Shazam sat up on the bunk suddenly, the flashing chrono still bleating its harshest alarm in the darkness of his cabin.  For a moment the commander felt the urge to simply untense and drop back into the comfort of his blankets, but then reason caught up with him- You're not dreaming- get up...  Letting out a groan of frustration, the commander sprang from his bed with as much energy as he could muster- getting up slowly or rolling off could result in the temptation of going back to sleep.  This was the only way...

Flicking on the light to the cabin, the commander closed his eyes and searched for the sources of the light while his eyelides remained closed.  Staring at the invisible energy output for a moment, Shazam lowered his eyes and opened them slowly- this was his process of awaking to sharp, white, imperial light...  And for the last three weeks it'd been one hell of a project getting up whenever necessary.  Usually, when a pilot is given vacation, they tend to catch up on sleep and get themselves into the rhythm so they can go back to work refreshed, revitalized- happy!  The vacation he'd taken roughly a month ago had resulted in the severe brain injury of his XO, the salvage of his uncle's lost ship and the general lack of communication within his squadron.  He'd put them in direct danger without revealing to them the true threat raised against them- a powerful group known as the Ruvetrack Adero had gone out of thier way to extinguish them in an attempt to gain a single object...

Shazam rubbed his forhead and let his hand slide down the side of his face, revealing the presence of stubble.  Good to see at least one things periodic around here...  The commander smiled despite the fact he'd had little to no sleep since the night they escaped Forman II- he'd had yet to reveal whatever it was aboard his uncle's ship, the Seroster, that had been such a prime specimen for the Ruvetrack Adero.  But even that seemed distant in comparison to the little stunt above the planet Messari...

Putting on a pair of black pants and a long sleeved shirt of tough fabric, Shazam ran his hand through his hair a couple of times to make sure it wasn't falling out.  Moving to the refresher he caught sight of himself in the mirror, quickly challenging the quirks he outright ignored about himself on a daily basis.  The eyes are blue this morning- excellent...  Going to work on his chin, the commander went about extracting the early morning beard, his thought process running all the while.

Porcema wasn't sooo bad...  She'd been entertaining enough at the academy- that was most certainly true...  Never the less...  When Aegis and Nazgul had merged they'd been brought in for a proper meeting aboard the Strike-Class cruiser Faseo, a ship that would fall under attack by NR forces and be forced to escape in a drastic maneuver above the planet Messari.  This had resulted in the renunciation of Porcema's command as well as her execution, Art's rise in command, Shazam's aquitted court marshall, and the addition of a former High Admiral to the ranks of Nazgul.  Since then, it'd been clock-work, patrols and re-assignments across the entirety of VE territory...

Shazam returned to his bed and wondered where he'd set tomarrow's clothing line-up...  Great job security though...  In the last few weeks he'd seriously considered his role in the Vast Empire Navy and had asked on more than one occasion if he really needed to be there...  Perhaps it was time to move on?  And pilots thought they had it bad- don't complain...  Don't complain...  Just how he ended every argumentitive conversation with himself...

There was a bleep at the door and Shazam rolled his head toward the bane of his existance...  Back to work...  Slipping on the real flight suite now, the commander went to the door and clicked the access, the smooth white frame revealing the figure of a bridge peon...

"You're requested at the helm, sir!"  I wonder how much sleep he gets...  Usually he'd take these problems with the Imperial way out on Arturus, the supposed expert, and/or source with unbiased facts on how things 'should' be...  He was gone though- his little stunt aboard the Faseo had pushed his application for a ship job immedietly- the the High Council was very impressed by his initiative...  That or they felt obligated too- Shazam wasn't ready to lean either way.

"Of course..."  Shazam gave the bridgeman a half-way decent salute as he zipped the uppermost portion of his flight suite slightly.  Should have worn the jacket- now I'm going to get slapped around for forgetting to remind people of my rank...

The walk to the bridge of the Corellian corvette Flight was  a short one, but Shazam wished it would have gone on longer- he'd do anything for any time off now...  No matter how much he complained to himself he realized how good things really were- things were hectic but he could deal with it...  He was that good...

The double doors to the bridge opened wide and revealed the Flight's high staff; Shazam stifled a yawn.  "Liuetenant!"  The commander of the ship, a middle aged man with brown hair and eyes, going by the name 'Galli' for as long as Shazam could remember, held an accepting and comforting smile and a serious history of kicking butt as he ushered Shazam into the briefing area.  "We've been waiting for you- did your chrono malfunction?  We'll have it fixed immedietly..."  He snapped his fingers at the young man who'd just gotten done escorting Shazam to the bridge, then pulled the commander to a chair amongst the other four officials on-board.  To his right was Will, commander of Kaph Squadron and a fairly experienced member of the Vast Empire Navy- a good pilot if nothing else.  Directly ahead were the two men that Galli somehow depended on in the event of a batle, and to his left was the weapons officer onboard- a fairly aggressive man Shazam had only crossed once, but the man was older and probably more qualified to hold his position than the captain fo his...

