For the first time in a long while, the Squadron Commander of Jexxel could be seen smiling. Everything that had been going so wrong had taken a turn for the better and now, even though they were heading into a battle that would no doubt cost more lives, Makenna felt more at peace. She sighed and set down the datapad that had notified her she had a reserve pilot added to the roster. Crossing her arms behind her head, the woman leaned back, closing her eyes as she listened to the music she had playing in her office. The sound of the symphonic metal was soothing to her, but she always refrained from playing it in front of others. Thankfully she had the pleasure of being alone right then. The major roster details had been sorted, and the Jexxel pilots were resting up for the oncoming battle. No doubt they were pondering their orders.

As she thought back on the orders, she remembered the briefing that had gone so smoothly.

“Listen up, Jexxel,” Makenna said as she walked into the briefing room she had told them to report to. The 11 pilots all snapped to attention as their SCO glided through their ranks and to the front of the room, “At ease,” Maroy joined Makenna up at the front of the room. The Twi’lek seemed to acknowledge some bruising around the SC’s face, but ‘Kenna returned a look that told her XO she was fine.

“As you may have heard from the rumors circulating the ship, we are indeed making a move on the Corellians. Specifically we have information that they are to attack the Nusiuu Docks. We cannot let those ships get destroyed or taken. That’s where we come in. Jexxel Squadron is going to be one of many squadrons lying in wait for the Corellians’ imminent attack. We will fly down to the shipyard and power down our fighters to look as if they are just in storage. Then, when they least expect it, we spring the trap.

“Our first priority is defense. Keep those ships from getting destroyed or taken at all costs. The second priority is to destroy as many of the enemy as we can. Any questions?” Her eyes slid over the pilots before her and then rested on Tamran who was smiling warmly. It took a deep breath to help keep her cheeks from flushing as she realized that this was the first real time she had given a briefing. And it was going well.

“All right. Now I want you to all be aware that I am changing your roster assignments. I know this is last minute, but in light of who we’re up against, I do not want green pilots flying with green pilots. The new roster will pair experienced pilots with those of you who can still remember the academy,” a couple chuckles were received from the light joke. Makenna smirked at the light-hearted behavior that was such a change from before, “Jexxel used to be a squadron that relied heavily on its SCO. I don’t claim to be any more knowledgeable than the vets beside me,” at this her eyes flickered to Hades then back to the other pilots, “Consequently I will not pretend to be Warrant Officer Wolfrott’s replacement. Under him such a tactic could work. But I have different experiences in my life and thus slightly different beliefs. In my past work, no rookie could take on any challenge without a veteran. Jexxel will only grow if the strong support the weak, and that is the principle I will work with wholeheartedly.

“Vets, embrace your new role as a mentor. Teach the younger pilots so that they may make it out of this unscathed. Because the last thing any of us wants is another massacre. Through weakness, we are strong.”

The last line she had spoken to them rang through her mind. Through weakness, we are strong. Truthfully, she didn’t know where the words had come from. It wasn’t like her to give encouraging speeches, yet when she had said that line, the squadron had come to adopt it for themselves. Thus, the old motto, “We fight in the night”, had been abandoned for a new one that hit closer to home for most of them. And for the Jexxel pilots, it was a motto they had no problem embracing.

Makenna breathed in another contented sigh. Ever since she and Dante had sorted out their problems, it was like a burden had lifted. Sure the situation wasn’t completely perfect. Though Dante respected her more, he still had issues with loss and anger. Makenna secretly wondered if Dante’s feelings for Markus had been more than he let on. Lindi seemed to passive aggressively obey orders. And the two newest additions to Jexxel appeared as though they might prove to be a handful. Meanwhile Hades had been popping in and out, no doubt involved in some sort of Intelligence schemes.

Hades... Her mind went back to the confrontation in her office and what had happened between them there. Since then he had helped her in his own way. Though he was a man of self-gain, she couldn’t help but wonder about his motives. He certainly didn’t have to work hard to gain her trust and the recommendations she had promised. Then again, he had a lot to prove by being put as a Flight Lead as opposed to an SCO.

Still something nagged her about him.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound like an explosion. Makenna’s eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. Quickly she ran out the door, not bothering to key her office closed. Down the hall she could see people running and smoke filling the passage. As she neared the site of the catastrophe, she felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. It was one of the Jexxel rooms.

She stopped behind Hades who seemed to have gotten there first, “What the hell happened?!”

His broad shouldered form was unmoving, green eyes stoic as he looked on. Hades’ head tilted slightly, as if curiously, “An explosion,” he pointed out bemusedly, “though I’d imagine you figured that out on your own. ‘Boom’ followed by smoke tends to be rather distinctive.”

The tone the man was adopting did not set well with Makenna but she dismissed it in light of the situation, “Whose room was this?! Who was in there?” the SC had gotten so many roster changes that she could barely remember who got placed where, but as she glanced at the Jexxel pilots that had gathered around, she could begin to guess who the unfortunate victim was.

It was almost a smile that graced his features, almost but not quite, instead forming something akin to a grimace. It was, of course, a mask. “Xanatos, Commander,” He replied calmly, though the brilliant emerald of his gaze might have said that he knew more than he let on, “I predict survival chances are exceptionally low. The intensity of the flames coupled with the sheer volume of the explosion...” Hades turned slightly to regard her, watching the Jexxel SCO for her reaction.

Before Makenna had a chance to say anything, one of the pilots spoke, “X-Xanatos... is dead?” She looked beside Hades to see the other new pilot that had arrived with Xanatos. It was Van Mundi, and if she remembered correctly, the two had become close friends during academy. Suddenly, as she stared at the young pilot, she had no idea what to do or say. This was certainly not something to expect before going into a battle. Everything that had been going well had just broken in this moment.

Clenching her fists she broke off her gaze and looked to see who was around. As she expected, Tamran was standing nearby, looking more frustrated than sad. She waved him over, “Tam, I want you to stay here and handle this situation,” she said as her friend came over, “I trust you know what to do,” he nodded though looked rather quizzically between her and Hades who was still standing there, “Lieutenant Aita and I are going to discuss some things in light of this event,” she said, all the while avoiding Tamran’s gaze. The blond took the cue to mean something different than what was really going on. She didn’t need Tamran to know her suspicions.

Reluctantly Tamran left to organize the disaster. One of the Jexxel pilots, which she noted in some surprise was Dante, was pulling Van away from the site. Makenna then turned and glared at Hades, “Shall we?”

The young Lieutenant moved his green eyes from the fire to the Squadron Commander, measuring her as she accosted him. She had fire behind those eyes and an anger behind her words, though he wondered if there was anything more than that. He had seen plenty of angry people in his lifetime, killed plenty of angry people. “Commander,” He replied respectfully, clicking his heels together and offering a nearby Jexxel pilot a nod, though no other sign of his departure with the SCO was given as he followed her down the corridor. His boots clicked against the floor, “If t’were done when t’is done, t’were best t’were done quickly.” He remarked, raising a brow as he drew to a sudden halt, “Out with it.”

Though she was angry with him, she couldn’t help but admire him for certain things... “All right,” she said and turned to him, “I can’t help but note your attitude about this and the fact that you were one of the first on the scene who seemed to know what happened without even so much as inspecting anything. I’m quite aware of your VENI activities since you spilled so much to me last time. So tell me, what is all of this and what is your role in it?” The SCO crossed her arms like a mother waiting for her child’s confession.

Hades listened in silence, neutral expression on his face as he looked back toward the fire for the briefest of moments, the light from it casting illumination on his scar, “I don’t need to be VENI to know what an explosion sounds like,” He said quietly, “nor to recognise the heat of a flame, or in fact to identify whose quarters are where. Truth be told, these are things the Squadron Commander should figure out,” A subtle rebuke at her sudden suspicion, he watched her carefully now, “beyond that it was an explosion and that the fire is of an intensity that is likely to kill anyone subjected to it, I can tell you only that it was where Xanatos bunked. The man had a penchant for tinkering with things, one might say overly so..” Hades shrugged slowly, “It is not unreasonable to assume one of his tinkerings did this.”

And though she had expected his answer to be just that, Makenna couldn’t help but feel as though the young Lieutenant was hiding something. She’d little inkling as to what exactly, but knew that whatever it was, it was decidedly ominous... Not something she liked. “Right. And I have deduced this. However the type of explosion is what bothers me. While I know the boy brought along several things to tinker with, he was not dumb by any stretch of the imagination. He knew what he was doing. So, if anything, I doubt he would make such a mistake that would end up being quite as dangerous,” she uncrossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders, “But I suppose anything can happen...”

The former Squadron Commander did not so much as flinch as she came to her conclusions, the last statement causing him to narrow his eyes slightly, though not overly so. “‘Dumb’ is a very broad term,” he remarked almost playfully, “We are all dumb in one way or another.” He took a step toward the woman, leaning slightly downward, “doubt my intentions, Commander,” he murmured in advice, narrowing his eyes further before turning away, “not my loyalty.” He straightened now, looking back to her one last time as his brilliant emerald hues regarded her with what might have been curiosity or simply apathy. It was hard to tell, “If you’re quite finished, Ms. Aleshire,” He nodded in the direction of the fire, “I’m sure they could use my help.”

Makenna instead was the one to flinch slightly, but she recovered quickly, “Of course. And unfortunately it looks like I’m going to need to change the roster... again,” she looked over the Lieutenant, anger being replaced by something else. Had she misjudged him when he spoke at the scene? The man was the type to be mysterious in everything he did, and there was some aura of mistrust he gave off. Yet she couldn’t help but feel the need to trust him. Whatever had happened, whether it was Xanatos’ fault or someone else’s, she had a strange feeling that it was a deserved fate. But even if it was deserved, the morale of the squadron was not going to be affected in any way that was positive, of that the SC was sure. 

I guess this just goes along with our new motto. Through weakness, we are strong. But how the hell we’re going to turn this into a strength... she sighed as she watched the scene from a distance, We’ll figure it out. Hades eyed her a moment longer, as if hearing her thoughts. If he did, though, the man did not say anything, and instead pivoted and strode off toward the fire.

OOC:

WC: 2,269

AAR: Makenna thinks back on the squadron briefing she gave. She recognizes that while not everything is perfect, Jexxel is finally coming together. Then an explosion interrupts Makenna's thoughts and she runs to the scene. Xanatos has been killed in an explosion caused by his own tinkering. However Makenna suspects that Hades is involved and questions him. While she didn't receive any solid answers, she chooses to wave it off as something the man probably deserved, and the SC is not looking forward to dealing with morale after this.

OOC: I chose for Xanatos to die this way because it was fitting and it paralleled OOC conflicts. After all, tinkering with too many things can lead to one giant explosion... It was also the more logical route to go seeing as we barely had any interaction from him IC-wise.

OOC:

VENI post - We come in peace! arc

A loud explosion rocked the armored landspeeder as it made its way down the capital's streets. "Colonel, what was that?" Commander Talix inquired in a professional tone, managing though to also sound a bit concerned as well. "I don't know", the Yatir male replied and immediately reached for his comm device.

"This is Colonel Thrask, what was that just now?" the man asked rapidly, managing to at the same time keep his eyes on the road and not slow down either though. "Unknown sir... it seems there was an explosion downtown. We're sending units to investigate now. ETA 90 seconds", a female voice replied from the other end of the line.

"We might be too late", the blonde Vast Imperial woman muttered seemingly to herself, though loud enough to be heard by the native Colonel as well. "What do you mean? You think this has something to do with the men you're looking for?" the Yatir male inquired, once more with a certain hint of urgency present in his tone.

