 Medium Concussion Missile Launchers
-------Hyperspace Capability: equipped with a limited hyperdrive which caused it to make stops if going on a long journey.
--------Misc. Specs.: By the time the Clone Wars began, Procurator-class Star Battlecruisers formed part of the sectorial defense fleet of Kuat Sector, which is famed for its heavy naval shipbuilding. The Procurator was only equipped with a limited hyperdrive, which prevented it from long distance, transgalactic travel. A Procurator's reactor was large enough to be visible from outside the hull, protruding with a ventral bulb, similar to that of the Imperial-class Star Destroyers. The class was larger than contemporary Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers

After the Battle of Rendili, Kuat sectorial fleet Procurators became part of the Republic Navy, as all home fleets were forced to become part of the greater Republic military, in a centralization effort spearheaded by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.


-Brief History: Ysera Alexstrasza is part of the royal family of the Federov's is the cousin to Reina. Her history is very mild, just an ordinary person in an extraordinary Galaxy, forging her life.
--Military History: Served with the Ursean Defence Force and achieved outstanding achievements that propelled her through the ranks until she was given her own command. And does what she thinks is right for the protection of the Ursean Empire.
---Traumatic Experiences: When she recovered an ancient artifact from the planet of Krayiss II when her hand was caught in a hand trap when she grabbed hold of the scrolls in the obsidian case, acid rained down on her arm, knowing that there was trap hidden, as it was their key to escape the underground temple. And her friend Professor Xim P.Traza built her an artificial arm afterwards.





IC: Captain Ysera Alexstrasza and her surviving crew members
Wild Space - Flagship Halikarnassós

Wild Space.

Space as far as the eye could see. Space potted with millions upon millions of pinpoints of light that were distant stars, planets and other such celestial bodies. A violent, unseen storm of cosmic rays and racing spacedust filled the vast sea of dark, but it remained unseen so all was regarded as pea

 

IC:truthsayer sister Alia

on-board "Executor"

Happiness is a delusion of the weak.

The same whisper in her head that kept coming and coming when less expected or wanted. Sometimes she hated being a Bene Gesserit despite it opened her the door to Lawson.

An open mind is like a fortress with its gate unbarred and unguarded...

Something was amiss, she was not certain what. She felt the emotions of the people in the surrounding decks. Some where excited, others were afraid, some were confused, others proud. They were directed towards something outside. Maybe a new craft? She had to check it out.

A narrow view sees better...

All were quotations of ancient Gesserit sayings, some were true, some not. She knew better not to question them unless she wanted to charged of heresy and in the best case executed. Alia closed her journal and put it aside then stood up. Her black and gray neophyte robes swirled.

Leaving her cabin she didn't pay attention to her guards, they did not radiate emotions and thus they were not interesting for her. She walked through the corridor without knowing where she was going. She only knew there must be a large viewport so that she could take a look. Her instincts were leading her.

"Ah there is one..." she came to it. All she saw was the Imperial fleet, she frowned then turned her head slightly and for her shock she saw the source of the crew's awe. A large planetoid was there, it was no moon...it was a space station (OOC: ).

Alia was pale from the shock, she had realized that if the Union was to wage war with the Empire it will definitely loose. The future was getting even darker and more disturbing than she expected. She touched the transparisteel, her indigo eyes were flashing. Her feet were getting weak, but she managed to look as if nothing has happened.

Fear is the mindkiller...

TAG:Anyone on the "Executor"

 

IC: Captain Perrinaw, Captain Madine, Chief Analyst Sidell, Pit Lieutenant Pauletti, the Wraithis VicStar and Onslaught Fleet command ship.
Location: Waypoint Alpha

By the front ports, rounded triangles of transparisteel that gave a panoramic view of the gathered fleet, Perrinaw used the reflection to comb out and pat down his trademark abbreviated afro, and then turned to the missus.

She was grinning, the gap in her front teeth catching his eye and melting his heart.

?What?? He asked her, smiling back.

?Just how comfortable you look. How easily you have slipped into the role and responsibility for all their? she gestured out the window, ?lives.?

?Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Any news from StaN and Captain Switek??
He referred to two of the three Wraithis personnel sent across to Lord Skywalker?s ship to offer to take the Naboo queen home safely.
His Analyst had gotten the idea into her pretty little head that that was what all the shenanigans with the Hidden Dagger were all about.

?Not yet. Pauletti will sing out if he hears something.?

?Right.?

The doors at the back of the bridge opening cast a splay of light across Sara?s cheek, and both looked in that direction to see Madine striding towards them.

?Is your strike team assembled?? Perrinaw enquired without preamble.

?Your Monster Squad are resting; you run them pretty hard. They?ll be awake and getting ready an hour before we reach the destination.?

?We know where that is yet??

Madine frowned, ?What do you mean??

?The team got briefed for an assault on Kalee, with an agro terrain, and primitives for opponents, ostensibly to take down the Death Star?s shield generator, and yet, the campaign plan has the battle station orbiting the planet Mygeeto, which is industrialised, and will require the sort of tactical incursion that we aren?t prepped for. When we arrive, and its Mygeeto, we can?t just send the three shuttles in whilst engaging the CIS starfleet, can we? We?ll have to take the Wraithis down into the atmosphere to drop the team in, and perhaps draw a couple of ImpStars to cover us, which will drain firepower from the orbital fight. If we'd had the correct information, we could have transferred the strike team to a Venator, but now its too late. We will have to make the best of it.?

?Uh, captain.? Unseen from this angle, Pauletti?s disembodied voice rose from the crew pits several metres back from the windows. ?Gravitic fluctuations indicate large incoming. Long range sensors confirm. Possible Code Ochre??

Perrinaw absorbed the report. "Raise shields. Yellow alert."

?Sir.? Subdued horizontal glowbars set into the walls at the height of a skirting board?s rim started flashing yellow slowly, drawing your gaze to the fact that alert status had been kicked up a gear.

That was one of Grand Admiral Thrawn?s more far-fetched tactical codes: Ochre ? enemy battlegroup jumping into the middle of your fleet. He and Sara had had a good laugh reading that one, he recalled.
He wasn?t laughing now.

?Advise the fleet.?

?As ordered. Object arriving in five, four, three-?

As one, Perrinaw, Madine and Sidell turned to look out the windows as a planet materialised at velocity over them, and decelerated to stop in the middle of the fleet.

Perrinaw?s jaw dropped. ?I sure hope that's ours.?

Sidell all but clapped her hands at the sight. ?Its ours alright. Codename: Killing Moon.? She raised her voice to call to the Pit Lieutenant: ?Aron? Interrogate the intruder?s telesponder, please.?