"If you'll take a seat we'll begin..."  Begin what?  Hand me the patrol assignment...  Shazam sat...  "Today your wing, commander, will be sent to the far regions of VE Space between Requis and the Weadeem sector.  You're to help secure the region in the case of an attack by NR forces..."  Oh not one of these...  For the last three weeks he'd been doing patrols, which was aweful, but actually getting sent out to thin out the lines covering the entirety of VE space- you couldn't move...  Patrols weren't barelly even alowed for fear that some portion of space would remain uncovered when an attack suddenly capsized the entire VE!  Shazam nodded with a smile and let the commander continue-

"You'll be assigned to this region for approximately two months unless further orders tell you otherwise.  We'll not be escorting you, nor carrying you for this trip- your wing will be equipped with TIE Advanced fighters to carry you to your destination: from there you will be housed by the local naval force..."  Which could mean good food...  "This, of course, is because of the surge toward the core- we can't let ourselves be caught off guard when we have so little people to protect our own sectors..." Will exchanged a look with Shazam before the two of them nodded in modest agreement.

"When do we leave, Galli?"  Shazam rolled his eyes to make sure they were still working as the commander continued-

"As soon as you're ready to depart- you may do so.  The local naval force awaits your arrival."  He glanced from Will to Shazam before saying- "Any further questions?"  The commanders kept silent as Galli added- "You'll have your specific coords in each of these datafiles and any other information you'll need- I suggest you get your people together, breif 'em, and get a move on..."

Shazam and Will answered in unison- "Yes, Sir..."  A moment later they were out of the little white room, away from the mute companions of Galli as well as the hospital like feel of his office.  Will was the first to speak, stating- "At least we'll have some chance of seeing some action...  I'm sure these new recruits are anxious to get thier chance..."

"As they all are- give 'em a couple of weeks," Shazam said brusquelly.  Will didn't seem to take offence though, saying instead-

"Yea well- maybe they won't have too...  I've been kind of thinking what it'd be like if we took the core- like in a couple of days...  Real short like..."  Shazam clicked the access on the turbolift as Will continued...  "Peace in the next week?  I know its insane but I can't help marvelling at the idea- its a fantastic ideal to work toward..."

Shazam shrugged and managed before the lift doors closed- "I'll be happy if our plans involve sleep..."

(Alright- not really a blockbuster post, but it was aimed more at Shazam's attitude toward the predicament the VE is in- he feels kind of like things are dragging on and that the next mission is going to be as uneventful as the last three weeks- and he'll just keep losing sleep.  What I'd like everyone to do is get an opening post about what affects the last few weeks have been like to them- everyone but us and a few other guardian forces are moving toward the core while we act like we're working for the welfare of our system...  Again- a bit bitter, but Shazam is kind of rethinking his career.  What're your characters feeling like?  Each flight needs to get a mini-plot going for them, so perhaps this is a good place to start.  Maybe we could already establish conflict- either way we need to set things up- so talk things over with your FMs.  Furthermore, make sure you're stating what that miniplot is on the discussion thread here in the Naval Story Net.  And questions can be stated there as well, or they can be forwarded to your commander and we can use the CoC to get things figured out.  I really hope you enjoy this little mini-competition, but I also hope you learn something about getting to work as a flight as well as a thing or two about your characters.  Rock ON!)
 
-----------------------
*Flash Was Here...*

SC/CMD Shazam/Nazgul 1-1/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN (=A=) (=*SA*=) (=*MA*=) (=*FOCE*=) [LoM] [LSM] [VC:S] [DSM]

NazgulSquadron

Commander of Nazgul Squadron, Phoenix Wing and Training

Cyleaf sat up in bed, the alarm had woken him from some dream he couldn't nor didn't want to remember. Sweat glistened on his horned head, reaching to turn off the annoying beeping his hand visibly shook.

Sitting up in bed Cy shuddered as if ice had run down his back but the room was warm. Why do I have this feeling of foreboding, it's as if something was going to happen. Shaking the thoughts from his head another beeping startled him. The sound was more gentle and beckoning instead of the wrathful alarm earlier, looking over to the night stand he saw his datapad's screen flashing. Standing up and grabbing the datapad the Zabrak walked over towards the small fridge, he poured himself some blue milk and waited for the device to receive the message.

Incoming Mail
Downloading commencing

Cy took a drink from the cold refreshing milk and watched the progress bar slide its way up to 100%. The message appeared upon the screen.

Chief Petty Officer Cyleaf Aehait,
            This official message is to inform you of a recent change in your squadron position. You are still assigned to Ensign Willtconq's Kaph Squadron, but you now report to your immediate supervisor Warrant Officer 2nd Class Than Sion. You will now fly as Kaph 6. You are ordered to report to Willtconq's office for further briefing and information.
  Best of luck and Rock on,
    Commander Shazam Money

Cyleaf went over to the chair at his desk and sat down; he read Shazam's words over again. Looking over at the bunk that used to belong to Krius, the young Human had grown on him but he was no longer with Kaph's active pilots. Krius had forgone active duty at least for now and had become a weekend warrior or pilot in this instance. Though he would see him once a month Cy had regretted when the kid informed him of his decision. It was not more than one day since they had been back.