"It would be too great a coincidence otherwise... Think about it - we learned they got here only recently and now you're already dealing with explosions downtown? The odds of it being a coincidence are just too small", the woman replied confidently. "The blast did not feel very powerful though... I wonder if it was a targeted attack", the Human further revealed her line of thought when a second explosion echoed in the distance. Not even ten full seconds afterward yet a third blast could clearly be heard from further ahead.

"This sounds worse than I thought..." the blonde woman mumbled as the Yatir Colonel once more tried getting in touch with someone else in order to find out what exactly has happened.



"I don't care... Mobilize the entire 11th Corps if you have to, but put an end to this chaos!" a loud voice could be heard shouting even through the other side of the door. Colonel Thrask approached the door in question and after knocking twice, pushed it open and stepped inside. "General Gackker, sir! This is Commander Talix of the Vast Empire. She claims that she can help us find who's responsible for the bombings..."

An older Yatir male in a clean uniform filled with decorations placed down the comm device he had been gripping and turned to face the Human females his underling brought him.

"One police station, one office building and one residential building were bombed... Initial reports already indicate dozens of dead and hundreds of wounded. Tell me, Commander, do you know who's responsible for all this?" the General asked in a brusque, matter-of-factly voice.

"Yes, General. Thanks to reports from our Intelligence branch we've been able to identify the culprits as Corellian League agents, sent here as a vanguard of their main force. We are unsure what their exact goals are but we can only assume they're up to no good."

The woman paused and then continued after a short while "You mentioned three distinct buildings being bombed and claimed that the casualties only number in the dozens? I'm almost positive these agents are responsible but I do not believe this is the full extent of their training and purpose here..."

The General opened his eyes wider only to immediately afterward narrow them even more than before "You're saying that we can expect more casualties?" The blonde woman nodded silently. "I'm not sure whether they intend to use these bombings as a distraction for something else - something truly grand and serious... or whether it's only the start of a series of similar such bombings, meant to cripple and distract your forces by the time their own reinforcements arrive and finish the job. May I suggest we sit down and exchange information, General?

I also suggest that you increase security on all high risk buildings and installations within and just outside the capital. It may also be wise to assign additional protection to any and all members in high positions - be them political or military. If their goal is indeed to disrupt the well functioning of this government, then targeting those in charge would have the best chances of success. As both allies and friends, we of the Vast Empire would not like to see such a travesty occur..."

OOC:

WC: 718
AAR: Second post in my We come in peace! arc. By the time Commander Talix gets to meet with the Yatir General, 3 separate bombs go off somewhere in the middle of the capital. It is revealed that the bombings targeted neither vital locations or personnel, nor caused a high amount of casualties either. It is believed that something more might be at stake after all...

~~~The Hammer~~~

Arthur was standing on the bridge hiding in the Besh quadrant of the Nusiuu Docks facility.  He waited for the battle to start, and he decided to run the marines through a few tests.  He had Jaeron send a few locations of possible breaches.

The marines arrived at that location and found a few locations for cover.  They waited for the all clear call before they checked the next location for possible locations for cover.  When Jaeron sent the next location he made sure it was farther away from the first location to be able to judge how long it would take them to get there.

They were able to get to that location with relative ease, but seeing how the crew was reacting around them they were able to move through the halls unhindered.  Ishart split his remaining marines into two squads.  His squad would watch decks A and B while Lance Corporal Faye Avers Squad would watch decks C and D.

Each of the fire teams practiced their roles until they received word of the attack.  Each squad had the damage control team on the com line so they could patch the breach after the attack was repelled.  There was a few crew members that had non-essential roles joined the marines and tried to bolster their ranks during this protection mission.  There was a few that where trained enough to be able to hold their own in a fire fight, and made the protection that much easier.

~~~The Interceptor~~~

Ariyn took the short time before the fight to have her mock crew run through a few drills to make sure the crew was ready.  She had the turrets dialed way back as in par with checking the weapons after repair to make sure they work.  She knew if the fleet arrived early and saw the weapons fire at full strength they would know something was amidst.  While the gunners were testing the weapons some of them noticed that the calibration in some of them were off and began to tweak them to near perfection.

Sergeant Robert Iswalh team of marines were in the middle of their run when they found a few heavy duty crates that were empty and decided to place them at the likely locations of a breach.  The main location that would have been hit is the engine room and a few other high value targets.  While the team placed the crates he went to check the blast doors and made sure that they could only be opened after the bridge cleared the area.

~~~The Hammer~~~

Hanna Chambers the head medical chief quickly realized that the team they sent out did not have any medical personal.  She quickly made her way to the bridge to get that sorted out.  When she got there she saw Jason and Igin Antas there as well.  Arthur was handing out orders when he caught the group out of the corner of his eye.  He spun around and quickly began to find out what the crew wanted to say.  Jason was the first to speak.

“Sir, I thought we should send an Engineer to the Interceptor to keep it running.”

“That is why I came here we should have a damage control team there.”  Igin Antas said.

“Me too, I think we should have a medical personal over there.”  Hanna said.

Arthur looked up and nodded.  “Send who you think would be best suited for the tasks.”

They saluted and went on their way sending over there.  Hanna made her way to the medical bay and sent Doyle Jones to the Interceptor.  They grabbed a few of the medical supplies to temporally stock the medical bay of the Interceptor.  When they had the crates loaded he made his way to the other ship with Kyle Bay a medical crew member.

Jason made his way to the engine room and prepped Rufus Harker to go to the ship.  He grabbed his gear and made his way to the Interceptor.  Igin had Susan Farscream prep her team for the Republic Interdictor Cruiser.  The group made their way to the Interceptor and started their preps for the challenge of working on a new ship.

~~~The Interceptor~~~

Doyle Jones walked in to the medical to find out it was stocked but not fully.  The medical supplies he brought he was going to use if anyone gets hurt.  Kyle started to turn the equipment and made sure they all worked.  As the equipment finished is cycle Kyle started to calibrate them.

Rufus made his way to the engine bay and started to look over the engines and all of the generators to see if there was anything he could do to make them better.  When he was sure that they were running at their optimal performance, he looked over the rest of the systems to make sure they are working.

Susan started to organize her crew to learn how to get to certain places to fix any holes in the hull.  They took their time to find every nook possible.  When all the teams ready they reported their status to Ariyn.  With all her teams reporting in she sent a message to Arthur tell him they were ready for anything,

OOC:

868 words
AAR: Arthurs team prepares for the battle by running drills and sending more of the crew to the Republic Interdictor Cruiser the Interceptor both crew are ready for the battle.

The young Lieutenant was not an introvert, per se, but he did have a certain aversion to people with lesser intelligence than himself. It was a consequence of that that some people believed him to be a private, quiet person - and by all means he was, but not introverted. Something he took especially unkindly was when people touched his things, be it his uniforms, neatly arranged as they were, his datapads and plethora of technological gadgets, or even his blaster which was separate from the power pack when he did not use it. Did Hades feel any guilt? None. He had done what needed doing and while a death was on his hands, he was used to killing when it was necessary. A single, dull minded flight member was no particular loss. He closed his eyes, recalling how it had happened.

----
Before the explosion

The gymnasium was quiet at this time, with only night owls and those who were getting on shift soon nearby. Not everyone made use of the onboard exercise equipment, but Hades did so almost fanatically. He kept himself trim and more than that, muscular, a fit form that was neither bulky nor skinny. His toned biceps bulged as he continued the rep he was in the middle of, bringing the bar up to a 45 degree angle above his elbows, forearms lowering it to a matching angle below his elbows as he finished the last of his triple eight routine. Eight of the reps below the elbow, eight above and eight full reps. It ended being more painful than one might think. Hades had been shown it by Jarv back in the day, when he had been in that gang on Nar Shaddaa. He had thought Nar Shaddaa to be living torment, but some days he wondered if his cold nights there - with close friends - were better off than the days that came after. Kessel was, that was for sure.

He placed the weights steadily back on their rack and went to take a shower, washing the sweat off his somewhat aching body. This was the relaxation period, where it felt good. The aching would be tomorrow and the day after. Emerging from the shower, he donned the standard black uniform he wore around the Adjudicator, fitting over his form easily, perfectly. If there was one thing Hades liked being, it was well groomed. It was a hint of the vain side that Hades had, a vanity that was quite beyond what he might have shown. Yes, Hades was rather fond of himself. Not so fond as to be blinded by it, but he could not deny that he was likely the most interesting man in the universe.

His immaculately polished boots clicked against an equally polished floor, a mouse droid scurrying out of his way as he walked down the corridor. The Adjudicator’s bridge crew had set the squadrons up so that they were never too far away from things like the gym, a fact which Hades was quite appreciative of. Perhaps the bridge crew could be more efficient than Hades had first thought, after all, all ship crewers were supposedly useless... right? The thought had Hades shake his head, thinking on the traditional differences between fighter jockeys and whatever you’d name a ship crewman in a similar fashion The two coexisted out of necessity, one could not live without the other and vice versa. That they had a rivalry was understandable, but some people took it too far. The Lieutenant rounded a final corner-

-and almost walked smack-bang into another. Hades’ expression soured and he eyed the one before him evenly, Xanatos he remembered, new guy, was the thought that came quickly afterward. As Xanatos stumbled over a salute, Hades rolled his eyes inwardly but was all pomp and circumstance toward the younger man. “As you were,” He remarked shortly, brushing past the man toward where he made his quarters. It was not particularly private, the bunks that lined either wall slightly different in each case. There were partition walls separating each bunk from the next, Flight leaders getting a single bed to themselves while the rest of the flight members shared a double bunk with their wingmate. Having been to the gym, the young Lieutenant was reasonably tired, feeling a slight pressure and soreness in his eyes indicating he had been awake too long.

“Sir?” A voice interrupted his thoughts. Green eyes narrowed as he turned from the sight of his bed, regarding the offender with a measured gaze. An uninteresting looking human, Hades saw his wingman for the first time. Crim Graff, he recalled. He had made a note to read all the files on the members of Jexxel - new members and old. Nothing peculiar about Crim stood about, but then again it was the normal ones you had to look out for. Army Intel spooks liked ordinary folks. “Leading Crewman-”

“-Crim Graff, reporting for duty,” Hades finished the sentence for Graff, already knowing what he was going to say. Logical to him equated boring and by the book, even if he considered himself at least partially logical. “I know the drill, you go on about how it’s an honour to fly with me, you end with something that is intended to get us closer as people. Stow it,” Crim opened and closed his mouth silently, as if wanting to say something but thinking better of it. Hades turned back to the bed, “And while you’re ‘stowing it’, be a good Leading Crewman and get me some caf with..” A frown flickered across his youthful features, Graff looking expectant if not awkward, “..with no sugar.” He finished quietly. It would take him at least ten minutes, that was all Hades needed. The crewman stood there for a good few moments, as if he were about to object. Crack, crack. The noise Hades’ neck made as he tilted it from side to side, “now.” He added onto his order, leaving no room for the unspoken objection to the trivial duty. He supposed that Crim wondered why a fighter pilot needed to get caf for anyone.. He also did not care what Crim wondered. The crewman did as he was bade, scurrying off. Finally left in relative peace, Hades moved closer to his bed, knowing something was wrong. He was just not sure what was wrong. Something was out of place, missing perhaps.