?That?s no moon; that?s a space station.? Madine put in, finally able to speak. (OOC: high-fives the Admiral. )

?Grante

 

March 2, 08
Queen Amidala II & party
The Naboo suite,
Lord Vader?s ship, The Executor

Amidala?s back was to the viewport, hands upon her hips, as she spoke to her handmaidens, Aja & Bianca.

She would NOT think of the children! Sabe reasoned months ago when captured, she must bury deep within, her most secret thoughts and knowledge. She must never, never ponder, never recall those precious little ones or her fledging group and those involved. To think of them would be to betray them!

She had taken a dangerous risk to help ?HIM ? her old friend. She had given him what she had written and the original of Sidious?s memoirs. Sabe hoped Vanepp had been able to make contact with her group and was safe.

In her months of captivity Sabe had filled her days with walks, reading the volumes supplied to her by Sly Moore and writing. She deliberately limited her contact with the Ursean court, fearful a Force sensitive could detect a single random thought ? or worse, Anakin would read her thoughts in an unguarded moment!

Sabe wondered if through the bond they shared if Anakin HAD ever caught something she had so buried . When she was with Anakin, Sabe dedicated all her attention to him. Sometimes, he still reminded Sabe of that little boy from Tatooine, so very long ago, who was longing for his mother and yet excited about the new life he was beginning.


Anakin had come a very long way from the life of a slave on Tatooine He wanted so much then ? and still today as a man wanted and craved so much more.

Sabe?s thoughts turned to the present and herself. She would soon be free and home once more, therefore this close to her freedom, she could not slip.

All thoughts of Naboo came to an abrupt end as the room was bathed in a greyish light.

?Madam!? cried a startled Bianca pointing to the viewing window. Red haired Bianca,whose voice was usually filled with humor and wit,was now frightened by what she saw, and her call to the queen was filled with dread.

Amidala turned and stood aghast as the large window was filled with an egg shaped monstrosity!
Mesmerized, the three women drew nearer to the port, their faces bathed in a greyish cast.

?What in the names of all those who are holy is that thing?? whispered Aja.

Sabe wanted to say it reminded her of the jeweled eggs the Ferro gave each other on their life days. Instead , staring out at the overwhelming presence she solemnly pronounced, ?It?s a battle station.?

In the understatement of the century. Bianca remarked that it was too big for a battle station- the power it must consume!

?When one is creating an empire and wishing to maintain it, one has to think big. Imagine the fire power..? Sabe shivered.? This is not good!The firepower of such a battle station would equal that of?perhaps all of the fleet assembled!?

What was Palpatine and Anakin planning?

?My ladies, I have a very bad feeling about this-? momentarily the queen directed her attention to the two standing beside her. ?One, what we see is a weapon of terror, a weapon of mass destruction, designed to make Palpatine THE power of this galaxy.

Two, as civilians, non-coms, we would normally not be seeing something this top secret?I don?t know how this will effect our return to Naboo.? Sabe turned once more, a worried look upon her face as she studied the 'thing' the evil of war had created. ?What I do not understand is why this fleet has assembled here, surely the station does not- oh my!!?

Alarmed Sabe stood back ?We are now in a war zone!?

OOC: Admiral, working on reply to your post. Thank you for your patience!

 

IC: Captain Ysera Alexstrasza
Hyperspace - Flagship Halikarnassós


Captain Alexstrasza sat down for the first time with a sigh of relief but only for a moment as they finally escaped their adversaries once more. But then her relief turned to determination as the situation has changed a great deal since this expedition began. She didn't feel safe enough in hyperspace not until she enter Ursean space, only then she would let out a sigh of relief knowing her mission has been completed.

She looked around the bridge and eying her members that survived this five year ordeal or was it six now, she wasn't sure anymore. Its been too long to think on niche matters such as time.

Seven of the Nine were indeed soldiers.

Crack troops. Special forces. All from different planets.

The remaining two members were civilians, the elder of whom was a long-bearded 65-year old professor named Professor Xim P.Traza, call-sign: Magus.

The seven military members of the team had somewhat fiercer nicknames: Dreamer, Warlock, Arrow, Black Maria, Saint, Torero and Liquidator.

A faint smile appeared on her face as she looked at each of them and remembered their first time together when they began their expedition on that Force-Forsaken planet......


Second Year: Day Three: The Voyage of the Albatross....


The Nine kept charging through the swamp on the south side of the mountain, heads bent into the rain, feet pounding through the mud. They ran like soldiers---low and fast, with balance and purpose, ducking under branches, hurdling bogs, always staying in single file.

In their hands, they held guns: LJ-50s, DC-17m ICWSs, DXR-6s. In their thigh holsters were pistols of every kind.

On their backs: packs of various sizes, all bristling with ropes, climbing gear and odd-looking steel struts.

And above them, soaring gracefully over the treetops, was a small shape, a bird of some sort.

The mountain they were approaching was the last in a long spur of peaks that ended near the border of the two tribes that occupied this planet the Nagai and the Tofs. Down through these mountains, flowing out of Tof's territory and into the Nagai border, poured the Beregna River. Its waters paused briefly in this swamp before continuing on into the Nagai territory where they would ultimately join the Elin River.

The chief resident of the swamp was Crocodylus elioticus, the notorious Elin crocodile. Reaching sizes of up to 6 meters, the Elin crocodile is known for its great size, its brazen cunning, and its ferocity of attack. It is the most man-eating crocodillian in the galaxy, killing upwards of 600 people every year.

While the Nine were approaching the mountain from the south, their USC rivals had set up a base of operations on the northern side, a base that looked like a veritable floating city.

Command boats, mess boats, barracks-boats and gunboats, the small fleet was connected by a network of floating bridges and all were facing toward the focal point of their operation: the massive coffer dam that they had built against the northern flank of the mountain.

It was, one had to admit, an engineering masterpiece: a 100-metre-long, 40-foot-high curved retaining dam that held back the waters of the swamp to reveal a square stone doorway carved into the base of the mountain 40 feet below the waterline.

The artistry on the stone doorway was extraordinary.

Sith hieroglyphs covered every square inch of its frame---but taking pride of place in the very centre of the lintel stone that surmounted the doorway was a glyph often found in sithonic tombs in Korriban:

Two figures, bound to a staff bearing the jackal head of Xendor, the unofficial first Dark Lord of the Sith.

This was what the afterlife had in store for grave-robbers---eternal bondage to Xendor. Not a nice way to spend eternity.

The message was clear: do not enter.

The structure inside the mountain was an ancient mine delved during the reign of Xendor, around 24,

 

IC: Nashtah
Location: the Paladin, over Anobis

All she could do was sit in bewildered silence as Master Shuri relayed to her the unfortunate events of the past years ? a time period she didn?t remember, evidently a result of the accident that caused the reddened bump on her head.