Two friends, yes two of them he had lost in the span of seven months. Dodger, his first good friend since the loss of his parents had given up his life for he inexperienced Zabrak at Remis Seven. The other Krius was new to the squadron but quickly bombarded his way through Cy's armor and the two became friends. The only bright aspect so far was Crystal, an engineer division leader that had joined him on his squadron's vacation. Crystal was somewhat distance these past days since their return, the fighting and bloodshed at the Rebel's base had disheartened her.

Putting the datapad down Cyleaf walked over and undressed in front of the refresher, stepping in he let the warm water wash away the sleepiness. His dream still bothered him deep down inside as if he was forgetting something important. Drying off Cy dressed in his flight suit and proceeded to Will's office as instructed.

Than wasn't a bad guy, they had covered each other well in the jungle when Gilmen's men had tried to kill them. The other had even shot the snake before it could strike him again, but that wasn't anything like the legendary team of Kal and Than. How could we possibly reach the cohesion that those two had, it was almost as if they could read each other's mind.

It was almost as if he could feel that ice radiate from his spine and spread out over his body like armor. Things had happened too fast and numerous that all he could think to do was return to who he was before at the Academy, his relations with others was surly going to suffer. Stopping at Will's officer the Zabrak knocked twice, Than came to the door as it slide open, they stood face to face for a brief moment the tension could be felt.

It was obvious to Cy that Than had some resignations about their partnership as well, in the jungle on Imous III he had tried to talk to Goltred but the man had gotten wounded. It was going to take awhile before these two bought each other Corellian Ales.

"Come on in Cy and have a seat, Will just wants to go over some things with us about Flight 2." Nodding the Zabrak followed the other to a chair, Will sitting behind his desk. Crossing his fingers together Willtconq leaned forward just as the door whooshed shut.

 
-----------------------
EFM/CPO/Cyleaf Aehait/Kaph 2-6/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[BWC]

AKA:
TRP/PFC Preditor/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/VE/Tadath

The alarm went off but without purpose.  A swift hand silenced the irritating nose.  Than Sion had been up already for three hours now, just sitting on the edge of his cot.  He had many things on his mind, too many for sleep to push away easily.  It was literally like he went on vacation as a simple pilot and left as a flight leader.  But that was only one part of the chaos in his mind.  With his promotion also came the loss of Demonic as his wing man.  The deadly duo of Kaph Squadron was no more.  He cut his loses and tried to get to know his new wingman, Goltred, only for the man to get shot by NR insurgent forces. 

I can do better with my time than wallow in self pity, thought Sion.  You are a flight leader now, you have responsibilities to fulfill.  So he started up his black data pad in the name of doing something productive.  He saw that he had a message from Will and checked it immediately.

Warrant Officer 2nd Than Sion
    Report to my office for the official briefing on your new position.
Ensign Willtconq

It was a short but to the point.  He had known about his promotion since the beginning of their ill fated vacation but hadn't been told much more about it.  Now was the time where that position becomes more than a title.  Even though will wasn't one of those commanders with a stick up his rear ends, he still didn't want to look like crap.  So he headed for the refresher where he washed and shaved his face and then combed his hair.  He put on his flawless, black uniform and then slipped his polished boots over the legs of his trousers.  He finished it all off with his black cap that was perfectly perched on his head.  He may be experiencing a lot of stress right now but he wasn't going to show it to the rest of the world.

When he knocked on Will's office door, it opened for him.  Will looked up with a grin on his face.

"Take a seat, Than, so we can begin this discussion," said Will motioning with his hand.  Sion took his seat and waited for Will to continue.  There was no need for a salute for Will didn't care for such formalities.  "You already know that you now bear the responsibility of leading flight two, but what that consists of hasn't been clear until now.  With Krius' recent transfer to the reserves and Goltred's hospitalization, that pretty much leaves just you.  So I have taken the liberty of transferring Cyleaf to your flight as your wingman."

Cyleaf, Cyleaf, Cyleaf, Sion processed this information.  Cyleaf wasn't a bad pilot, the Zabrak had pulled off some amazing stuff in the past.  It wasn't like they hadn't worked together before either.  It just felt like everybody but Kal was just a substitute.  They just had a connecting that made them a force to be reckoned with.

"Than, I am not going to pretend that I don't know what is going through your head right now.  I hated having to break you and Demonic up, but it was the only way that we could continue to use your capabilities to the fullest.  You never know, the three of you could become something great."

Three?

"I guess I forgot to mention that you have a recruit fresh out of the academy that will be joining you and Cyleaf.  His name is Blake Hymen and he seems to already have a reputation to go along with it.  He is very bright, excellent grades, but he also has some what of a problem with authority.  Take a look at his portfolio and tell me what you think."

Will wasn't kidding when he said good grades, these were at least as good as his if not better and he had studied with a vengeance.  But the shock of this went down when he started reading the recruits "rap sheet."

"Oh boy," Sion replied to one of the reports he was reading, "he actually had the nerve to correct one of his instructors on a grammar mistake.  Don't they make you scrub the floor with your head for that?"