His eyes held none of the hints of fatigue that they had had just moments before, alert and bright with suspicion. Someone’s been here, Hades realised. Of course, everyone knew how much Hades liked people playing with his toys.. except perhaps newbies. He did a mental stock-take of the room, ensuring everything was where he left it. Empty blaster, uniforms, chrono, datapads, locket- That was it. His suspicious gaze lingered on the locket. The small silver case was rather unassuming, but it was important to Hades for more than just sentimental reasons, and he usually kept a very close eye on it.. He had forgotten this once when he had made his way to the gymnasium and had thought that he could let it rest for the hour and a half or so he was at the gym. It appeared not. The locket -- while undamaged and still pristine -- had been turned over so the small engraving was upward facing. A tilt of the Lieutenant’s head took in the splayed chain, the lack of anything else disturbed. Someone liked shiny things, or someone knew what they were looking for. A gloved hand reached out and retrieved the small trinket from the side-table. A short opening of it and glance inside confirmed his suspicions. The chip was gone. A breath hissed outward as he raised a hand to his ear and spoke into his VENI-issue commlink. One of the perks -- and downfalls -- of being a VENI coordinator was that they listened to almost his every move.

“Clearance; GL one-one-thirty-eight, prefix T-H, designation X.” There was nothing in response for a moment, before a crackle of static and an imperious voice.

“Go ahead.” No names, no questions. VENI was too efficient for that.

“Counter-espionage asset VENI-MI-WD II believed to be in enemy hands. Requesting remote trace and transmission block on the asset.” Hades replied, glancing around and over the small barriers that separated each of the lines of bunks.

“Tracking initiated. Block also initiated,”

“Confirmed,” he said, looking at a wrist-attached-datapad, “receiving. Transmissions detected?”

“Zero,” the voice came back. Hades did not know who it was, nor did he need to. The channel would not have been hacked.

“ROE?”

“Any means necessary.” The ghost of a smile flickered at the edge of the green-eyed agent’s lips as he heard the reply. Carte blanche, more or less.

“Understood.” Hades said in farewell, cutting the channel. He had his orders. Tapping the datapad on his wrist, Hades called up the Squadron Personnel roster. The funny thing about it was anyone on the Adjudicator could access it; it left them vulnerable. Hades made a mental note to get a VENI slicer to encrypt it, he himself being no slicer. A recent memory flashed through his mind as he explored the possibilities silently. A brief greeting between subordinate and superior, a hurried salute before Hades himself uttered ‘As you were’. Being near the quarters of Jexxel in itself was not a crime, nor proof of guilt. But it was enough to raise his suspicions. He pulled up Xanatos’ file on the datapad, scanning it for vital details. Associated with Mandalorians. Mercs. Pirates. All types of scum.. he was sure they would pay a pretty credit for the information on that chip. He pressed his hand to his ear again,

“File: Xanatos DLCXXVII Bombassa. VENI clearance,” Hades glanced at the chrono to check he was still using a valid clearance code. Satisfied that he was, he continued, “Clearance: GL one-one-thirty-eight, prefix T-H, designation X.”

There was no response this time, though the file he had been looking at on his datapad lit up, a highlighted section appearing in bold text.

Known associates within criminal rings on Nar Shaddaa, Mandalore, Nal Hutta and-

Hades’ eyes narrowed significantly at the last word. The last, loathed word. It was as if glaring at the word would obliterate what the word itself referred to, in particular, one name starting with K. -the Kessel spice mines. Hades had read enough, “File close.” He murmured, the highlighted section disappearing as he spoke and his index finger closing Xanatos’ regular file as he heard Crim approach.

“Sir, your caf-”

Hades took the beverage from the man without a second thought, nodding at him in thanks, “Excellent. You are dismissed,” to Crim’s logical mind, this whole situation made no sense. Caf then suddenly dismissal? But wingmen were supposed to get along out of the cockpit.. weren’t they? Crim had learned not to question when Hades gave him an order though, and turned to depart. Hades’ eyes watch him go, pegging him as a potential Army Intel agent once more for good measure before calling up the trace on his wrist computer. It was down the corridor on the opposite side; the main half of Jexxel’s barracks. This main half housed -- as might have been suggested by being called the ‘main half’ -- the majority of Jexxel, with the other half of the barracks Hades now stood in being home to himself and few others.. The secondary barracks, which he was quite content to lord over. He minimized the hologram again and made his way toward the door of that barracks..

Most of Jexxel were out in the sims, at the gym, or at the bar. It was good, it meant that Hades saw exactly what he wanted to from the shadowed doorway. There was Xanatos, beneath the artificial lights with a datapad in hand and a miniature chip plugged into it. Xanatos must have heard something, because he looked up and saw Hades’ outline in the doorway. His eyes widened as Hades’ narrowed, the light catching his emerald eyes and giving them an almost feline, predatory appearance. Without another word, Hades turned from the room. He had seen enough. “Activate self destruct sequence; Information protection protocol M17-7H24vVN.” A soft beep came from his ear piece. He could hear fumbling in the room now as he started into a slow jog, then turned around when he was far enough away, backing into a doorway. “Initiate.”


Beep. Beep. Beep. Then the explosion tore through the air, and Hades huffed contentedly, emerging from the doorway to approach the rapidly intensifying flames. He could see neither Xanatos nor the datapad, so he waited. He heard the sound of boots, then Makenna’s voice, “What the hell happened?”

----
Present

Demetrius’ eyes opened from his brief recollection of events. He had killed a man and got away with it, moreover he had been able to escape the necessity of lying. Always a good thing. Another good thing, the information purge protocol would go to nearby VENI sensors.. and they would disable recordings of the incident under the pretense of interference from the bomb. The Lieutenant let out a sigh, pleased with the outcome. No-one else had been harmed in the blast and the damage to the adjudicator was largely superficial. It simply meant that more of those sleeping in the ‘main half’ of the Jexxel bunks would have to invade Hades’ half of the barracks. He could deal with it for the time being.

There was no need for a report,not yet. The voice on the end of the line would know whether it was done or not, regardless of what Hades did or did not tell him. The perks of being a Coordinator with VENI, he thought wryly as alarms began to wake him from his thoughts. Proximity alerts?

OOC:

Wordcount: 2,351

AAR: A little in depth story-telling of the explosion and Xanatos' death. Hades was responsible for it, to keep VENI secrets. In the pursuit of secrecy, he may go a bit extreme - but effectively so. Hades comes away with the lesson that tinkering with stuff you know you should not tinker with gets you killed Also, opened up the ending for other Jexxels as we come into the opening stages of the battle

ALSO: Hooray, first posttt on the story

“Hyperspace reversion in thirty seconds, sir!” Said the Drall Communications Officer on the bridge of the CC-9600 frigate Osprey.

Commodore Wil Tavere, the CO of the 3rd Corellian Defence Fleet, nodded in acknowledgement as he ran a hand thoughtfully across his bearded chin.  “Very well.  All hands, battle stations!” He commanded, and the Osprey stepped up from Yellow to Red Alert.

A few moments later, the swirling infinity of hyperspace receded from his vision, and all fifty ships of his fleet arrived at the outer edge of the Nusiuu Docks Facility.  Tavere’s eyes flicked across the viewport, taking in the vision of their target.  The colossal Absit shipyards spanned a great swathe of space, though it was far from a solid block.  The four sectors of the Facility snaked out from a central Control hub, a spindly collection of platforms, scaffolds and cranes.  The minimalist approach is what gave the yard such massive docking capacity, and also left the docked vessels clearly visible, even from a distance.

Even better than their intelligence had reported, there were fully forty capital ships, powered down and unmanned, clearly visible among the scaffolds.  Tavere smiled wolfishly, envisioning the grand theft that he and his force were about to pull off.  As much as he had his reservations about this mission, he relished the coming victory.

“The rest of the Fleet has arrived without incident,” Reported his XO, a grey-haired man with a long, almost melancholy face.  Commander Jrasaf had been Tavere’s solid right hand for years, and the Commodore trusted him implicitly.  “They are currently entering formation and awaiting orders.”

“And our allies?” Asked Tavere, referring to the aspect of this attack that was the source of most of his aforementioned reservations.

“The Third Republic Battle Group has also arrived intact,” Answered Jrasaf immediately.  “All thirty of them are holding position approximately ten klicks away.”

“Send a message to Admiral Gaeth on the Consensus,” Said the Commodore, preferring to simply send the orders rather than deal with the New Republic officer in a face-to-face holo transmission.  “Tell them that we shall begin the attack immediately.  They may observe as they wish, but politely suggest that they need not do more.”  It would in fact be ideal if they just stayed out of our way altogether.

“Very good, sir,” Said Jrasaf, who turned sharply on one heel and marched off.

Tavere felt a surge of adrenaline, a rush of excitement and nerves, as the Third Corellian Defence Fleet advanced.

-----

On the darkened bridge of the VSD Brilliant, Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail and his senior officers sat, barely speaking (and even then only in whisper), as they noted the advance of the enemy.  The two hostile fleets had arrived pretty much on schedule and were approaching Nusiuu as planned.

“Transmissions?” Asked Zail, looking down into the crewpit and speaking to his Coms Officer, Dev Mishima.

“A few broadcasts from Nusiuu Control to the Corellians,” Said Mishima, listening in carefully on their allies.  His face was partly lit by the lights of his duty station, but aside from that the crew pit was dark.  Main lighting was off, aiding the illusion that the Brilliant – like several other vessels of the VE’s Second Fleet – was an empty ship laid up in the Docks.  “They seem to be asking for the fleets to identify themselves and state their intentions in Absit-administered space.”

“Are they acknowledging?” Asked Serpent.

“Negative,” Confirmed Dev.  “The Corellians are just coming on, headed straight for the outer edge of the minefield.”

“Are they approaching any of the safe corridors?” Asked Zail’s XO, Eylana Saitroni.

“No,” Confirmed Mishima.  “Though they are approaching one of the weaker areas of the field.”

“Let’s see it!” Said Serpent, ordering the bridge’s tactical hologram projector into life.  Taking stock of it, he noted the angle of the Corellian 3rd Fleet’s approach.  “They are deploying mine sweepers to clear the way for their capital ships,” He said.  “Though they are already sending some of their smaller ships through.”

Saitroni, calm and professional, began taking stock of the situation.  “Assault and boarding shuttles,” She observed.  “Escorted by Republic-style fighters.  They are coming through and seem to be on course for Facility sections Besh and Cresh.”

The Brilliant herself was in Besh, as were a few other Second Fleet vessels.  And with the Corellians foolishly splitting their forces (sending in their boarding ships and fighters first while the main fleet hung back to crawl painstakingly through the mines) the trap was laying itself perfectly!

“The Nusiuu Golan Defence Platforms are firing!” Noted Saitroni.  “They are also scrambling both their TIE squadrons and preparing turrets mounted along the docks.  Orders sir?”

Part of Zail wanted to launch the surprise attack now, and assist the people of Absit in defending their docks as the VE had promised to do.  However, he knew that they had to wait.  He had to let the Corellian fleet more fully enter the mine field, both to make their ability to retreat and fight all the harder, and to put further distance between them and their Republic backup.

“Hold position,” Said Serpent.  “Do not engage yet...”

-----

Admiral Gaeth of the New Republic Third Battle Group watched the Corellians advance, and observed the way that the startled Nusiuu Facility staff and defenders rushed to offer their feeble resistance.

However, as he stood on the bridge of the ISD Consensus and saw the situation unfold, the aged native of Chandrila felt his respect for the Corellian commander drop.  And it was pretty low to begin with.

The fool is in such a rush to steal those ships and flee back to Corellia that he is bungling it unnecessarily, he thought of Tavere.  He should have kept his fleet together and waited till it was through the mine field before launching shuttles and fighters.

“The first wave of Corellian assault craft and their escort have reached the Facility,” Said his Sensor Chief.  “They are taking heavy fire from the Golan Defence Platforms.  Their losses are mounting.”