As the fellow Jedi communicated her sordid past to her, Nashtah shook her head in disbelief as Emi-to continued to speak without pause, wisely not allowing Nashtah to interject as much as she wanted to.

??.you called yourself Aurra Sing.?

Nashtah sat up straight, almost defensively and began a timid protest which was again wisely ignored ? if the one-time darksider had been allowed to interpolate the facts would have taken hours to impart.

?Emi-to this can?t be true?.surely this is some sort of test,? she avowed her hands now clutching the sides of the bunk she was seated on as tears began to well in her eyes. Yes, a test, she tried to reason to herself ? her knighthood tests approaching this was just one of the trials....

Emi-to continued exposing the past and what had happened ? Nashtah did not want to believe it as she shook her head, tears now streaming down.

Searching her feelings and those of Master Shuri, the Force was indeed telling her that everything that was being communicated was true!

?No, no?.this is impossible,? she mumbled under her breath as the subjects of the fall of the Jedi Temple and the Republic were told to her quickly, seemingly better to tear the proverbial band-aid in one quick pull rather than prolong the pain.

Now clenching her teeth, she began to sob quietly as both her own guilt and the sorrow she felt for the fall of her much beloved Order and the Republic which it guarded touched her inmost being. A Sith and an Emperor? The two words sounded like some evil fairytale she would read as a youngling in the Temple ? stories meant to ward off temptations to those who would seek the darkside??

?No ? Master Kuro ? no!? she exclaimed with more sobs as the passing of her dearly loved Master was relayed to her, the tears now streaming down her face and tasting the bitter saltiness in her mouth she began to wail.

?The Temple ? violated and the Order dispersed?! I turned to a dark-side? The Republic fallen?? she asked with obvious sorrow. ?Am I then a prisoner then,? she asked amidst the weeping, barely being able to be understood.

She came to the realization why she was wearing the coveralls ? they were made for those who had committed crimes and she was a criminal; she mused as her very body began to shake from emotion.

Choking on tears, she thought it very un-Jedi like to have such an outburst of emotion and having trained in the order for most of her life, almost as an instinct she turned to one side and her upper body bending down, she buried her face in the neatly folded coveralls that lay on her bunk.

To Hades with what a Jedi should act like, she thought to herself, she was a human being with feelings and at being relayed such traumatic news, as Emi-to herself inferred, it was normal for a human to react thusly, so for a few minutes of her life, by the Force, she was going to allow herself just to be a human!

There, she continued to blubber, a little guilty at allowing herself such a luxury ? however, the guilt at having been told that she had betrayed the order and turned to the darkside overwhelming the other.

The only thing that held any hope in her was that she was imagining all this ? it was a dream or perhaps she was insane! Yes, better insane than a vile darksider! In a million lifetimes she could not imagine herself turning on the Jedi?.

As her muffled cries still continued, a word of hope came:

?The robes of a Jedi Padawan are yours to wear, Nashtah, if you wish it.?

Nashtah, suddenly quieted down and lifted her head slightly ? the folded vestment now drenched in tears, she turned back to Emi-to in her still prostrate position and spoke, sniffling, as she tried blotting her tears with the sleeves of the coveralls she was wearing:

 

IC: Quinlan Vos
Location: Ursean Bird of Prey/ Mortis Stellarus/ Unknown Space


In the ever-quiet vaccuum, there was a slight shiver in the Force.
Like a scent of familiarity that drifts on the edge of a slight breeze. He sought to follow it back to it's source, but the ripple had left no solid trail, it had been... fractured. In his youth, he might not have noticed, but here in the dead-calm of the great void and no matter how slight, the former Jedi Master had noticed. But it was nothing more than a ripple, and given the times, vos thought little of it. Sensing nothing further, he drew in a deep breathe and toggled the map reader. Nothing had changed since he checked less than an hour ago, and he already knew they were all... at the ready. He didn't need a computer to tell him what the Force prevailed upon his senses. It wouldn't be long now, he just knew it. So he closed his eyes to play-out their siege one last time in his head.

The 'ol Kiffu grinned to himself...
When the word comes down, all Mustafar is gonna break loose.
"Heh Hehh Hehhh..."

TAG: Open

 

OOC: For the cause of expediency, I will be using Tarkin for this post as I need to get things underway.

IC: Grand Moff Tarkin and Commander Jerjerrod
Location: Boarding the Killing Moon . Waypoint Alpha

The white moth-like shuttle settled as it folded its wing stabilizers up into their locked position.

A troop of bone-white stormtroopers sporting the new Maw style stormtrooper armor lined the path that Tarkin would walk.

He exited the shuttle alone and briskly walked the distance to the turbolift. His welcomer was Commander Jerjerrod, bowed neatly at the neck at the coming of his superior. Admiral Motti had been left in charge of Chimera.

"Greetings, your Eminence. Killing Moon stands ready for your command, Sir." The young Jerjerrod reported.

Tarkin ran a glance over the datapad he was handed by Jerjerrod and nodded approvingly.

"Excellent, Commander. Killing Moon's operations are exceeding expectations. Our little test at Mon Calamari does not seem to have rattled her in the least. Very good! The Emperor himself has commissioned me with Command of this Fleet. You have reviewed our Battle Plan?" Tarkin asked as the Turbolift whispered away to the Forebridge.

"Yes, Sir. It is nothing less than...brilliant!" Jerjerrod said with no sense of obsequiousness. He was genuinely turned on by the plan.

Tarkin smiled. He appreciated Jerjerrod. One day, perhaps he would succeed Tarkin in service to the Emperor...should the younger live so long.

The dark interior of the Killing Moon's Forebridge was vast and multileveled. A vast dome, ringed by gangways. Everywhere, lights as numerous and as multicolored as the stars in the sky winked and blinked in a neverending shimmer.

Up a central tower was a platform that faced a vast triangular viewscreen that showed telemetry of every ship in the fleet.

This, then, would be Tarkin's command center.

Up to the Command Platform did Tarkin and Jerjerrod go.

An all points hail was signaled under triple encryption to all ships in the fleet. The signal was sent with Hightest Priority.

The giant triangular viewscreen lit with sectioned panels showing all ships in the fleet. Tarkin waited for all ship commanders to come online.

Tag: The Imperial Fleet

 

OOC:

For clarification, Killing Moon is not the Death Star. It is not nearly as big or as powerful.

The Superlasers that the Killing Moon sports are only powerful enough to blow up a capital ship...not an entire planet.

Also, Killing moon is only about 50 miles tall and 25 miles wide. Death Star is over twice that in diameter.