"I see that you get the point.  He has a tendency to be ignorant at times, but he seems to have impressed most of his teachers.  I think you should meet him ASAP.  The location of his room has been sent to your data pad, though it is going to have to wait until after Cyleaf comes.  I guess I forgot to mention that earlier."

There was a knock on the door and Sion stood up to answer it for no reason in particular.  On cue, Cyleaf was right there when the door opened.  He was now face to face with his new wingmen and didn't know exactly what to think of it.

"Come on in Cy and have a seat, Will just wants to go over some things with us about Flight 2," was what he finally got out.

(OCC: I pretty much posted up what Than Sion is going through right now.)
 
-----------------------
EFL/WO2 Than Sion/Kaph 5/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE(=A=)(=*SA*=)(=TE=)[LoM][VC:B][MC:1][SWC]{VB}

[Black Hand]
SC/LtJG Halos Bok/1st Element/Gulf Flight/Hunter Squadron/Ace Wing/KBcC Helsa/OFF/Navy/RDA(H)

Never under estimate the power of stupid people in large numbers, unless you have a lot of cookies to throw in opposite corners to distract them.

Arturus didn't even bother to undress when he arrived at his quarters; he was asleep the second he hit the bed.  The inevitable mess sleeping would make of his uniform wasn't relevant regardless as he was sure to receive a new olive-grey uniform now that he had moved from starfighters to ship duty.  When he had arrived at his quarters, he had been partially surprised to find that Talysha had not yet returned to the ship.  She had left the Faeso prior to the attack but had not yet returned from her leave.  The celebrations of his new command would have to be put on hold; considering that Japheth wanted him to take over immediately, the celebrations may have to wait until the first tour was over.  But these considerations were only a foggy dream; sleep-deprived, Art had abandoned thinking about these concerns and had just dropped onto the bed and into an instant sleep.

===The Next Morning===

The alarm Art had sent went off far too early, at least relative to his need for sleep.  He had been asleep for ten hours which was about four more than he ever got but considering how long he had been on the go, twenty hours would have felt great right about now.  Art unbuttoned his tunic as he climbed up from the bed and was amazed when he walked into the small sitting area to find a brand new uniform draped over one of the chairs and a stack of datacards sitting on the table.  Clearly someone had been running errands for Japheth during the night, or day, or whatever time it actually had been while he was sleeping.

A quick run through the refresher station jolted Art fully back into reality and coupled with a cup of good strong coffee, he was ready to face the work ahead of him.  He had sent his protocol droid off to the officer's mess to bring back breakfast allowing him to begin reading through the files on the new ship and its crew.  The first thing that was required was a name.  The previous evening, or whatever it had been, Art had begun pondering a good name for the cruiser and had narrowed it down to two before feeling the overwhelming need to collapse.  The two he had come down to were the Doashim and the Algatak.  An Algatak is a reptile native to the planet Altora known for its cunning, stealth, and speed.  It embodied the attributes that Art himself had hoped to exemplify as a commander.  However, upon further reflection, he decided upon naming it the Doashim after a fierce creature on Ryloth known for its demonic looks.  The name he hoped would inspire fear; fear of his ship and him as a commander.  Perhaps he was slightly overconfident, a fault that was created with the excitement of something new and challenging.  Nevertheless, he felt that the name would fit and he was ambitious about what he could accomplish.

Having finally decided on a name, Art turned to the files that the admiral had sent him.  The Strike Cruiser was a ship that he was not entirely unfamiliar with.  The technical data provided by Japheth was a useful review and provided some insight into the changes made in the new models of the ship.  In particular, the joints of the ship that were weak due to the modular nature of the ship had been strengthened meaning that  more substantial, concentrated fire would be needed in order to destroy the ship's systems by exploiting those vulnerabilities.  In addition, the alignment of the laser cannons was now such that an intense crossfire could be created in front of each joint making fighter runs more difficult.  Overall, imperial engineers had done their job in making much needed improvements.  The new ships now held addition power generation capacities, could contain a maximum of three squadrons under certain modular conditions, and had an expanded capacity for troops while requiring a smaller overall crew and fewer officers.

According to the orders Japheth had given, the Doashim, as it was to be called, was to be responsible for patrol duty in one of a number of outlying sectors that had been made increasingly vulnerability by the coreward push.  The ship's modular status was going to be set for mixed operations.  A Strike Cruiser could be set for space superiority, mixed, or ground assault.  Each mode differed in terms of starfighters, hanger space, troop levels, and equipment available.  For this operation, the Doashim would be carrying a maximum of twelve assault gunboats and ten assault transports.  At deployment, however, only six gunboats would be available as the rest were on a reconnaissance temporarily and would be reassigned as soon as possible.  Troop wise, no ground assault vehicles were onboard as the army compliment was to serve as emergency garrison troops or reinforcements should such forces be needed in the area being patrolled.  There was one battalion, the 4th Mobile Response Battalion, stationed onboard the ship which meant a total of 576 troops.  Other than the ships and troops, the orders indicated that there was a variety of orbital and space equipment stored in the cargo hold and catalogued in the main computer so that the ship could provide limited emergency re-supply of some military hardware.  In other words, Arturus expected to be on a deployment that could have a little bit of everything involved at any time.