Well that was obvious, thought Gaeth.  One can only imagine what is motivating Tavere.  Actually, I have a guess.  Its us.  He probably expects that my force is here to swipe a few choice cruisers for ourselves.  And he is partly right., though my orders come with the caveat that we are only to launch our own boarding craft if the Corellians screw up.  And that is looking increasingly likely...

-----

“A little more...” Said Serpent, watching the position of the enemy fleet.  As the Corellians burrowed further through the mine field, they were moving in ever-tighter formation to avoid the field detection grid.  Their progress was rapid, though, and they were already about a third of the way through the ring of mines.

“Sir!” Said Saitroni suddenly.  “Several Corellian assault ships have breached the Nusiuu defences and are landing on some of the abandoned capital ships!  We have to act now!”

“Indeed we do!” Said Zail, unable to wait any longer.  “Full power!  Engines ready, shields and weapons live!  All hands, battle stations!  Mishima, signal our forces to come out of hiding!  All ships, all fighter wings!  Fire at will!”

And so the hidden elements of the Second Fleet emerged to begin the battle proper!

OOC:

1210 words.  Let’s rock!  All ships and fighters lying low in the docks, now is the time to strike!  Hit enemy assault shuttles and their fighter escorts that are already inside the mine field.  Be aware that you will have help from the turrets and regular TIE fighters of the Nusiuu Facility itself.  As for the two enemy fleets, hold off on them for now.  The rest of our forces will be along in my next post to handle them!

After Action Report:  The Osprey and the Third Corellian Defence Fleet arrive at Nusiuu, along with the Third Republic Battle Group.  Commodore Tavere, the Corellian commander, orders his capital ships to begin slowly moving through the mine field around the Docks, while sending his assault shuttles and fighters in ahead to begin seizing warships.  Meanwhile the Republic forces under Admiral Gaeth hang back.  Serpent, on board the Brilliant, waits until the Corellian capital ships are deep in the mine field.  Then he orders the hidden elements of the Second Fleet to attack!  Their priority, the boarding shuttles and their escorts.

The VSD Brilliant rose majestically from its berth in the Nusiuu Facility docks, and angled its prow seventeen point two degrees to starboard.  Lining up the enemy fleet in its sights, the Star Destroyer glided forward with a single burst of its colossal engines, accelerating to attack speed even as its weapons systems blazed into life.

On the bridge of the warship, Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail smiled as he watched his skilled gunners obliterate an old Clone Wars era boarding craft that belonged to the Corellians.  The ship, no doubt containing several dozen elite marine commandoes, had been closing on the Brilliant, believing it to be un-manned and vulnerable.  They, along with the rest of the Corellian’s Third Fleet, had been suckered in perfectly.

And the full extent of this trap has not even been revealed yet, mused Zail.  As he turned from the window (a TIE Interceptor roaring past, chasing a hostile A-Wing) he beheld the image of the tactical hologram nearby.  The display was clearly showing the progress of the Corellian’s main force, as they moved swiftly yet carefully through the mine field surrounding Nusiuu.  Even as Vast Empire vessels rose from hiding in the docks and moved to attack, the Corellians were still proceeding with the offensive.

And why wouldn’t they? Thought Serpent.  They still have us heavily outnumbered and outgunned.  They’ll keep coming, surprised by our little ambush but still convinced that they can handle us.  And then Trykon and the rest of our force will drop in behind them and the real trap will be sprung!

“Look sir,” Said his XO, Eylana Saitroni, pointing at the tactical display.  The woman’s keen eyes noticed every detail, and Serpent was pleased with how cool and composed she was remaining in her first battle at his side.  “A trio of boarding craft are heading for that Strike Cruiser two bays over.  Suggest we take them out.”

Zail nodded.  “They have four X-Wings as escort.  Send a Flight of Shock Squadron to intercept.”

The Kuati woman wasted no time in relaying the order to the Com Chief, and the command was sent.  Just a few seconds later, Shocks 1 through 4 altered course and made for the boarding craft.  Serpent wished them well, but knew that their success or failure was out of his hands.  All he could do was watch.

-----

Alex ‘Sunburn’ Larsh hunched over the controls of his TIE Interceptor, leaning into the forward viewport as he pushed the throttle forward in his dive.  The cursed enemy X-Wing pilot was good, swerving highly erratically in an effort to elude him, but Larsh was still on his tail.  He never gave up.

He spared a quick glance to his port side, catching a glimpse of Shock 3, who was struggling to stay with him.  His fellow pilot, call sign of ‘Jumpman’, was longer in the Vast Empire than Larsh, and thus more senior in the Squadron.  However, he had spent less time as a pilot and was clearly inferior to Sunburn.

“Let him go, Four!” Came Jumpman’s voice over Larsh’s com, “Break and we can re-engage him later!”

“Not a chance,” Snarled back Sunburn, “I’ve almost got him!”  And so saying he fired his lasers, four beams of green lancing through the black of space and splashing against the other’s shields.  The X-Wing’s deflectors glowed bright upon impact, and then failed, allowing the shots to rip through into the port thrusters, obliterating them and setting off an explosion along its length.  “Gottcha!” Declared Larsh with victorious glee.

“Not bad, Four,” Said Jumpman with grudging respect.  Like most of the Shock pilots, he had a low regard for Sunburn, owning to Larsh’s previous career with the Imperial Dominion.  “Now let’s get after those shuttles!”

The boarding craft headed for the nearby Strike-Class Cruiser were the real targets, the accompanying X-Wings just a distraction.  Indeed, Sunburn wondered why the Corellians had assigned so few fighters to escort the assault ships, given that their capture of capital ships was the entire point of the attack on the Nusiuu Facility.  Then again, the fools had not banked on an ambush, and a handful of X-Wings would ordinarily have been more than sufficient to escort the shuttles pass the dock’s defences.

“This time,” Came Jumpman’s voice, “You follow me in,” He ordered as they angled towards the shuttles.  There was no mistaking the harshness in his voice.  When they had engaged the X-Wings, Larsh had surged ahead.  He knew that he was the superior pilot and eagerly leapt into the attack to prove himself to his new Squadron.  Jumpman had followed his lead, but the higher ranked pilot was clearly annoyed.

“Yes, sir,” Said Sunburn, “On you.”

They raced ahead, a few seconds behind Shock Two and Shock Leader, and decimated the boarding craft with a few passes.  The clunky vessels had shielding but not manoeuvrability, and were sitting ducks for the fast and furious TIE Interceptors.

Larsh felt a certain thrill at destroying them, taking satisfaction in the easy win.  As he and the rest of Shock Squadron turned from the wreckage, he knew that that was going to be their only easy kills of the day...

OOC:

865 words.  A short post and a little combat

After Action Report:  The Brilliant moves into battle and orders some of their TIE Interceptors to destroy some Corellian boarding craft.  Among them is former Imperial Dominion pilot ‘Sunburn’ Larsh, who is still trying to find acceptance with the other VE pilots.

OOC:

Drac is back. What Mon Calamari could resist the opportunity to lay a collective smackdown on a race famous for its smugglers?

~~~~~ 24 Hours before battle commenced ~~~~~

Having received clearance, the shuttle began its final approach toward a secure docking bay aboard Station Cappadocious, the massive orbital platform that served as the physical heart of the Vast Imperial Navy. The shuttle itself was utterly nondescript- a standard Imperial Lambda class craft without even a given name. The only thing that might be considered remarkable about it was its destination- the secure private bays- and perhaps its cargo: one man.

That man sat alone in the dimly lit passenger bay, all but invisible. He sat there silently, deep in thought and expressionless even as the sights through the viewport brought forth an eruption of memories and emotions. The familiar shape of the station was nostalgic, comforting. The running lights of patrol craft and supply ships called up memories of flight. The vast bulk of the mighty Atrus engendered remembrances of desperate combat and camaraderie shared with friends long dead. But it was another ship that truly drew his eye: her darkened silhouette nestled close to the station, with only a scant smattering of light burning. Guns that had rained brilliant fury down on ship and planet alike sat silent, and yet their menace remained.  Engines that had spearheaded the advance of a nation lay shrouded in gloom, but must yet hold a spark. Her daggerish profile was motionless, stifled. Dead. And yet she retained both majesty and mystique…and power; power that could inspire beings, bringing a white ray of hope or scarlet despair.

The man shifted in his seat only the tiniest bit, the only evidence of the turmoil within. The sight of the ship brought forth a welter of emotions: Sadness. Rage. Regret. Affirmation. Pride. And more besides…

Dracule Mihawk shook his head, his gaze unwavering, and spoke quietly, “You’ve found no peace outside of battle, have you Warrior?”

A moment later, almost as if to answer him despite the miles of vacuum between them, a light flickered on near the bridge of the mighty Imperial-II Star Destroyer. Though she slept, the Halcyon Warrior yet lived.

~~~~~

The shuttle docked shortly, and Drac disembarked without a word. It lifted off once more, moments after his boots cleared the ramp, and departed as innocuously as it had come. The Mon Calamari didn’t watch it go, but strode toward the hangar door. It opened before he had closed the distance, revealing the back of a blonde human as he spoke to an unseen companion, “I’m telling you, Petty Officer, this hangar is mothballed.

A young human woman’s head came into view over the man’s shoulder, and her eyes widened as she pointed, “Then how did he get there, Lieutenant?”

“Wha?” The man whirled, and blinked when he came face to face with Drac, now only five or six feet away. The Lieutenant recovered quickly, though, and spoke quickly when he noted the lack of identification on the Mon Calamari’s clothes, “Halt! Identify yourself!”

If he’d had an eyebrow, Drac would have quirked it. Yes, he had been gone. But surely memories were not so short. Instead of replying, he simply took another step forward, into the light cast by the door. The Lieutenant was silent for a moment, even when the Petty Officer spoke up, “Well?” The Lieutenant’s expression of shock and suspicion changed, retaining the shock but exchanging suspicion for incredulity. But his training asserted itself after a moment and he snapped to attention, “Captain Mihawk! Where…how…?”