 

IC: Master A'Sharad Hett
LOCATION: Mess of the Jedi ship Haven



?The way is clear, the way is not bound by my unmindfulness or that of others. It is as a blade forged in singing harmony with the Force, pure, neither of rapture nor despair!?

?Upon the blade, is the finite and infinite, though neither in shadow, for it has no sides, but crystallized as is my mind upon the focus and by it, I live to wield it and through it, the Force makes itself known, ? intoned A?Sharad Hett taking up se?za position on the floor.

Years of practice in the Temple allowed those species who could observe it the agility and grace to rise and lower themselves into the meditative seated posture, with back held comfortably erect and feet flat against the surface upon which the Jedi adherent sat.

Bowing moderately, the Master unclipped his saber and held it before him with both hands, lifting it to chest level balanced on his open palms and began the mantra all Jedi uttered upon the making of their sabres, Hett knowing the others would intone with him:

?The crystal is the heart of the blade.
The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.
The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.
The Force is the blade of the heart.
All are intertwined:
The crystal, The blade, The Jedi.
You are one.?

?My breath comes as a stream of the Force. Empty are my desires before it, mindful of it?s ebb and flow am I,? he continued guiding the young Kilarn and in consort with Master K?Kruk as to the deep meditation, encouraging the Kiffu in the first and cleansing stage of the meditation.

The room, a public gathering place, a mess hall yielded an open aspect, a view port giving on to the now whirling and ever enfolding flux between densities.

All Jedi would, by the time of their 1st year as a Padawan be acquainted with the meditation, but it would take years of constant practice to learn the way of a Jedi, the way of the Force and to move with it without guided effort! The sabre would float before one, the learner instructed to listen to the ?singing? of the crystals as the looped energy was permitted to flow. Ironically, the organic nature of meditation would also yield the first lessons as to the construction of the sabre by expressing the dynamics of the coagulation of ?cosmic? matter and the focus of light between lense and crystals a practical metaphor for the focus of the mind!

?As a crystal is not light, but a prism, a conduit so is the Jedi a fulcrum for the light, let all fall away but your concentration upon the movement of the Force within your hands?? Now the Jedi would center his concentration upon the meditation object, his sabre?s crystals and enter a receptive stage when all extraneous thought was released and in his hands he would sense the gyrations that soon he would match and then synchronize, careful not to make it a desire, but rather to move in concert with the Force. Most young adherents found that first stage the most difficult. It took patience to release the notion of will and desire, to understand how one could be ?open? to the Force and not ?will? or ?desire? it. For most, the understanding must be remade daily, for it was a ?balance? easily misplace or seemingly lost!

The thought occurred to A?Sharad that Master Shuri would herself be leading some very young Jedi in this same meditation soon. Far away, cut off from each other, the order must survive! Ah! My willfulness, he thought with chagrin and himself reestablished his link to the Force as it flowed through the hilt of his sabre, the gyrations evening as he did so and proceed through the 4 beginning levels till finally, the Sabres rested before them, for the blade was only a pointer, the weapon useless without right mindedness, for it was not the object of a Jedi?s existence.

The warmth which filled each Jedi as he meditated held a color and aura - cobalt and marigold, and each unto himself for a moment was released from the tenuous hold of "particle and wave!"

It was cold in the room, the Master encouraged the y

 

IC: Emi-to Shuri
LOCATION: the Paladin, over Anobis

Colic, teething and rashes, these were ?hurts? to which the Jedi Master had acquainted herself in the last few years caring for her own son. Now she had a grave responsibility, more than simply students to train in her sabre classes, but the governance, as Master Yoda's proxy, of her portion of the Jedi Order. Her training bade her extend a kind and gentle ear, a gesture of her compassion, a manner, yielding and considerate, but nothing prepared her for this outpouring. It was easier to remain aloof when the hurting was from without the order!

Emi pressed her lips one to the other and breathed in deeply as she watched Nashtah struggle with the revelation of her past and of the present situation of the Jedi, struggle against emotion??There is no emotion?.?

To exist in this material plain was to be open to suffering, and yet, Jedi did indeed live removed from that suffering by willing inclination toward an enlightenment. As receivers of some crux of the Force, they were found, cared for and trained to bear mantel of guardian of justice, both emblem and enforcer!

Theirs was not a curriculum that taught compassion for the ?trenches,? thought Emi as she reached a hand to Nashtah, gingerly placing it upon the prodigal Padawan?s shoulder, Emi?s touch growing more confident as she pushed herself from the time learned distant compassion to somewhere appreciably warmer.

?We?we will be Jedi, Nashtah. That is what is to become of us,? said the Master, her voice firm and inspired. ?We are not adrift. We are no less what we were at birth! Our mandate might have been interrupted, but it is still clear. The way of a Jedi is the way of the Force, no matter our ?.? Emi tugged at Nashtah?s overalls, ?clothing.?

There had never been, reminded Emi-to, a promise that either Force sensitivity or assiduous study would ever excerpt a Jedi from hardship. It would not matter, if such was the will of the Force, for suffering was as much illusion as elation! "We are more than this temporary collection of matter."

?I do not promise I understand what happened to you or how you shall return, yet, if you wish it, then I will stand by your return and give you aid as I am able,? continued Emi with a gentle smile blooming on her freckled face. ?If I do not know, then I shall learn, Nashtah! Now, let?s vest you in something more familiar, shall we??

It took several awkward moments for Emi-to to locate the crates the Jedi had had transferred to the Paladin but in short order, a Padawan in the company of an ARR staffer arrived with robes the size Emi had guessed would suit Nashtah.

Standing in the door Emi could be heard thanking both Jedi and crewman before releasing both and asking if the Admiral Ackbar could afford her a brief but informal meeting, Kenobi and Jinn with her. The presence of the Mandolorians being high on her list of concerns and the matter of Nashtah clearly a security and jurisdictional concern better managed on the front end than a wild revelation. The crewman acknowledged that the message would be conveyed post haste and his footsteps could be heard rapidly echoing down the corridor.

?Well, ? here they are Nashtah,? said Master Shuri holding the folded cloak, trousers, tunic, and tabbed kimono, utility belt, boots and leggings out the pale woman in her upturned hand, the other on top. Nodding to the fresher, Emi added, ?I believe the fresher can afford you some privacy if you like.