Having finished the ship overview, Art finally began to read the profiles of the important officers under his command.  While a standard Strike Cruiser would have some seventy plus officers on board, most were junior officers with there being a much smaller group of senior men and women running the ship.  After pouring another cup of coffee, Art began the final part of his briefing.

===One Day Later===

Art was surprised how fast he was assigned to the ship.  The mission he was to take on was clearly required as soon as possible and as a result; he was now taking immediate command of the ship and deploying that same day.  As the officer's shuttle took off from the hanger onboard the Atrus, Art felt himself slightly anxious in anticipation of the big event that welcoming a new captain was.  In addition to that, it was finally sinking in that one of his main goals in the Empire was now being realized.  After many long years of flying he was finally going to be commanding a ship and a ship of some power at that.  The Strike Cruiser was hardly any match for a main battle cruiser but nonetheless it could outgun a significant number of ships and contend well with ships even slightly above its class.

The short flight over seemed an eternity.  It was unlike Arturus to become excessively emotional about anything but he was truly excited.  He made a note to himself that this would be the first and last time he would show any emotion about his taking over command.  Since he was sitting alone in the back of the shuttle, he didn't need to worry about anyone seeing it and thus it damaging his image as a true professional.  Finally Art could feel the shuttle slow down; the feeling was followed shortly after by a slight level of turbulence as the shuttle passed through the magnetic layer into the hanger of the Strike Cruiser.  Art took a deep breath, ensured his uniform was in order and made his way towards the ramp to descend down into his new command.  Despite the new uniform, Art still continued to wear a sidearm which was highly unusual for navy officers and pilots alike.  But while that was unusual, what was perhaps more unusual were the ship captain's insignia on the uniform of a second lieutenant.  Judging from the backgrounds of the main officers assigned to the ship, Art realized that his first major challenge would be to establish his credibility with them and the crew.  It would be no easy task but it was an absolutely necessary one.  Orders were one thing but while they commanded obedience, they did not automatically command respect for those who gave them.  Arturus needed the respect of his men as well as their obedience.  Therefore, the test of his character and leadership ability would begin the second he set foot down in the hanger.

The shuttle navigated to the assigned docking position and landed with a gentle bump followed by the signature hiss of any ship landing and shutting down its repulsorlift coils.  The ramp descended slowly with a metal whine, the shuttle clearly was not brand new, and Arturus began his descent, inhaling the smell of grease, fuel, and metal that was fittingly described by pilots and hanger crews as the "sweet smell at home" given the amount of time they spent in hangers.

Art look straight ahead as he descended the ramp and saw that the officers and crew had assembled as per imperial protocol to welcome the new captain.  All officers, troops, and crew not required to be on duty to man critical systems were expected to attend such ceremonies and from the number of sharp, precise lines they formed on all sides of the shuttle it appeared as though that this indeed was the case.  Art marched down past the lines of stormtroopers on his right and ship crewmen, engineers, gunners, formed up on his left, and approached the line of officers at the far end of the human corridor.  As he approached, he tried to read into the expressions of the officers and in particular, the most important ones standing at the front.  There was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in their eyes suggestion a degree of skepticism and possibly even dislike of the fact that a second lieutenant had been sent as their new captain.  This is what Art feared the most but had certainly considered would be a possibility that he was prepared to deal with.

When he arrived in position, the executive officer who was standing at the left end of the front line, from Art's perspective, marched sharply down the line and turned to face Arturus.

"Welcome board Captain Hargraves," the man, a forty-one year old commander said accompanied with a sharp, crisp salute.  Arturus returned the salute.  Art thought he felt a sense of discomfort or at least awkwardness with the way the commander had said the word captain.  Perhaps he was being slightly paranoid and over cautious, that would certainly not be anything new to Arturus.  For the moment he ignored the possibility and continued to exude the image of confidence and ability that he felt.

"Thank you commander" he replied.

"Allow me to introduce the crew; if you would follow me sir."  The commander said.  The two marched to the end of the line, the executive officer two steps behind and two the left as was proper protocol.  Arturus had read about all these people but now he could see them in person and get an initial read of them and what he could tell of their perception of him.

From what he knew from his reading, the executive officer, Commander Kerrick Jansen, was a man who was never quite good enough to make it to the top.  He wasn't terrible in his role of executive officer but his leadership skills and initiative, especially in a crisis, was suspect.  As a result, he had drifted from command to command and while performing his duties, had never really excelled ensuring his career would eventually stall.  Build wise he medium to tall build, and would most certainly not past an army recruits physical test.  He certainly packed a few extra pounds, and an extra chin.  His eyes were green but rather dull; they showed intelligence but a true lack of passion.  The profile of him indicated that he was slightly conservative in his views on the military and in particular the role of women and aliens.  He accepted both grudgingly and was quietly known to blame them on occasion for his failure to rise up the ranks.  Clearly his lack of ability did not occur to him as a reason why.

(I will continue this tomorrow but I'm too tired right now.)