Drac returned the salute, “Not your concern right now, Lieutenant. Please escort me to the Halcyon Warrior at once.”

~~~~~

Mihawk spoke a password as he stepped onto the bridge, and watched as lights came up and the ventilators started churning. Good. The dry, stale air of ship had been bugging him even in this short span of time. Pacing forward, he slipped into the familiar command chair and began bringing up status reports. Not that he could do much by himself- one man could not crew an Imperial Star Destroyer. He was simply biding his time, waiting for the reaction that would start the ball rolling.

It came ten minutes later. The main holoprojector stuttered to life, motes of light coalescing into the image of a wookiee who stared intensely at him. Drac rose, saluting, “Admiral. Captain Mihawk reporting. Please forgive my absence.”

The Mon Calamari had never seen a wookiee sputter before, but it happened now, “[Drac? Wh-what the…? How…?]” The furry alien shook his head violently, and his shocked gaze became… somewhat furious, “[Emperor’s black bones! Where the hell have you been?!? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t immediately detain you for desertion- or just rip your arms off myself and save the tribunal the trouble.”

Drac chuckled, perhaps a bit darkly, “You should receive some word as to that shortly, sir. Trust me- my absence was not of my own making. But aren’t there more pressing matters at hand? You could use the Warrior’s guns at Absit.”

Shock fought its way back into Stormz’s expression, but Drac saw the calculation in his eyes also. After a moment’s silence, the wookiee responded, “[Wherever you’ve been, you’ve been keeping informed. We’re going to have a long talk about that, Mihawk. And my de-arming threat still stands.]” He continued when he saw Drac open his mouth to press his point, “[Yes, yes. You’re right. The Halcyon Warrior’s presence there could save a lot of our peoples’ lives. But it’s not that simple. You’ve been gone for months, and the Warrior hasn’t seen action since your disappearance. Your crew’s been reassigned except for a skeleton force for maintenance, and there’s not a starfighter aboard the ship. Not to mention the fact that we’ve been pumping all available resources into preparing the rest of the fleet- and at Belgaroth at that.]”

Drac nodded slowly, but thought rapidly, “That’s tough, sir…but not insurmountable. I’ll take the class of Academy recruits closest to graduation and, if you can spare them, some of the reserve shift off of the Atrus or the Loyalty.”

“[Hmm…that might work. But you still won’t be fully crewed and two thirds of those you do have will be so wet behind the ears that they leave trails in the corridors. And that doesn’t fix the starfighter issue- there are none in the system that I can spare for you. Not to mention the fact that you won’t have any stormtroopers or other ground forces aboard. Get boarded and you’ll hand the enemy an ImpStar Deuce in giftwrapping.]”

“We can deal with it, sir. Am I right in guessing the Adjudicator will be hosting the combined headquarters during this operation?” The wookiee nodded, “Then they’ll be hanging back from the most intense fighting and may be able to spare me a squadron or two for a screen and possibly even some personnel and troopers.” Drac paused, then continued, “Sir, I know we’ll risk system failures due to disuse and we’ll probably take a kriffing beating at best- but you need our guns and shields in the middle of that.”

Stormz looked Drac hard in the eye for a moment, then whuffed out a sigh, “[Perhaps. Your ability to persuade hasn’t changed, at least, old friend. I’ll give the orders. We should have your Halcyon Warrior ready for departure in approximately eight hours.]”

Drac sagged just a bit, relieved, “Thank you, sir. We won’t let you down.”

“[Also- when you are prepared to launch, you will do so and will then rendezvous with a taskforce at the following coordinates…]” Drac noted them down dutifully as Stormz continued, “I may or may not detach your ship to close to combat at any given time. Your initial objective, though, is to screen our interdictor cruiser.]”

Drac took a moment to let the reality of his ship’s ill-prepared state combat his desire to mix it up in direct combat, then nodded, “Understood, sir.”

The wookiee Admiral nodded, then brought up a new topic, “[You may already know, or you may not. In your absence, Mr. Trykon has been promoted to Chief of Naval Operations and Mr. Zail is now Chief of Naval Warfare. You’re not coming back to any express command position.]”

“I understand, sir.” Drac nodded judiciously, “I didn’t know, but I can’t say that I’m surprised. As ever, though- such things aren’t my main concern.”

“[Very well, then. Good luck, Captain. Just remember: this conversation isn’t over.]” Stormz saluted, then ended the transmission.

Twenty minutes later the first crewmember rushed into the bridge and threw a hasty salute at Drac, now attired in standard battle dress including his rank and medals, and then dove into the lead engineering chair on the bridge without offering so much as his name. The man’s fingers flew over the controls as he began running diagnostics and bringing systems online. Running lights blinked on, weapon capacitors began filling, and a blue-white glow began to build up at the rear of the ship as her engines spun up. The Halcyon Warrior began to wake from her long, restless sleep.

Drac smiled and took a deep breath of the newly recycled and humidified air on the bridge. It was good to be home. And better even to be fighting his chosen fight once again. He let the man work in peace, knowing the new officer had more on his plate than he could handle already, without the interference of a fussy superior. So he sat there, browsing through some status reports, as he waited for the rest of this hodge-podge bridge crew to arrive.

His attention wasn’t really on the reports, though. This was his ship, the ship he’d fought to conquer and then made his own, and from which he’d commanded dozens of engagements from small skirmishes to planetary assaults. He didn’t need reports to know her general status: like an athlete too long recumbent, she had her stiffness and her cramps to deal with. But the Warrior was whole, sound, and ready for battle.

Instead, his thoughts were turned within, to the events of the recent past. He’d learned much in the past months, and had suffered for every scrap of knowledge. The galaxy was new in his eyes, and it was larger and darker than ever before. He looked up at the stars shining beyond the viewports and sighed quietly as he thought to himself, ’The darkness of the void between them almost seems poised to swallow them up, both the stars and all who huddle around them, clinging to the light. Like all my generation, I am a child of war. This galaxy has known no peace in my lifetime, and I have little doubt that it will know peace no better when I am gone. The conflicts are too deep, too pervasive. They exist on so many levels, even levels most people never realize exist.’ He was quiet for a moment longer, staring out at the world, but he took heart, ’That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that my actions are useless. I cannot fix the galaxy- no one can. But I can protect those who are mine to protect, and I can push forward the frontier of order and discipline to encompass new planets and peoples. And perhaps somewhere, someday, I can provide someone at least the illusion of a galaxy of peace. That, I think, will be enough.’

OOC:

Word Count: 1895

AAR: Drac returns rather mysteriously and immediately boards the Halcyon Warrior. In a tense conversation with Stormz he secures materials and personnel to effect a rushed re-activation of the ship in preparation for joining Stormz's interdictor taskforce to Absit.

(Absit system)

Einarr sat in the cockpit of his powered down Interceptor awaiting first contact with the foe men anticipated to arrive in the system. Time had seemed to flash by since his arrival on board the Adjudicator, from reporting for duty with Jexxel squadron, to being assigned his new fighter, to the quick briefing he received before being launched into the darkness of space to play the part of wreckage adrift in the void. A glance at his controls showed a distant flash on the passive sensors as the enemy began to arrive, Einarrs lips split in a cruel grin as he awaited the first of the foes to pass his engagement envelope. His fleshy left hand rested on the control yoke as his right sat awaiting the time to flip the control switch for the generators from their passive state to full. The moments that had slid past so fast previously seemed to stretch interminably as he awaited the release from the solitude of drifting in space, for the furious pace of combat. Cassius began comparing the passive sensors to set a targeting algorithm as the small fighter slowly drifted past a savaged piece of armor adrift in the black.

The first boarding craft passed into his engagement envelope but Cassius stayed Einarrs hand on the toggle.  The enemy craft sped forward as his AI companion held him frozen in place, as the assault transport passed the secondary engagement envelope release was granted and with a flick the toggle granted the generator access to power up the small craft. Einarr squeezed the trigger on the control yoke as the enemy transport entered the targeting reticule. The flash of lasers lit the dark as they leapt forth from the barrels of his guns, the sparking of the enemies shields gave way quickly to the burst of armor and hull as the craft was reduced to floating wreckage. Einarr slid the throttle forward as he leapt into the fray. Dodging around a second boarding craft as the target lock tone sang out. A concussion missile slid free in passing and shattered the second craft as thoroughly as the lasers had dealt with the first. Einarr felt his fighter shudder from the silent shock wave of the enemies last moments, he had gotten a little to close to the doomed craft. 2 of the boarding craft down, now to contest with their escort. 3 T-65 X-wings arced in on an intercept course with his fighter as Einarr juked his craft around another piece of scrap, he triggered a burst of laser fire in their direction assisted by Cassius targeting solutions. The short burst flashed against a pair of the enemy fighters shields as Einarr changed course tracking on the assumed positions of his squadron mates as he took evasive action. Hopefully his fellow pilots would be able to pick off his pursuers as he baited and distracted them. A target of opportunity showed itself as Einarr triggered another burst followed by another missile, 2 more boarding craft detonated in a burst of flame and debris as Einarr continued to flee through the debris. The boarding craft appeared to be more fragile than he had expected, but he was not complaining over the death of a few more mammals who threatened his homes cause. A stuttering burst of green bolts flashed past his right wing causing the shields to flash for a moment before returning to transparency as a piece of debris passed between his pursuers guns and his craft. Einarr pressed the rudder pedal and twisted the control yoke before cutting power as he drifted in a roll behind a massive piece of debris. The Trio of fighters passed him at speed giving Einarr the chance to once again speed forward, this time aiming for a group of boarding craft escorted by a pair of Y-wings. His opening burst of laser and missile fire found their mark at the cross members bearing the engines on the rear of the trailing Y-wing causing the enemy bombers shields to collapse and the fighter to split in half. He continued to trace his fire through the dark until the lasers burned their way into the second y-wing, this bomber had started attempting to evade causing his fire to slice shields and the rear most portion of the ships port engine nacelle. The bomber began a drift to starboard under its remaining engines power before it collided with one of the boarding craft causing a double burst of explosions as the fatal collision caused both craft to detonate. Once more green bolts of coherent light flashed into his shield forcing him to break off his attack run as his pursuers once again took up the chase. Einarr cursed softly as he turned his craft in a tight bank back, his evasive maneuvers intensifying as the lead x-wings cohorts took up the fight. Einarr triggered the comm “Jexxel Squadron, Besh 2 requesting assistance. I am being pursued by 3 enemy fighters and am in critical danger.” Cassius appended his projected flight plan to the message as well as a short sensor reading as Einarr turned the craft in patterns devised to keep the maximum amount of cover between himself and his foes. His interceptor burned a trail towards the prospect of aid from his fellow pilots.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

OOC:

OOC: 890 words, a short post where Einarr engaged and eliminated several boarding craft and a pair of y-wings before being driven to flee due to superior local enemy fighter superiority in hopes of aid from his flight mates.

OOC:

VENI post - We come in peace! arc

"Sir!" a Yatir Lieutenant barged in the small room whilst the higher ranked General and his Vast Imperial guests were still discussing the current crisis. "Guhrans, what's wrong?" the General inquired anxiously. "Sir, we just received a transmission from the Nusiuu Docks - two fleets have jumped in the system. Transponder codes identify the vessels as both Corellian League and New Republic. Sir, they're refusing to communicate, instead moving in towards the Docks..."

General Gackker's expression darkened as soon as he listened to the grim news. Even so the decorated officer still managed to ask "How many, Guhrans?" The Lieutenant did not answer straight away. He first lowered his gaze and lightly shook his head sideways before dejectedly opening his mouth to speak: "Too many, sir..."

Instinctively the General turned to look at the Vast Empire's representative. Partly because he was ashamed that an outsider was present to learn of their inability to fend for themselves... and partly because he knew that he could use all the help he could get, regardless of politics or other such factors.

As if sensing the other man's inner struggle, Commander Talix nodded slightly and spoke in a calm and reassuring voice "Don't worry General, the Vast Empire will protect your Docks and help deal with the invaders. You were there for us when we needed you, so it's only fair for us to also be there for you in your hour of need."

The words were chosen carefully beforehand, meant to inspire a sense of trust and friendship, but not also raise suspicion and doubt as far as their real motivations may have been. VENI knew that there were times when force was needed to acquire something. It also knew that there were times when trickery and backstabbing were similarly required. What the agency never forgot though was that good old fashioned diplomacy was similarly a wonderful tool to be used in certain cases. This was deemed one such case...

Although it would be quite easy for the VE to simply take over the Docks after the invading force would be defeated, the higher ups decided not to pursue such a course of action. More important than mere ships was the political image that the Vast Empire tried advertising to the rest of the galaxy. Rather than appear as just another regular Remnant group, the VE tried to blend in the discipline of the former great Empire under Emperor Palpatine all the while removing the biggest aspect that caused the wretched rebels to go against it in the first place...

The Yatir General was about to open his mouth and speak - no doubt express his gratitude - when a much louder explosion could be heard from outside. Unlike the previous ones, this particular blast was powerful enough that it made the entire building shake as a result.

Immediately Lieutenant Guhrans rushed out of the room, trying to figure out exactly what else blew up this time around, whilst the General powerlessly slumped back to his seat. The Vast Empire may deal with the larger threat found at the Nusiuu Docks, but here on Absit it would be up to him and his men to deal with the unseen threat. So far things did not look so good though...

OOC:

WC: 509
AAR: Third post in my We come in peace! arc. The planet learns that the Corellians have arrived but realize that there's nothing that they can really do about it. Meanwhile the ground side terrorist attacks continue...