Emi did wonder what had happened to Nashtah all those years ago. She had been taken, absconded, but what must her life have been like? It was certain that fear and abandonment had been a big part of it, but there had been something else, some indignity. Suddenly, an emotion did catch in her throat, a near sob at some sense of the pain Nashtah had known. Emi cleared her throat and seeing Nashtah hesitate, she stepped forward and took the Padawan?s hand and brought it atop the clothes, ?Go on,? the Master urged quietly, wi

 

OOC: Unworthily beckoned by SSS - our indomitable Mr. Vos - I'm stepping in as a guest writer for the CIS in the Muunilist/Mygeeto subliminal theatre. Many, many months ago friendly SSS invited me to play and it was all too easy to say yes. Little did I know what I'd gotten myself into for I am certainly rusty...incredibly rusty. Therefore, to you writers of GAW, you humble me when I remember just how difficult this all this. I salute you.

Many thanks for SSS dealing with a multitude of questions, PMs that must have annoyed as well as confused as I wrote without any sort of cohesion, and for giving me a plethora of information with which to work with and allowing me to create at least four new characters.

And now, for our sweet and indefatigable Pashatemur, and Vos, a few lines where I try not to fall on my face. Cross your fingers, or at least, please, help me cross mine!

IC:
The Confederacy of Independent Systems - Muunilist and Mygeeto

Dramatis Personae:
Mistress, CIS General/Special Ops overseer
Pors Tonith, InterGalactic Banking Clan Chairman
Dovassull, Trandoshan mercenary commander under the Mistress

IC: Mistress; Chairman Pors Tonith
Ginivex-class starfighter Shadow Tears, Hyperspace; The Great Spire, Harnadian, Muunilist

Miles of leg, toned, deeply-tanned, rose horizontal with the grey, metallic ground. The black fabric that loosely covered the slender appendage listlessly fell to the ground for want of seams to either pants-leg, from the ankle to the hip. Exposed as it was, the leg reached the zenith desired by its owner, pivoted and waited.

Click.

That was it. Stifling a grunt within her throat, the black-clad woman whipped her leg downward and to the left, catching the modified B-1 droid squarely at the waist. It halved, arms to meet feet, as it hurled away to crash into the wall. Her momentum broken by the contact, the woman's slender back arched. The effortless motion, an act of a gymnast, brought her quickly into a horizontal position with the ground and putting her weight still on her right leg.

Whirrr, whizz, Click.

Two chalon blades cut into the air she had previously breathed. From the speed of her own motion, the woman, the black-clad Mistress, thrust her left arm above her head. Metal struck metal as she met the droid's blade. With superhuman speed, the droid brought its other arm around to decapitate the Mistress, but she had already begun her motion anew. Pulling hard at the wrist she'd caught, the woman hurled the droid to the ground as she used its stance to vault her over it.

At first the arm bucked, then gave in as it pivoted in its socket and she, with both legs in the air, arched over the droid to land behind it. Keeping her hold, the droid kept coming, first scraping its head on the floor, then over the Mistress and to the ground in front her, smashed to pieces, rocking her arm with the force.

A smirk was likely noticeable on her features as he savoured her quick victory over the one droid. Still holding its wrist with her left hand, she adjusted her large utility belt that hung about her hips. Shapely legs there were, yes, but the fabric's enticing lack of side-seams only continued in the outfit, from the belt to where the long sleeves of both her arms began. A tight band of fabric tied at an "empire waist," her upper torso was hugged by the dark fabric up her slender neck and the base of her skull, where a cowl loosely covered her head.

Time for celebration was short as the first modified battle droid hacked both sword-arms down above her head, intent on slicing from ear to ear. Reflexively, the Mistress raised the droid arm, and body, she still held in her left arm. Putting it above her head, the three blades collided with a rocking force. Mistress absorbed the crushing impact, sinking to the ground on her left leg, still throbbing from the first strike she'd made. The droid pushed hard, using its leverage and the Mistress us

 

IC: Admiral Ackbar
Location: the Paladin, over Anobis

It had already been a while since the Alliance shuttle had made its way inside the Mandalorian cruiser the Calamarian thought to himself. Well, it seemed like a while anyway. In such moments of tenseness, the seconds seemed to drag ever so slowly.

As he made his way into the bridge area accompanied by a two man escort, he walked briskly, his hands behind his back, hands clasped. As he noted the officer guarding the entrance to the bridge recognize him, salute and without hesitation had the large blast proof doors opened with a swoosh.

The Admiral nodded back a thank you, returned the salute and proceeded inside ? he had much on his mind. The Jedi were safely aboard, however - how truly safe they all were was the question at hand as three Mandalorian cruisers remained, poised very near the Paladin, menacing in their very proximity and in the suddenness of their arrival there.

The Alliance ships had taken defensive positions, the Liberty, the other MC-80 cruiser that was in accompaniment of the small fleet the ARR had brought to Ryloth, had now begun to inch closer, and now it was settling in a position somewhat in between the Paladin and two of the Mandalorian cruisers, serving almost as a buffer should the Mandalorians go back on their word and order an attack.

However, the targeting systems were on stand by; no need to make the Mandalorians jumpy.

Of course, the shields were up and at full power and the officers manning the batteries and guns were on full alert at their respective stations. In fact, the entire crew of the fleet was at the ready ? even the doctors and nurses of the medical staff who were on break had been called to attention should there be the need. The Jedi arrival and their needs were small in comparison to what could happen if a heated battle should commence.

Vigorously taking his position near the bridge windows he queried the able First Officer:

?Commander Obayqwon, status report on the situation with the Mandalorians??

The fellow Calamarian, looked up from her terminal and saluting the Admiral relayed everything she knew, which at the moment was not much:

?Nothing new, sir. General Darkeyes and his team made landfall inside the Mandalorian cruiser but has since maintained radio silence. There has been no further communication from the Mandalorians,? she asserted with a nod.

?Oh, our sensors show no suspicious aggressive actions having been taken, either,? she finished as she toggled back to the appropriate screen to confirm what she was saying.

?Hmmm?.,? Admiral Ackbar began as he put a hand to his chin and began to rub it.

?I guess there?s nothing to do but wait and make sure that the Jedi are attended to, for the meantime.?

Another officer came traipsing toward the Admiral and walking up to his side, saluted him, thereby requesting his attention:

?Yes, what is it officer?? he queried with a salute in reply. Admiral Ackbar wondered how he didn?t get carpal tunnel syndrome from all the saluting.

The officer replied succinctly but in a very hushed, almost menacing tone:

?Sir, one of the Jedi aboard?.a Padawan Nashtah?.we have reason to believe she may be considered a hostile. Not sure how she came aboard with the Jedi but they are aware of her presence, however, whether or not they are aware of the danger, we don?t know.?

Moving a step closer, he brought a datapad up for the Admiral to view:

?Images taken from the ground on Ryloth show she was in fact involved in a lightsaber duel with another Jedi, who just so happens to be on board this very ship and was in fact leading the potential hostile around,? he finished with a apprehensive tone.