 
-----------------------
WADJ, SPAC/2LT Corran "Arturus" Hargraves/SCR Doashim/VE/VEN/(=A=)(=SA=)(=*MA*=)(=JCPA=)(=SCPA=)[MC:1](x2)[SV][BRC][VC:B][CBV][LSM][LoC][BWC][SWC][GWC]


"The way of war is a way of deception. When able, feign inability; when deploying troops, appear not to be. When near, appear far; when far, appear near. Lure with bait; strike with chaos. If the enemy is full, be prepared. If strong, avoid him. If he is angry, disconcert him. If he is weak, stir him to pride. If he is relaxed, harry him; if his men are harmonious, split them. Attack where he is unprepared; appear where you are unexpected. This is victory in warfare; it cannot be divulged in advance. Victory belongs to the side that scores most in the temple calculations before battle. Most spells victory; least spells defeat; none, surer defeat. I see it in this way, and the outcome is apparent." -- Sun Tzu

"Ultimate excellence lies not in winning every battle but in defeating the enemy without ever fighting." -- Sun Tzu

It's late (or early, depending on how you look at it), and I need sleep.  I'll make corrections and proof read it in the morning.  --Am


...Onboard the Faseo the morning after the battle at Messari...
Shazam slowly scanned the hangar bay.  He wondered if there were enough of the crew not present at the trial to make up even a skeleton crew.  He'd been told by Amason not to worry about the charge against him, but just knowing that he had a court marshal coming up kept him on edge.  Seeing Lacey Porcema sitting at the defendant's table at her own court marshal didn't help things. 

"But she was guilty." He thought.  "this could very well be the last day of her life"

The last few days had been like a whirlwind for Shazam.  He felt emboldened by their recent success against an Alliance patrol.  But that feeling gave way to frustration, and anger; directed at the woman who now sat several feet in front of him, still dressed in a captain's uniform.

The hangar bay had been chosen for both Porcema's and Shazam's court marshals because the arbiter, Walt Amason, had decided to make the proceedings public.  This would serve to put down any rumors regarding Porcema's guilt, and Shazam's innocence.  The hangar grew quiet as several men emerged from a doorway a few yards away.  First came the man Shazam recognized as the XO, then Arturas, the acting captain, and finally Amason.  The trio sat down at a table near the center of the hangar, with Amason in the middle.  Seated in front, and to the left of the arbiter's table, sat Captain Lacey Porcema, the defendant. 

After several minutes of discussion between himself and the other two men at the table, Amason nodded to an officer standing just to the right of his table, who spoke up. "Silence please.  Let the Proceeding begin."

The sharp sound of steel on steel instantly quieted the crowd.  "Ladies and gentlemen"  Amason said, putting down his gavel, "We are dealing with a sensitive situation here.  I decided to make this hearing public to eliminate any misconceptions or rumors that might result from a closed session.  Don't make me regret that.  During this hearing, I expect each of you to conduct yourself in a manner befitting an Imperial Officer."

"Sir" The young officer assigned to represent Porcema stood and spoke. "I would like to start by" 

"Counselor" Amason interrupted with a slight edge to his voice. "Sit down." 

"Yes sir.  Sorry sir."

"Captain Lacey Porcema" Amason began. "you are hereby charged with violating Imperial Penal Code Article two, Chapter three, and Article three, Chapter six.  The charges are treason and espionage.  How do you plead?"

"Not guilty" came the reply, which seemed to surprise even Porcema's defense representative.  With those two words, the crowd began to murmur and whisper amongst themselves.  The volume of their collective voices grew to the point that Shazam was certain things would get out of hand.  "You'll pay for this!  All of.."  She was cut off by the crowd.

"Execute the traitor!"  Someone called.

"Enough" Amason said, slamming his gavel down. "Any further outbursts in any form will not be tolerated.  You'll spend the next three days in an isolated detention cell.  This is your only warning."  His words quickly quieted the room.  "Counselor, you may present your case."

The young man defending Lacey Porcema stood, and began his speech.  He talked at length about Porcema's military career, personal life, and reputation.  It appeared to Shazam that he was desperately trying to say anything that would lighten the sentence, or at least make himself look a bit better.

After forty five minutes passed, with Porcema's defender still going strong, Shazam was about to get up and leave, when Amason interrupted the man.  "That will be enough counselor.  Thank you."

"Yes sir" The young man said, returning to his seat.

"We will take a short recess, and return with the verdict and sentence"  Amason said, as he stood and made his way out of the hangar, followed by Arturas and the XO.

Shazam had heard enough.  He walked to the nearest exit, heading for his quarters.  He just wanted some time to think.  To be alone.

The rest of the day was a blur to him.  Lacey Porcema was convicted of treason and espionage, and, despite some objections by Arturas, sentenced to death.  She would be expelled from the ship via the refuse airlock, just before the ship would enter hyperspace.  Shazam's own hearing went the opposite way.  He was acquitted of the charge of Dereliction of Duty, and was publicly exonerated of any involvement in Porcema's crimes.  His squadron held a party in his honor in the Faseo's mess hall afterward.  He was grateful that his pilots seemed to be getting along very well.  Events like this seemed to further strengthen their relationships with each other.  He also spoke with Amason later that evening, and extended him an invitation to join Nazgul Squadron, as they needed experienced pilots.  After much discussion, the invitation was accepted. 