Admiral Rao Gaeth of the Third New Republic Battle Group stood upon the bridge of his flagship, the Star Destroyer Consensus, and observed the mess that the Corellians were making of their attack on the Nusiuu Facility.  His slit iris of his eyes, gold flecked with orange, dilated as he took in the scene.  His whiskers perked up, a sign of his amusement, as he turned to his XO.

“They are making a mess of it,” Observed the Cathar Admiral.  “Commodore Tavere has let his arrogance get the better of him.  This little ambush that the locals have laid on has caught him by surprise.”

“Yes, sir,” Agreed Gaeth’s First Officer.  “Though may I suggest, sir, that the transponder codes of those ships are Vast Empire in origin, rather than vessels belonging to Absit itself.”

The Admiral smiled, his catlike features making the gesture seem somewhat predatory.  “Nusiuu lends ships to other Imperial factions all the time.  Seems like the wily locals have high jacked a few VE codes to add some fear to little ambush.”  He waved a furry paw dismissively.  “Trust me, those are not Vast Empire warships,” He said, observing the fighting now taking place within the shipyard’s ring of mines.

“If you say so, sir,” Said the human XO, sounding unconvinced.  “May I ask what action we are going to take?”

Gaeth seemed amused.  “Our orders are to ‘observe’ our Corellian allies,” Said the Republic Admiral, “And I am quite content to watch them make a mess of their little snatch and grab op.  Oh don’t get me wrong, I fully expect Tavere and his people to prevail, but it’s going to be a lot more hassle than the Commodore expected.  However, the Republic could use some new ships too, and the defenders of Nusiuu are doing a fine job of taking out the Corellian boarding craft.”

“Indeed, sir,” Noted the First Officer.  “According to our data, they have taken substantial losses to the Vast Emp... er... Absit fighters.  They no longer have enough shuttles to board and steal all the available capital ships at the Facility.”

“Then we shall send in our own,” Declared Gaeth firmly.  “Launch a dozen, and have then escorted by a full dozen starfighter squadrons.  I am not so careless with our boarding teams as Tavere.”

“Very good, sir.  And the rest of the Battle Group hangs back?”

The Admiral flicked his feline eyes over the thirty warships under his command, mulling it over.  “Yes, the rest of us hold.”

“Launching immediately, sir,” Said the XO, and marched off.

-----

It was a full six minutes later that the situation escalated.  The ships repulsing the Corellians were indeed Vast Empire in origin, but they were far from alone and far from easily dismissed.  For it was that, six minutes after Admiral Gaeth had given his cursory and confident appraisal of the situation, that the rest of the VE forces arrived.

-----

The precision of the armada’s arrival brought a smile to the lips of Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail.  The sight of the 14th Fleet, plus the Adjudicator and the other half of the 2nd Fleet, was as glorious as it was welcome.  Commodore Trykon had brought them out of hyperspace with both perfect placement and perfect timing, and Zail marvelled at his friend’s skill.  Flawlessly executed, just like the rest of the plan.

“They seem surprised,” Noted his First Officer, Eylana Saitroni, looming over the tactical hologram with a wolfish grin he had not seen on her before.  Seems that the cool and composed XO did feel emotion: the thrill of victory got to everyone in the end.

“We haven’t won yet,” Cautioned Serpent, observing the actions of his foes.  The Corellian flagship, transponder listed as the Osprey, was now swinging about to intercept the Adjudicator.  Zail felt a little irked that his own formidable VSD Brilliant was suddenly being ignored, but quickly squashed that thought.  Commodore Trykon had the more powerful vessel and was clearly the biggest threat in the arena of battle.  There were plenty of other targets for Serpent to content his crew with.

Speaking of which...

Zail turned his gaze to the far end of the tactical hologram, and the Republic Fleet hovering there.  What were they doing?  Fleet Intelligence had predicted the presence of the Republic’s Third Battle Group, but as ‘observers’, whatever that meant.  Would they join the fray?  Serpent was unsure, but he had not reached the position he had without expecting trouble and preparing for it.

“Signal the rest of our sleeper ships,” Ordered Zail, referring to those vessels of the 2nd Fleet that had lain in wait at Nusiuu.  “Have them form up on us and solidify our position here,” He said, pointing.  The part of space he gestured to on the map was carefully selected.  If the Republic force neglected to intervene, his force could strike at the Corellians, but if the Republic did make a move, they could easily counter.

He waited to see what the enemy did next.

-----

Admiral Gaeth stared in horror at the arrival of a colossal Imperial armada.  “Those ship were VE after all!” He exclaimed, adding it all up quickly.  “They’ve done a deal with Absit!”

“It appears so, sir,” Said his XO, knowing better than to sounds gloating as he spoke.  “Orders?”

Gaeth’s mind raced.  He knew his orders, had gone over them several times before deploying, in fact, but they had mentioned nothing about engaging any genuine Imperial factions.  Worse, they had come in force, two whole fleets by the look of it.  At once the Admiral realised that this was not simply a force intended to protect, or even ambush.  The Vast Empire armada before him was clearly part of some larger operation or plan, but what?

The Cathar tossed and turned the matter over in his mind.  His orders were to observe, and he was quite willing to sit and observe the Corellians get slaughtered.  Neither his conscience nor his orders would be in any danger from him just hanging back and laughing as Tavere led his fleet to defeat.

And yet...

That the VE meant business was evident.  Could this fleet be on its way to Republic space with designs of conquest?  Perhaps.  And if it was, and he had a chance to face it here and now and maybe slow its advance, should he not take it?

Gaeth owed no loyalty to the Corellians, but he did to the Republic.

“Signal the Battle Group,” He ordered his XO.  “We engage the Vast Empire!”

OOC:

1094 words.  The Republic fleet is about to join the party!

After Action Report:  A post in three parts.  Firstly, Cathar Admiral Gaeth of the Republic watches the Corellians get ambushed, and is rather amused by it.  Then on the Brilliant Serpent watches the arrival of Trykon’s reinforcements and wonders how the Republic force will respond.  Finally, after some internal debate, Admiral Gaeth does indeed order his thirty ships in to attack.

Grent was reminded of the tail chase Strill had been in at the Battle of the Sollamens. They'd been completely without sensors of any kind, as well as no comms. A nightmare scenario, it had been called by some of the officers. The enemy pilots were trained to fly and fight in those conditions, and a standard Vast Empire squadron would be outmatched. But Strill were different from the average fighter squadron, in that a large majority of their training in the cockpit was about solo flying, which had proven to be very effective at Gwadd LK Nale. Indeed, most of Strill had been hand picked for their ability to work well alone. They were still cast offs from the rest of the Navy, and all the pilots that had flown with Strill knew that Naval High Command were not their biggest fans. As far as the powers at be we're concerned, Strill should never have been attempted, and they frequently threw dangerous, and insane, missions their way. As of yet, they hadn't failed. This was their chance to prove themselves. Grent's gut feeling was that if they screwed anything up this mission, he would find himself in another regular squadron.

He shuddered at the thought, as he dodged and weaved through TIE Hunters and X-wings alike, performing every evasive manoeuvre he knew in an attempt to stay alive. Survival was the order of the day. The briefing Joamer had given them to read in hyperspace hadn't revealed much about their mission, though Grent's had had an extra tidbit of information that gave the man an inkling as to the true nature of their mission. It felt more like a job for Naval Intelligence, or even Ozunu Aliit, but then he supposed that Intelligence didn't have their own squadron of commando pilots to utilise, so they had commandeered Strill. Of course, Ozunu hadn't been used due to the fact that didn't actually exist. If VENI ever found out about Ozunu, or Grent's connection to them ...

{#1: They'd kill us for sure.}
{#2: Or hire us.}
"It won't come to that."
{#2: Tracyn would help.} Tracyn was Gur's pet Strill, and had been with him ever since he was born.
{#1: And the project would help.}
"Tinker and I haven't even finished him yet."
{#2: The programming is there.}
"Software won't do him much good if his head isn't on."
{#2: I see your point.}
{#1: Can we get to shooting things now?}
"They're moving far too fast for me to hit."

It was true: the X-wing Squadron (Gur still didn't know who they were from, though he guessed that they were probably New Republic) were incredibly skilled. An elite squadron for sure. The pilots of the enemy craft were working as one, completely in sync with each other, and their space craft. It worried Gur. If Strill were going to stand any chance of winning, they would most definitely have to work as a cohesive unit. He checked the readout on his HUD that displayed the positions of all the craft in the area. Blue for Strill, and Red for enemy. He selected Cresh from the list of filters, and saw three of the blue Hunters suddenly become outlined with a faint green line. He switched channels to the Cresh private comm.

"How are we doing?" He asked. He knew that they were all alive, but the readout didn't show if any of them were damaged.
"A little grazed, but nothing serious," replied Lady, who spoke in an emotionless voice. Gur could tell that she had switched into what she liked to call her 'fight mode': everything was blocked out, save the job at hand. No humour. It was the reason most of Strill thought she was cold hearted, as she only opened up when she was relaxed, and she was only relaxed when she was with Cresh.
"All good here," said Edge, "Don't suppose you could do 'Dha Werda Verda' again, and scare 'em off?" Typical Edge: the joker. Grent and his fellow vode's rendition of that particular battle chant had become legend amongst the 2nd Fleet. One of the crowd had recorded it, and uploaded the holo to the VEN's private HoloTube channel, where it had received thousands of views within hours. The only time Gur had performed it since, was at the memorial service to all those who perished in the battle, including one of the Mandalorians. It had been a sombre performance, and brought Grent and many others to tears.
"Tink?" Gur asked, requesting an update from his newest flight member.
"Help!" came the shrill reply. Grent checked his HUD: the readout showed that he was being chased by at least two X-wings. He and Edge were closest.
"Edge, break off and engage Tink's tail. I've got your six."
"Roger, Top."

Grent flexed his muscles in his hands, feeling the soft fabric that lined the inside of his matte black Storm Commando combat suit. It was designed to mould to his shape, to act as a shock absorber, and as such it was comfortable. Not as comfortable as his Katarn armour, that was currently in his locker, but comfortable never the less. Made flying easier too. As Grent gripped the control column, he remarked at how the armour flexed with his fingers, meaning he wasn't fighting it. What he was fighting, however, was the sweat that occasionally dribbled down over his eyes. Whilst the suit was air cooled, and had a built in temperature control, the heat of battle caused the Mandalorian to perspire. The thought that he might lose one of his flight on his debut mission with them did nothing to help.

Grent looked out of the viewport, and saw Edge diving towards the X-wings, a stream of laser fire heading their way from his laser cannons. The X-wings broke off, and turned to engage their new aggressor, but they hadn't seen Gur yet. The young pilot threw the throttle forwards, and angled his craft downwards, finger poised on the trigger.

{#1: What are you waiting for? Shoot them!}
{#2: He's waiting for a clear shot.}
{#1: If you could see what I could see, you would know that ...}
{#2: We can all see what you can see.}

I truth, Grent was watching the X-wings, to try to predict their movements. Once he thought he knew where they would be by the time his laser discharge arrived, he took aim, and fired a short burst, the green lasers soaring through the empty space, past X-wing and Hunter alike. It looked like they were going to hit the cockpit of the lead X-wing, but at the last moment, he peeled off, the lasers shooting past him. Grent started to groan, and pursue his opponent, when a small explosion caught his eye. His shot had hit a target: the other X-wing. In his attempt to dodge the incoming fire, the pilot had thrown his wing into the path of the deadly lasers, and they tore through it, taking out one of the laser cannons. The fighter was still flyable, but it was slightly crippled. A few more minor victories like that, and Strill might just survive to fight another day ....

OOC:

WC: 1211 (Yay! Over 1000!)

AAR: Pew pew pew. Pew. Pew pew pew pew. Bang.

OOC:

CR90 ‘Defiance’ – Before Arriving at Absit.

“This is your Captain speaking …”

The voice of CO Mike Flynn over the ship wide intercom caused everything to stop aboard the small patrol and anti-starfighter vessel. They had been doing a patrol of a local area, near to the 2nd Fleet staging area, when a priority message from the Naval High Command had been received.

“We’ve been ordered to return to the Fleet, and make battle preparations. I am not at liberty to reveal our destination at this time, but this ship is now at General Quarters.”

As the Skipper finished his briefing, a klaxon sounded, and lights flashed, as the pre-recorded voice echoed throughout the ship: “General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands, man your battle stations. General Quarters, all hands.” Crew members idling in the mess suddenly jumped to their feet, and rushed out of the door. The cooks in the galley hurried about busily, securing all the pots and pans, and stacking the utensils away. Down in engineering, there was a mass of movement, as each man checked, and double checked, over his part of the machinery. The Gunnery deck was in a similar state, as the gun crews tested their turrets and targeting systems. In the medical bay, Master Chief Petty Officer Rick Patel performed last minute checks over the medical supplies. A similar story was repeated over the ship, as each department checked in:

“Engineering ready.”
“Comms ready.”
“Med bay ready.”
“Galley ready.”
“Damage Control ready.”
“Missile Control ready.”
“Gunnery ready.”
“Bridge ready.”
“Nav? Take us to the Fleet,” said Flynn to his Astrogator, Nikki Caetano.
“Aye, sir,” replied Caetano. She then turned to the Helmsman and Co-pilot, “Helm, come to heading 250.”
“250, aye.”

The ship banked heavily, as it turned almost 180 degrees, and headed towards the Fleet…

OOC:

Adjudicator – Briefing Just Finished.

Flynn and his XO, Kate McGregor, walked through the corridors of the flagship of the Second Fleet. It was big: too big for Flynn’s taste. He liked the smaller patrol vessels, and had no intention of leaving the Defiance for a bigger command. He felt closer to his crew: the men and women he had to depend on, and trust that they would do their jobs in the heat of battle. He knew each and every one of their names, where they were from, and a whole range of other facts, and not from reading the crew files.

Kate was a different story. She had spent her entire career on the bigger capital ships, until her CO had offered her the choice to go to the Defiance to broaden her skill base. It was merely a career boost, or so she had thought. In fact, she had finished her required time aboard the small Corellian Corvette, and even had been given a glowing recommendation that would have almost assured her an XO position on a larger vessel. However, much to Flynn’s surprise and delight, she had decided to stay a little while longer. The smaller ships gave something that the large ships didn’t. She knew every inch of the Defiance, which was a virtually impossible achievement to get on something like the Adjudicator. Kate doubted that Commodore Trykon even knew half of the ship in detail.