"It is a possibility that she is a wanted bounty hunter, all the way from the days of the Republic although the image data files from those sets retrieved were corrupted so we can't be sure...."

Admiral Ackbar quickly looked at the datapad images but only for a split second and then looking up spoke:

?Yes, yes, Captain

 

OOC: So very good to see you KD! Welcome back!!

 

IC: Captain Ysera Alexstrasza
Unknown Planet


Second Year: Day Three: The Voyage of the Albatross....


But there was a second entrance to the mine, a lesser-known one, on the south side of the mountain.

It was a back door, the endpoint of a slipway that had been used to dispose of waste during the original digging of the mine. It too had been reconfigured.

It was this entrance that the Nine were seeking.

Guided by the tall white-bearded Magus---who held in one hand a very ancient scroll, and in the other a very modern sonic-resonance imager---they stopped abruptly on a mud-mound about 80 metres from the base of the mountain. It was shaded by four bending lotus trees.

"Here!" the old fellow called, seeing something on the mound.

"Oh dear. The village boys did find it."

In the middle of the muddy dome, sunken into it, was a tiny square hole, barely wide enough for a man to fit into. Stinking brown mud lined its edges.

You'd never see it if you weren't looking for it, but it just so happened that this hole was exactly what Professor Xim P.Traza was searching for.

He read quickly from his scroll:

'In the Nagai swamp to the south of Retos's mine,
Among Kebos's minions,
Find the four symbols of the Lower Kingdom.
Therein lies the portal to the harder route.'

Traza looked up at his companions. "Four lotus trees: the lotus was the symbol of the Lower Kingdom. Kebos's minions are crocodiles, since Kebos was the Sithese crocodile god. In a swamp to the south of Retos's mine---Retos being the other name for Petohmi I. This is it."

A small wicker basket lay askew next to the muddy hole---the kind of basket used by rural Nagai's.

"Those stupid, stupid boys." Magus kicked the basket away.

On their way here, the Nine had passed through a small village.

The villagers claimed that only a few days ago, lured by the USC's interest inthe mountain, four of their young men had gone exploring in the swamp. One of them had returned to the village saying the other three had disappeared down a hole in the ground and not come out again.

At this point, the leader of the Nine stepped forward, peered down into the hole.

The rest of the team waited for her to speak.

Not a lot was known about the leader of this group. Indeed, her past was veiled in mystery. What was known was this:

Her name was Alextrasza---Ysera Alexstrasza.

Call-sign: Dreamer

At 27, she had the rare distinction of being both military and university trained---she had once been a member of the most elite special forces unit in the galaxy, while at another time, she had studied ancient history at Neo College in Coruscant under Xim Traza.

Indeed, in the Pre-Clone War period, when the Republic had ranked the best soldiers in the galaxy, only one in the top ten had not been a Republican: Ysera Alexstrasza. She'd come in at No.4.

But then, around in the years after the embargo incident, Alexstrasza disappeared off the galactic radar. Just like that. She was not seen at galactic exercises or on mission again---It was assumed she had quit the military, cashed in her points and retired.

Nothing was seen or heard of her for over 10 years.....

.......until now.

Now, she had re-emerged.

Supremely fit, she had dark hair and laser-sharp green-eyes that seemed perpetually narrowed. Apparently, she had a winning smile, but that was something rarely seen.

Today, like the rest of her team, she wore a decidingly non-military uniform: a rugged caramel-coloured canvas jacket, tattered cargo pants and steel-soled Salomon hiking boots that bore the scars of many previous adventures.

Her hands were gloved, but if you looked closely at the left cuff of her jacket, you might catch a glimpse of silver steel. Hidden under the sleeve, her entire left forearm and hand were artificial, mechanical. How they came to be that way not many people knew; although one of those who did was Xim Traza.

Expertly trained in the

 

OOC: I am overwhelmed, SSS, KD, Argen, LDU, Omi, Sithy, MOE, Xavierri,MoO/LZM, NLYAF, MOLP, DGS - all of you. I want to thank you all for the grand work and prose. Yet, SSS and KD, you really surprised me! I am dumbfounded! Welcome back Xy! Thank you, everyone for making this thread such fun!

IC: NRC comm. officer aboard the HIMS Executor as well as the Captain (whose name escapes me at the moment but I'll find it, dammit!), Jan di Toli, aid to Lord Vader, Lord Vader
LOCATION: Waypoint Alpha


Change frequency!!!! Change frequency!!!

The console lit up under furious digital movement like a tree on Life Day and the Lieutenant bit back the urge, though not the tone, to say, ?Yeah, what do you want!?? as he took yet another call from the rattled fleets with the appearance of the newly minted battle station that decanted in shocking surprise in the midst of the greatest Armada ever assembled in the known history of the Galaxy!

Instead he took Huntress?s call with efficient if bitten tone and quickly relayed the query on to command, where upon after a minute of bouncing around, Mr. di Toli took receipt of it with a whistle and a sigh, ?Alrighty,? he said under his breath, turning about to find the nearest computer terminal, ?Let?s see how the transfer is going!?

Captain Wilform had objected vehemently, the matter referred to Admiral Thrawn and as expected, made mute by Lord Vader?s veto. The ship was lost, as the Re had put it, the core and all auxiliary systems corrupted, yet the destination coordinates still contained within the infested system, the commands still buried with the mutating worm that reinitiated with each system flush. Ferrying the crew of the Hidden Dagger, reassigned and dispersed about the fleets, even to the USF had an hour ago been completed, but the tech crew were still working to retrieve through security filters designed to prevent any transference of the virus to Executor.

?We need another hour??

Di Toli cut the man off, ?I doubt you?ll have it! I?ll convey your problem to Lord Vader?I?ve no idea what he wants it for?? said di Toli dryly in answer to the query that came of frustration from the other end.

The Ursean aid quickly began to put a message together to comm. to his Re, the Executor. He would have to resort to a code silver, though he was loathe to do so, it was not an option to which di Toli often resorted, but the fleets were in high alert and ready to jump. The matter warranted ? he stopped and returned to the waiting technical chief.

?Chief, you will have to finish,? he looked down at his chrono and continued, ?you have fifteen minutes. Suggest you secure your gear. I expect Executor will need to take over and slave the ship.

Jan pursed his lips and strode quickly back to Lord Vader?s staterooms.

***

How was his life a matter open to extrapersonal consideration?! He stared at the dissipating blue of Perrinaw?s fading image and then, hands on hips turned to be confronted by the expressionless black mask Sidious had donned and looked back to the pilot who waited in silence, still holding the small holo-transponder.

Yes, Sabe needed to return to Naboo, if for no other reason than not to distract him, but there were other more compelling reasons, not the least of which involved relations between Ursa and Naboo? and more, more that would matter in the future.