Eventually he called it a night, returning to his quarters, but sleep never came.  He still couldn't get over the fact that Lacey Porcema was a traiter...

...Early the next morning...
Six men and one woman stood in front of the airlock.  Fear was evident on the woman's face.  She had dreaded this moment.  Her mind wondered back to the day she first met Aladon Rhen, who eventually became her Alliance contact.  He was taken with him; with his ideals.  It hadn't taken long to convince her to work for the Alliance.  At first her work for the Alliance was easy.  A position report every few days, and anything else of interest.  But as time passed, her assignments had become increasingly difficult.  She grew cold and distrustful, always on edge.  She had nearly fled the ship when the arbiter arrived.  Had she known then that she was actually deciding between life and death, she would have made a different choice.  But that didn't matter now. She was going to die in the next few minutes. 

She was brought back into reality by Amason's voice.  "Ms. Porcema, do you have any last words?"

"The Alliance will win in the end.  Don't you see, there's nothing..."  Came the reply.

"Alright.  That's enough."  Amason said, nodding to one of the guards beside Porcema. 

The guard grabbed her upper arms, and pushed her through the opening and into the airlock.  He kept his weapon trained on her as he backed out of the airlock as another guard closed the inner hatch.  As soon as the hatch sealed, Porcema was up against the window.  Her face was contorted in a mixture of anger and fear as she beat her fists on the hatch.  Amason could feel her hatred, her fear, her helplessness.  She was obviously terrified of dying.  Her eyes went wide as he reached for the console beside the hatch that would open the outter door, depressuring the airlock.  Now she seemed to be pleading for her life.  The anger and hatred that had been evident on her face had been replaced by pure terror as tears began to fall from her eyes. 

Then she was gone.


-----------------------
--Am

Darius blinked the sleep out of his eyes and read the message over again.

Darius,
We have a problem and we need to talk.  I'm working through the paper work to get you family crisis leave because my father has not been replying to my messages.  Plus, we need to talk, I have something to tell you. 

With love,
Layren

He sighed, she still loves me at least.  But some idiots after me have probably nabbed papa to get to me.  I hate life, he thought to himself.  Darius opened another screen on his console and began typing a message, a long message back to his troubled wife.  Half-way through, his door opened in his quarters.

Hunter stood in his doorway with his hand up, Darius had his gun instinctively trained on his heart, still in its holster.  "Anybody ever told you you're a very jumpy person?" Hunter queried.

Darius resisted the slight urge to smile and replied in his cold tone, "I don't like getting shot in the back.  Use the doorbell next time."

"Uh huh, well, I just had a few questions.  First, how's our flight holding up."

The young man sitting at the console finally let go of his DL-44 and informed his fellow comrade their situation.  "Well, Cail, the woman who had jumped in with that supply shuttle, didn't want to stay with Nazgul.  She somehow enjoys hopping around ship to ship protecting the single ships of cargo.  And Zurth, if I had been faster in shooting the A-wing that had almost killed him, he would probably still be here.  But he decided that the navy life wasn't the life for him, so he returned to Ryloth."  Darius stood up and packed a last few precious items in his massive duffle bag.

"So...its just you an me then," Hunter added, walking over to the console and quickly skimming the message that was currently on the screen.  Darius immediately dropped what was in his hands, grabbed Hunter by the collar, and held him against the wall in the small confines of his quarters.

Hunter began to breathe heavier, and Darius used his other hand to move his message from the ships computer to a datapad and opened up an official message from the VEN.  Gasping for air, because Darius had his fist pinned against his throat, Hunter spoke, "it's none of my business sir.  What ever domestic disputes you have with your wife are your own matter, not mine...please let go."

Darius quickly relinquished his grip and began explaining, "don't read my messages.  Let that be a first lesson when you're around me.  Second, DJ234 is returning the the Navy after a long leave.  He was a former Nazgul and since our flight has the least number.

"Yes sir, anything else that I need to know?" he asked, smoothing the wrinkles out of his collar.

"No Hunter, you can go and get prepared, we depart for active duty in an hour."

"Thanks sir," he added and left the room, massaging his sore neck.

The young Nazgul flight leader walked over and opened the chest at the foot of his bed.  He opened an carefully examined the contents before removing them from their cubby.  He sighed as he tossed the chest plate of his covetted armor on his bed and pulled out his wedding band from a small box in the bottom of the chest.

"What the hell, you might as well wear it," he muttered to himself, and began to arm himself for yet another mission in service of the Vast Imperial Navy.
 
-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
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FL/WO2 Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

...Continued from Shazam's post...

The devastation was unbelievable...

As the two squadrons approached Nestamas, great patches of scorched earth could be seen from space, along with the smaller glow of millions of structure fires.  In some places, the fires were so concentrated that they resembled the lights of cities as seen from space.  The most populated areas of the planet had been all but obliterated. 