They had been tasked with Lieutenant Commander Zail’s half of the fleet, and were to play as one of the dead ships in the Docks, until ordered to attack. It would be tough. The Defiance were going to be on anti-starfighter and bomber duty, trying to minimise the amount of enemy craft that made it past the Vast Empire’s own starfighters. It was the most important job that Flynn had been given in his career. As the Commodore had pointed out himself, their performance in the fight against the Imperial Dominion was exemplary. Every member of the crew had received the Combat Achievement Ribbon for it, and Flynn had been presented with the Merit Cross, First Class, for his initiative in coming to the aid of the fighters at Death’s asteroid. Yes: they were a good crew. Morale was high. The only thing that worried Flynn, was that there was a good number of Corellians aboard, and he didn’t know how they were going to take fighting their fellows …

OOC:

WC: 714

AAR: A bit of NPC character development, set before the fleet actually arrives at Absit. The CO is worried, however, about the contingent of Corellians aboard his ship, and doesn't know how they will respond.

“They are coming,” Said Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail, eyes glued to the tactical hologram before him, “But slowly.”

His XO nodded in agreement, studying the path of the Republic Third Battle Group as they approached the mine field surrounding the Nusiuu Facility.  Inside the ring of sensor-rigged explosives the battle was raging, as the Corellians and the Vast Empire fought amid the scaffolds and repairs docks of the shipyards.

“The Republic commander is either very wary of the mines, sir,” Observed Saitroni, “Or he is reluctant to engage a force as large as ours.”

Zail agreed with the analysis.  “He’s hoping that the Corellians will wear us out, and he can come in and finish us.”  Serpent paused for a moment as he considered his own statement.  “Interesting.  While sensible, it’s hardly a noble approach, and hardly appropriate behaviour for allies.  The Republic commander, I feel, has no great love for the Corellians.”

“And if that view is held among members of the Republic military leadership?” Ventured the First Officer, intrigued by the implications.

“Then our impending war with Corellia becomes that much easier,” Concluded Zail.  He then shook the thought away and focused instead on the task at hand.  “A matter for Intelligence,” He said, “Whereas for now we have other concerns.  The Corellian ships are already engaging ours, so let’s focus on crushing them before the Republic ships arrive.  Bring the ship about seventeen degrees to port, twenty three point five degrees declination, and make for that CC-7700 frigate.”

“Aye, sir,” Said Saitroni, spotting the nearby Corellian vessel that was already heading for them.  The transponder ID listed the vessel as the Emeraldine, and the First Officer barked out a few quick orders to the crew.  Within moments the VSD Brilliant angled its massive bulk towards the frigate and moved to attack.

“Odd numbered weapons batteries, target the Emeraldine’s engines!” Ordered Zail, turning from the hologram and marching to the centre of the command deck.  “Even numbered batteries target the bridge.  Hold fire until I give the order!”

“Yes, sir, targeting and holding,” Said his highly competent Weapons Chief, Kol Yandeer.

Serpent strode back to the front of the bridge, looking through the massive viewport at the granite-grey and somewhat blocky vessel headed towards them.  An inelegant design, he observed, a reflection that Corellian Engineering tended to stress function over form.  No doubt the Kuati among the VE (such as Commodore Trykon and Zail’s own XO), with their own fine shipbuilding tradition, would have a lot to say about the Corellians and their approach to warship construction.

“Range two klicks and closing!” Came the range update from the Sensor Chief.

“All stop!  Cut engines and redirect power to shields!” Ordered Zail to Saitroni, who instantly relayed the order.

The Brilliant came to a stop, but the Emeraldine kept coming, trying to bring itself alongside the Star Destroyer in order to launch a broadside.

“Weapons range!” Cried the Sensor Chief.

“Even-numbered weapons, fire!” Commanded Serpent, and an instant later his face was lit up by the reflected light of bright green turbolaser fire.  Meanwhile the CC-7700 opened up with its own formidable array of cannons, and the furious exchange grew chaotic within moments.  Deflectors blazed into luminescent blue life, as each vessel tried to withstand pummelling laid upon it.  The shots from the Brilliant splashed against the shielding around the Emeraldine’s bridge, which were suddenly reinforced to protect the precious command crew within.

Zail let the shots rain down upon them for a solid thirty seconds, and the decided that the time was right to strike.

“Odd-numbered weapons, fire!” Bellowed Serpent, not even looking towards his Weapons Chief and watching instead the arcs of green in the space beyond his window.  Despite the tumultuous criss-crossing of fire, he could still pick out the sudden shift in the angles of attack, as his gunners zeroed in on the engineering section of the CC-7700.

A few shots got through, for the shields there had been weakened by being redirected to the bridge.  Turbolaser blasts tore into the hull and set off minor explosions, venting atmosphere and Corellian crewmen into space.  However, there was no big bang, no lethal connection with the engines themselves, and a moment later the Brilliant’s shots ceased getting through, halted by a sudden reinforcement of shields in that part of the Emeraldine.

Serpent grimaced, irked that his plan had failed, but Saitroni was at his side at once.  “Target the bridge first to draw their shields, then punch at the engines,” She observed.  “A good plan, sir,” Said the Kuati, impressed.

“Not good enough,” Said Zail, “But I have other tricks up my sleeve.”  And so saying, he moved swiftly to the tactical display and, deftly manipulating the controls, zoomed in on the Emeraldine’s hologram.  Data overlaid the enlarged image, a mix of records on the basic CC-7700 frigate design and sensor observations of this particular ship itself.  All in all it gave Serpent a fairly complete look at his foe.

“What are you looking for, sir?” Asked Saitroni, curious.  Serpent glanced at her, and then back to the display, suppressing a smile.  He had seen the look on his First Officer’s face before.  Zail had worn that look often himself in his own XO days, back when he had served under the famous Captain Dracule ‘Drac’ Mihawk.  It was the look of admiration and wonder, an eagerness to learn from the best.  Serpent was flattered to be looked on that way, and wondered if he was truly worthy of it.

He was about to answer, but a particularly destructive hit knocked the Brilliant and forced them both to stagger or lose their footing.  Zail snarled and barked, “Damage report!”

“Direct hit to deck 6!” Came the reply.  “Shields strengthened in response and are now holding at 79%!”

“All gunners fire at will!” Ordered Serpent, trying to distract the enemy while he came up with a new angle of attack.  Turning back to his XO, he said, “Look at the image, Eylana,” He told her.  “Look at their power usage!  That ship is small and powerful, but over-gunned for its size.”

She studied the readouts and saw what he was getting at.  “So how do we use that, sir?” She asked.

Zail’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin.  “Watch and learn, XO...”

OOC:

1054 words.  The first of two planned posts of a capital ship on capital ship battle.

After Action Report:  Zail decides to focus on the Corellians until the Republic force arrives, and takes the Brilliant in to attack the CC-7700 frigate Emeraldine.  His first angle of attack involves drawing their shields to the bridge and then striking at the Corellian vessel’s engineering section, but it fails.  Now, Serpent and his XO, Eyalana Saitroni, study a readout of the Emeraldine and the Captain has a plan...

The turbolaser cannons along the hull of the Brilliant flashed in the reflected light of their own fire, the green shots and orange explosions causing the steel to glint.  Each weapon was a work of art, finely crafted and lovingly maintained to the peak of deadly form and efficiency.

The barrel of the colossal weapons shifted with precise and calculated moves.  Down three degrees.  Across eleven degrees.  Over-compensate.  Adjust back one degree.

The gunners at their stations were careful and exacting, each man aiming the nozzle of his cannon at the precise spot on the enemy ship that their superior ordered.  No wild shots, no wasted energy.  Every blast had to count.

Angles and targeting data were fed back to Niles Drafef, junior gunner on the Brilliant, who double checked to be certain of his shot.  He knew not why the Captain had ordered him to attack that one specific spot of the Corellian warship known as the Emeraldine, but Drafef knew that understanding was not a prerequisite for obedience.

He had his orders, and he carried them out.  Receive data, confirm, adjust cannon, check angles, confirm, and finally fire.

He squeezed the controls, and the weapon roared into life.  A string of laser fire erupted from the cannon, leaving a trail of green reaching from the Star Destroyer to its CC-7700 frigate rival.

The blasts hit the foe’s shields, which strained with a bright swell of light and heat, but in the end held firm against Drafef’s barrage.

The gunner suppressed a primal growl of anger and irritation.  This exchange had dragged on for ten minutes with no resolution in sight.  He was about to squeeze the trigger and try again, but the microphone in his helmet (a delicate piece of tech full of firing data on a Heads Up Display) blared into life.

“Odd numbered gunners, switch target!” Came the voice of Gunnery Chief Kol Yandeer, and a moment later Drafef’s HUD scrolled a new series of target coordinates.

The junior gunner sighed, already weary, but fought on.  This time, he thought, this time we’ll get it!

And with that thought he began to re-adjust the targeting of the turbolaser and begin the routine again.

-----

On the bridge of the Brilliant, the crew rocked and swayed under the sustained assault from the Emeraldine.  Captain Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail gripped the edge of the tactical hologram projection table, determined to avoid an embarrassing fall on his own command deck.

His blue eyes were locked on the readouts of the enemy vessel.  “It’s working!” He declared, observing the figures scrolling before him, showing shield strength and power usage throughout the frigate.

“Why are their energy distribution systems responding like that?” Asked his XO, Eylana Saitroni.  She had witnessed her CO carefully order strikes at different points along the Emeraldine, forcing their foe to shift shield power back and forth frequently.  She had assumed that the shields would hold well under such an ill-focused attack, but no.  The CC-7700 was instead on the brink of total deflector failure.

Serpent smiled.  “You forget, I am an accomplished Engineer, and I happen to know how fragile the energy transfer systems are on that design.”  He neglected to mention, of course, that he had studied common Corellian vessel schematics prior to this engagement, and had happened to read up on the CC-7700 design.  Let her and the rest of the crew believe that he had an encyclopaedic knowledge of all warships.  “They are notoriously inefficient,” He said, “And cannot handle constant shunting back and forth around the ship.  Every time they redirect shield power they lose a little.  And now they are finding, too late, that they can’t maintain deflector integrity anymore.”

“Impressive, sir,” Said Saitroni, as the Brilliant rocked under another ferocious barrage from the Emeraldine.  “But they aren’t going down quietly!” She declared.

“Too late for them!” Said Zail with delight, as he witnessed several of their shots breaking through the strained shields of their foe and ripping into the hull.

“Their shields are failing!” Declared Weapons Chief Kol Yandeer.

“Hit them with everything!” Ordered Serpent at once, feeling the thrill of victory rushing through him.  “Focus fire on their engines!  Punch through!”

The gunners of the Brilliant seemed almost eager in their compliance with his command, and clearly they were frustrated with the lengthy wearing down of the Emeraldine’s defences.  Blazing neon green shots converged on the rear quarter of the Corellian frigate, hammering the hull with a series of devastating blasts.

Within moments the target lost structural integrity, and a massive internal explosion spelled its end.  A scant few escape pods blew clear of the dying vessel, but its demise was too quick in coming for many of the personnel to be saved.  As the Emeraldine detonated in a blinding blast of light (silent in the void of space) a cheer erupted from the crew of the Brilliant.  Zail also savoured the victory, and allowed his crew their momentary lapse of discipline.

Eylana Saitroni, however, did not.

“Settle down, people!” Snapped the First Officer.  “This battle isn’t over yet!  Send repair teams to the damaged areas and get our shield strength back up!”

“Well said, XO,” Said Serpent, watching her drive the crew back into activity.  There was a brutal efficiency about her that he admired, and Zail once again knew that he had chosen well in appointing her.  “There is still a way to go before victory, so let’s get back into the fight,” And so saying he returned the tactical display to its default setting of showing the entire engagement zone.

Surveying the area, he saw that the Corellian fleet was still bunched up from when they came through the mine field, and was refusing to be drawn into the open to fully engage with the Vast Empire armada.  Serpent considered this a wise tactic, and one that he wanted to undo quickly before the enemy’s Republic reinforcements arrived.

He narrowed his eyes at a portion of the Corellian fleet, made up mostly of corvettes and small frigates.  I’ll punch a hole through there, he decided...

OOC:

1018 words.  And this concludes my capital ship versus capital ship encounter.

After Action Report:  Serpent exploits an energy transfer inefficiency in the CC-7700 design in order to weaken the shields of the Corellian frigate Emeraldine and destroy it.  He is now looking at the formation of the Corellian fleet and wishes to destabilise it before the Republic arrives to assist their foe.

OOC:

This was written quickly (during my accounting class, actually), and hasn't been thoroughly edited, etc. So it may change somewhat in the details. Let me know if you notice anything glaring.

Sitting in his command chair, Drac forced his restlessness down, burying it under an adamant slab of well-aged discipline. His new crew, such as it was, was still trickling onto the ship. The process might be slower than he’d prefer, but that was no excuse for him to dampen already-tenuous morale by adding even more uncertainty into the situation. The hardware they flew into battle might be what made space combat possible, but even out here crew morale was truly the critical determining factor for any military force. In their current situation, the point could only be emphasized: their crew was uncertain, dis-unified, and untested. Their ship’s state of maintenance was almost completely unknown as well. In such an atmosphere it could be almost too easy for morale to crumble and defeatism to set in. On the other hand, if he managed morale well, an expectation of victory could set in. And the expectation of victory would breed victory once battle was joined.

So he took a breath of the pleasantly humidified air and pushed himself to his feet. Time to greet the new bridge crew. There were questions to be answered, authority to be delegated, and assurances to be expressed. One new officer would bear particular attention: one Thrist Gaian, the new Chief Weapons Officer. The man had just been rush-graduated from the Academy and would doubtlessly be utterly overwhelmed and floundering. Given the situation they were about to jump into, Drac needed him confident and steady despite his inexperience.

‘A trial by fire, hmm? Not like I’ve ever run into such a situation before…’ Drac mused to himself, with not a little sardonic amusement coloring the thought.