?Yes? my ?? said Anakin turning away and gesturing loosely while he muttered, ?commendations to Perrinaw, BUT?? he turned back to the pilot, ?As your superior has deduced, the Queen seems to attract calamity of late! I expect your report in full as to her safe arrival,? said Anakin with half a salute, ?See my??

The doors parted to admit Jan di Toli who bowed curtly, ?My lord,??

??aid,? finished Vader nodding toward the anticipated aid. ?He will alert and have the Queen and her retinue escorted to your ship.?

?Yes, my Lord,? said di Toli to the indirect order and then interjected in deference, ?My Lord, the technical

 

OOC: SithStarSlayer, Kalio', welcome back, guys!


IC: Captain Perrinaw, Pit Lieutenant Aron Pauletti, Chief Analyst Sara Sidell, the bridge, Wraithis
Location: Waypoint Alpha

Still by the panoramic view afforded by the bridge windows, even if that was mostly of the Killing Moon now, Perrinaw had requested confirmations from Onslaught Fleet that they had synchronised their supralight navigation systems to the Executor, and had asked his 2-in-C to read off the ships and types as they responded.

This was to help the fleet commander get present in his head, the makeup of Onslaught.

?Confirmation from The Melissa. VenStar guarding your asteroid tugs.? Aron relayed from the pits. The communications area was fully manned, both up here and on the auxilary bridge, deep inside the Wraithis hull, eight workers altogether. Normally, a single ComScan operator was enough.

Perrinaw recalled the ?asteroid tugs?. One of Sidell?s ideas to beat the CIS? extraordinarily resilient Ravager-class capital ships, was to bring and drop an asteroid directly onto one at a fraction of lightspeed, and upon seeing four Taskforce Fubar escort vessels, freed up after their charge got MIA?d at Ryloth, had cherry picked them for this mission.

ISD-IIs Sokolova and Harsh Times had come in with asteroids clutched in their tractor beams, with The Melissa guarding them. The Killing Moon?s presence probably meant he didn?t need them now, but he could hardly drop two uncharted asteroids here as a surprise navigational hazard!

?Right,? he answered, ?as soon as my ?tugs? drop their payloads, they and The Melissa are to protect Wraithis.?

?Yes, Captain. Confirmation in from Huntress. And from Timeslip.?

Perrinaw frowned, turning from the windows towards his second. ?Can?t say I?m familiar with that last one.?

?Uh, Nebulon-B frigate, captain. Secondary zone close support.?

?Assign her to protect Huntress.?

?Yes,sir. Hang on, high priority incoming.?

Biddley-iddley-beep.

?I?ll take it at the chair.?

?Aye-aye, sir.?

Leaving Sidell and Madine, Perrinaw quickly strode to his command chair, turning and dropped into the padding, opening the message, which he quickly relayed to them: ?Signal from Killing Moon. Oh. Grand Moff Tarkin is assuming control .?

?WHAT?! Under whose authority??

?The Emperor?s.? He was surprised at Sidell?s outburst, although he understood the reasoning behind it. She was constantly campaigning and manoeuvring on the quiet to raise his profile beyond what a back-from-Rim-Patrol captain had any right to expect.

?This was your shot. Lord Vader gave you this force.? He looked on as she balled her fists and scowled. ?You and Captain Vectis?.?

Perrinaw saw what he needed to do, and sprang out of his chair, pulling her into his arms and hugging her so that his chin could rest on the top of her head, flaxen black hair flattened over his chest. Her shoulders, initially tense and uncompromising, slowly relaxed.
?Shush now. There there. Think about it sensibly, Sara. When that monster gets its freak on, it can do as much damage to us as to the enemy, so it makes practical sense for Tarkin to coordinate the battle.?

He felt her smile, and kissed the top of her head as she rejoined, ?'Get its freak on'? I love it when you talk tactical.?

?Pauletti. Signal our compliance, and advise all ships that we have ceded command control to Killing Moon.?

?Yes sir.?

Tag: Killing Moon, Onslaught Fleet

---

[b]IC: Captain Iillor[/b], the bridge, [i]Huntress[/i] interdictor.
[color=red]Location: Waypoi

 

IC: Nashtah
Location: the Paladin, over Anobis

A more calm and serene Nashtah, made so by the soothing and comforting words of Master Shuri continued reciting the well known Jedi Mantra that Emi-to had begun as the fellow female Jedi negotiated the retrieval of what Nashtah deduced were going to be her new Jedi vestments and quickly attended to other business:

?There is no emotion, there is peace.?

Now sitting cross legged on her bunk, the words, when meditated upon almost had a hypnotizing effect, as they were repeated over and over again. Nashtah found herself in calm place, free from fear, free from pain. Even the soreness from the bump on her head was forgotten until Emi-to brought her back to the here and now:

?Well, ? here they are Nashtah,? said Master Shuri as she held the vestment aloft for Nashtah to take. ?I believe the fresher can afford you some privacy if you like,? she finished with a gesture toward the adjacent room.

Nashtah nodded with a smile, eager to slip into what she thought was the familiar attire. Though she couldn?t remember the last time she hadn?t worn the traditional Jedi vestments, however, as she had been apprised that she had been away from the order for some time up until recently, she realized she had in fact not worn them in a long while.

?Thank you, Master,? she said with controlled zest, not wanting to betray truly how anxious she was to get back into the routine she did remember albeit now it would be away from the Temple and without the guidance of Master Kuro.

The realization that her former Master was now one with the force, caused her smile to melt away slightly but as Master Yoda always taught, rather than bemoan the loss, she would be happy at her Master?s union with the Force.

Taking the rather weighty bulk of the vestments from Master Shuri, she turned and headed for the nearby fresher, using the Force to activate the door control as her hands were occupied with the load.

As the door swooshed open she went inside and not a few seconds later, after the built in sensor made sure she was no longer in the path of the door, it swooshed close behind her. She carefully placed the garments on a flat surface near the fresher?s sink and quickly began removing the coveralls. As she slipped one side off her shoulders, her gaze caught the nearby mirror which caused Nashtah to stop where she was.

Letting go of the coverall as one sleeve hung down free from the arm, she moved her face closer to the mirror and gasped at the sight ? indeed she looked nothing like she had remembered herself! Gone was the youthful, fresh padawan and instead before her was a tired, pallid looking visage ? the brightness dissipated.

Nashtah?s desire to cry welled in her eyes ? the past years of dissolution must have been hard on her, certainly, and it showed on her face!

Nashtah, shook her head once more ? no, she would not travel down this road once again ? it was vanity and as a Jedi she was above such things.

She happily noted that she recognized her eyes ? they had not changed ? the brightness in them lingered still!