After several minutes of silence, Shazam cleared his throat then spoke. "Alright people, we've got a job to do.  Sensors didn't pick up anything when we entered the area, but they're here.  They're definitely here.  Begin a broad sensor sweep of the area.  Nazgul will the south hemisphere, Kaph will take the north."

As each squadron broke off, they separated into smaller flights, on different headings to maximize sensor coverage.  Shazam could tell that some of his pilots were getting anxious.  Shazam had a bad feeling about this.  This was too quiet.  He preferred a direct confrontation rather than playing hide and seek.  "It would take several medium to large cruisers to cause this much damage." he thought, looking at the planet in the starboard side of his viewport.

"Sir" It was Darius, Nazgul five, whose flight was closest to the south pole of the planet.  "I'm getting a faint image.  It's almost like a sensor ghost."

"Position?"

"It's coming from the other side of the planet."  Came the reply.

Nestamas had an extremely strong magnetic field; something that both rebel and imperial commanders alike had learned to use.  Some planets made for better cover than others, but Nestamas was in a league of it's own.

"A sensor ghost on the other side of the planet..." Shazam's thoughts were interrupted by Darius.

"Definitely not a ghost!  I'm reading an energy build up, and a lot of radiation.  It has to be our enemy fleet.  They must in combat.  It has to be laser fire." 

"That, or they just jumped into hyperspace.  Nazgul, form up!"  Shazam ordered.

"Kaph One to Nazgul One" It was Will, commander of Kaph squadron.  "We'll approach from the north pole.  There should be less chance of either of us being detected before we're within range--if they're still there.

"Acknowledged Kaph One.  If they have jumped, we'll see if we can follow. Good hunting."

We're rolling now 


-----------------------
--Am

He looked down upon the piles of permacrete and bent durasteel.  Where once stood a chemical factory was now a pile of enflamed sludge that burned with a green flame.  Ironically there was no danger for there was no one left to be poisoned.  That was not the only place that still burned, there was massive fires everywhere.  The enemy did this very recently and from the looks of it, killing millions in the process.  Most disheartening was a residential area that had been burned to the ground by orbital bombardment.  He could only think of scorched, limp bodies of children and the parents that they had clung to in their final hours.  The New Republic boasts about how evil the Empire is, but I see no difference between the crimes of the Emperor and what the Rebels have done here today, thought Than Sion.  I take that back, at least when the Death Star destroyed Alderaan no one lived only to die slowly from their own injuries.  There were no children left without parents.  There was only a massive explosion and then nothing but big chunks of rock in space.

The New Republic would pay for t heir crimes against the Empire and Than Sion personally.  It was NR soldiers that had killed his parents in cold blood.  Left their bodies to rot at the threshold as one would leave garbage at a land fill.  Than Sion would kill as many of them as it would take for the Vast Empire to come to power, or die trying.  The New Republic was unworthy of ruling the galaxy.

"Sir, I'm getting a faint image.  It's almost like a sensor ghost," said Darius, second flight leader of Nazgul.  Than Sion wasn't sure, but he believed that Darius had also recently been promoted to flight leader.  Sion wondered if Darius was having any better luck with his pilots.

"Position?" asked Shazam.

"It's coming from the other side of the planet."  Came the reply.

"Definitely not a ghost!  I'm reading an energy build up, and a lot of radiation.  It has to be our enemy fleet.  They must in combat.  It has to be laser fire." 

"That, or they just jumped into hyperspace.  Nazgul, form up!"  Shazam ordered.

"Kaph One to Nazgul One," this was Will, "we'll approach from the north pole.  There should be less chance of either of us being detected before we're within range--if they're still there.

"Acknowledged Kaph One.  If they have jumped, we'll see if we can follow. Good hunting."

Than Sion's anxiety sky rocketed.  It had been a long time since he had felt the G's of combat or had to outsmart a birdie.  He just hoped that his skills weren't rusty and that his pilots would do well.  Though he didn't have high expectation's after Cyleaf's little mistake.  If only Kal and I did something stupid that got us demoted, thought Than.  Then we could have been able to work together longer.  Don't be stupid, your duty is to serve the Vast Empire.  If taking a command position is how I can best serve the Empire, then so be it.

The rush of adrenaline and the pre battle hype was all for nothing.  There was nothing but empty space when they got there.  While empty space and a lot of gamma radiation caused by a jump to hyperspace. 

"This is Nazgul 1, can somebody figure out where they jumped to?"

"This is Kaph 2, I already calculated possible jump points.  I'll send you the coordinates of the most likely."

"Thanks Kaph 2, I'll send a message to control right away so we can take down these Rebel scum."

That was Demonic, always thinking ahead...   

 
-----------------------
EFL/WO2 Than Sion/Kaph 5/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE(=A=)(=*SA*=)(=TE=)[LoM][VC:B][MC:1][SWC]{VB}

[Black Hand]
SC/LtJG Halos Bok/1st Element/Gulf Flight/Hunter Squadron/Ace Wing/KBcC Helsa/OFF/Navy/RDA(H)

Never under estimate the power of stupid people in large numbers, unless you have a lot of cookies to throw in opposite corners to distract them.