~~~~~

Thrist Gaian tried to steady his breathing as he rode the turbolift up the command tower of the Halcyon Warrior. He’d tossed his gear into the room assigned to him without even flicking the lights on and had immediately made for the bridge. His breath was still coming a little roughly from hurrying, but the tightness in his chest and belly had plenty to do with nervousness also.

The turbolift doors hissed open and Thrist stepped onto the Star Destroyer’s bridge, looking around with wide eyes. His gaze met that of a Mon Calamari officer, easily the darkest-skinned member of that race that he’d ever met. He recognized the man from holos he’d seen: this was his new commander, Captain Mihawk. The Captain waved him forward, and Thrist’s boots rang steadily on the deck as he approached. He stopped a meter or two away and saluted smartly, “Cade…err. Thrist Gaian reporting for duty, sir.”

Mihawk returned the salute, then nodded, “As you were, Mr. Gaian. As for your rank, let’s call it Brevet Ensign for now.”

“Aye, sir.”

The Mon Calamari motioned for Thrist to accompany him, then turned and began pacing forward to the main viewports, “This has to be somewhat overwhelming, Mr. Gaian. Believe me- I’ve been in your shoes before. But the fact is that you’re the most capable person available. I’m relying on you. So speak freely.”

They halted upon reaching the viewport and the young human swallowed, “I’ll do my best, sir. It’s just…I’m not sure, sir. I know the theory, of course, but I can’t think theory will match reality very well.”

One side of the Mon Calamari’s mouth quirked up in a small grin, “What confidence you have in the Academy.” When Thrist tried to sputter out a panicked apology, Mihawk just shook his head, “Relax, Ensign. I apologize- I tend to be rather more informal than some officers. I’m actually quite pleased that you doubt your Academy education. You’ll find that you’re right- training is good, but it’s worth only so much. Real battles are never the same, and the hundredth is as insane and intimidating as the first. Every soldier on this bridge, on this ship, must go into this battle with their eyes wide open and ready to react to situations they never could have anticipated- myself included. I can do little more than that myself and I can ask little more than that from anyone else.” The Mon Calamari turned to face Thrist directly, “Your scores are good, Mr. Thrist, and you seem to be a steady person. Keep your eyes open and your effort focused and you’ll do just fine. If you need anything, I or our XO will be available to assist you.”

Thrist saluted, relieved, “Aye, Captain.”

“Very good. Your station is just port of my command chair. Please familiarize yourself with it and begin running diagnostics. I want to know about any problems before they happen.”

~~~~~

Five hours later the Halcyon Warrior had become a buzzing hive of activity. Supplies, equipment, and armaments flowed through the corridors, bound for storage rooms and ready stations. Crewmen rushed back and forth, finding their lodgings and getting their duty stations in order. Consoles scrolled screen after screen of diagnostics and status reports. Intermittent vibrations ran through the hull as the engines finished their warm-up and testing cycles.

On the bridge, industrious calm reigned. Drac stood in his ready room just off the bridge, examining multiple displays as he monitored the ship’s status. The bridge crew, now complete, worked diligently as they neared the end of their lists of the most critical tasks to be completed. After a moment a tone rang out. Drac tilted his head slightly, then keyed in his acceptance code for the incoming transmission. A moment later Admiral Stormz appeared on his main holoprojector display. Mihawk saluted, “Admiral.”

The wookiee returned the salute, growling out, “[Captain. Report.]”

Drac nodded, “Aye, sir. The Warrior was restless, it seems. The diagnostics are showing green in most every case and we’ve encountered no major problems.”

“[When will you be ready to rendezvous with my taskforce?]”

Glancing to one side to confirm a status report, Drac replied, “We should….yes. If necessary we can depart immediately. Engines and shield emitters are operational and all critical personnel and materials are aboard.”

“[Good. Your Chief Navigator will receive directions to the rendezvous point momentarily.]” Stormz nodded slightly, then gave Drac a very direct look, “[Give me your honest appraisal: how would you rate the Warrior’s combat capabilities at this point in time?]”

The dark-skinned amphibian frowned, considering, “It’s hard to know for sure, given all the unknown variables we’re facing, sir. Compared to her performance in her last major action? Between fifty and seventy percent.”

“[Hmm. Better than might be expected, but not ideal by any means. I’ll want you to stay close.]”

Drac frowned again, slightly stung, “With all due respect, sir, that’s a waste. As I noted, we’ll need the Warrior’s guns in the fight.”

The wookiee admiral raised an eyebrow, “[Watch your tone, Mr. Mihawk. You don’t have the room for that attitude right now. We don’t have so many Imperial-II Star Destroyers that we can afford to casually lose one to recklessness. I’m of half a mind to throw you in the brig already- put that ship into unnecessary risk against my orders and you can be certain that I will.]”

Mihawk’s back stiffened in anger and his voice gained an icy edge, “Very well, sir. I’ll do what it takes to preserve our men and equipment.” ‘Whatever it takes,’ he added silently, ‘Both on my ship and on others, regardless of whether you like it or not.’

When the conversation ended, Drac stepped out onto the bridge and issued orders for the ship to get under way. The deck vibrated and tension rose in the air as the Halcyon Warrior pulled away from its dock for the first time in months. The crew was nervous, but excited. They knew action awaited and were eager to see what their new ship could do. The storied history of the craft didn’t hurt either. Drac let them feel it, sitting silently in his command chair. He kept his face neutral, slightly contemplative. Of course, most wouldn’t know enough about his race to see his anger anyway. But as the Halcyon Warrior finally got under way, her captain brooded.

OOC:

Word Count: 1,350

AAR: The Halcyon Warrior readies itself to deploy and Drac meets with his bridge crew and with his new Chief Weapons Officer in particular, seeking to instill confidence. Stormz contacts him and orders the Warrior to rendezvous with him, but sets limits what Drac can do. The conflict between the two deepens, with Drac reacting in uncharacteristic anger. Then the ship departs, ready (at least somewhat) to join the battle.