Turning her back to the mirror, she continued removing her coveralls until it was completely off. Crumpling the remains into a ball, she tossed it into a nearby trash chute and made her way towards where the neatly folded Jedi wear sat. Bringing her nose down to take of their smell, she inhaled them. The freshness, the familiarity of the smell caused her head to tingle in delight! Oh, how she loved even the smell of the familiar garments! If only she knew how long it had truly been?.

First taking the trousers from the pile, she carefully slipped them on, savoring every moment of sheer delight it produced. The Jedi trousers were soft and pliable but strong; literally the height of clothing technology perfected over thousands of years of use by the Jedi. They were even wrinkle resistant, she thought to herself contentedly as she looked at them on her ? they fit like a glove, nary a wrinkle or bulge anywhere!

Smiling from ear to ear, she

 

OOC: Sithy, I neglected to tag Huntress and her Captain in my post above yours. It is obvious that it escaped your notice, and in part due to my lack of a tag for the involved ship and character. I did, however, have a tag for your other character Captain Switek, which if you'd read my post, might have helped in the matter. Pardon the ommission and


TAG: Huntress and her Captain - see above post from Vader and Executor.

 

Confederacy of Independent Systems - Mygeeto/Muunilist

Dramatis Personae
Mistress, CIS General/Special Ops overseer
Pors Tonith InterGalactic Banking Clan Chairman
Dovassull, Trandoshan mercenary commander under the Mistress
Marikus Brooth, CIS Lt., Falleen Tree Battle Group Commander
MS-012, Tri-fighter

IC: Dovassull, Pors Tonith, Marikus Brooth, MS-012
Eastern Hemisphere Mountains, Muunilist; Harnaidan, Muunilst; Space above Muunilist; Mygeeto

"So, then I thrust my blade into its chest, my...ah," Dovassull paused a moment in his ascent to grab clumsily at a nearby protruding root. "....cut straight into the beast. It was so surprised it..."

The aged Trandoshan - having lived 49-years and very nearly a "venerable" position by his acquisition - pulled himself up under the roots' resistance, holding back a grunt as his body fought against him. His dark green, scaly skin was caked with mud, soot from the smokers of Muunilist and rocks of various minute sizes held to his skin as if it were paper.

"Perhaps we should rest. We have traveled far," came a voice from above him in Basic.

Yes, he had a companion on this journey and not merely talking with himself. He may be older, but he was not senile. Grumpy, aching, and tired, yes, but not without a mind - nor the power - to make the young hunter that stood above him believe any of the above were true. Without making another sound, Dovassull pulled himself up to his impressive 1.8 meter height. His razor sharp claws flexed at his side as he drew in a deep breath, noticing the wheeze that accompanied it.

"I am not tired," he puffed, his voice much more raspy and his growls filled with more air than power, speaking in their native language. "You are merely in a hurry, Grosskuurrr."

Dovassull shifted the weight of the long sack on his shoulders.

"And, young man, you've missed your objective," he added, leveling both of his orange eyes with black pupils on the youth.

Grosskuurr was only a "youth" by Dovassull's standards. Most Trandoshans did not live over 50 years and 15 years was the attainment of "adulthood." Grosskuurr was 29, nearing middle-age.

"I merely passed it that you might find it," the younger replied, turning his short snout into what could be described as a smile, baring his teeth.

"Hrumph," Dovassull replied and kicked the dirt with his clawed foot.

He liked the fellow hunter. He was young, spirited and dedicated - all the things he had been when he was his age.

"Now, as I was saying, before you interrupted me," he growled back. "The blade cut deep, but I did not account for the amount of flesh. My blade was engulfed by its fat right up to the hit so that I had not choice but to grab at it."

Dovassull motioned his clawed hand before him, mimicking his action to grab the chest of his long dead victim.

"With my hand held firmly over his heart, my blade ripping blood from his system and over my hands, I watched - and felt - the life go out him. Without a sound, and only a shudder, the beast fell to the ground as I let him. He died as I let him. But," he said pointing with his finger, "I did not account for his weapon. As I tossed the hulk to the ground, the hairy beast's blaster was activated and took me in the knee."

"Is that why you're so slow," joked Grosskuurr.

"Listen here. Listen here, I'm trying to tell you something! Fight as you may, live as you might, the Scorekeeper is not benevolent," he breathed at last. "Even from things dead, a good warrior can be bitten."

"Who said it was? I only know how I must live my life."

"Yes, how, but why? That's the question I put to you. Why?"

Grosskuurr met the aged warrior's face.

"Perhaps we've gone too far today," he said, taking a step closer.

"We haven't gone far enough," Dovassull yelled. "Live, Grosskuurr. Live! And let the Scorekeeper be damned."

"You say this, condemning the deity, and yet you yourself stand an accomplished follower," he

 

IC: ComScan Operator (npc), Captain Iillor, Tactical, the Huntress Interdictor heavy cruiser.
Location: Waypoint Alpha

The voice of the ComScan operator rose an octave, presumably the bearer of good news for the change.
?Copy that, Executor. Thank you. Good luck in the battle.? The man swivelled away from his console and looked over to where his captain was still conversing with the guy at Tactical.
?Ma?am, we have permission to disengage our hold on Hidden Dagger. Executor is ready to slave her.?

Such was her pent up tension, Iillor let go an uncharacteristic high-pitched squeal of excitement and clapped her hands.
?Yes! You know what to do.? This was addressed to Tactical, a catch-all area related to the gravity well projectors, shields, weapons; anything, in fact, to do with ship-to-ship operations.

?Yes, Ma?am.? The controller moved a hand to the sliding controls that regulated the strength of gravitic waves put out by the G7-x projectors, and pulled the final of the four back towards him.
?Powering down Number Four. Offline.?

Iillor cocked her head, listening with all her senses, and relaxed, satisfied.

She crossed back to her chair, sat back down with legs crossed, one knee almost forming a leaning A, it sat on it?s sister so high. She keyed the intra-ship broadcast:

?This is the Captain. We stand ready to take part in the biggest space assault in recorded history, to finish off the Separatist menace.
You are the finest crew that I have had the honour of serving with, and we go into battle knowing that we representing Moff Hadrian and Corellia.
You can see by the alert screens that we are at Brown Alert. Until I say otherwise, treat this as Yellow Alert. All gunners and all TIE crews into defensive positions. Your duties to protect us from starfighter attack at our destination. The frigate The Melissa will run interference if anything bigger shows an interest in us.
See you on the other side.?

She pressed a finger to cut the public address, and sat back into her chair, arms crossed. She did not relax.

?All we can do now, is wait.?

Tag: all at Waypoint Alpha