Kuat's Open Orbit

A planet hung before him, gleaming jewel like eyes reflected the dark embodiment of space as he drank in what he saw. A once beautiful world, and beautiful still, but of course that depended upon ones view of beauty, beauty wasn't progress but improvement and Kuat had been mined, altered and optimized so that its mechanical manufactured shipyards that orbit the world like giant leeches could mass produce what ever it was one power needed to dominate the other. Yes it was in war, in strife that progress was made.

His arms locked out onto the console rigid with a sense of expectation, for if the whispered rumors on the dark winds were true then the credits had been well paid, he turned then in the frame of an absent mind and stared dully at the bloodied body lay horribly and awkwardly strewn upon the cold unfeeling floor. Money was such a corrupting influence and it seemed ever still to dull the mind of the greedy to the true threats, surround oneself with pretty trinkets and wealth but one could not hide and this time the informants greed had dealt him into the hands of death itself. Lelantos flipped the credit chip in the air and caught it slapping it down hard on the console. He lifted his hand and viewed the bloodied tarnished side of the chit and nodded grimly.

"So be it."

He opened up a channel to whom ever may be listening, he was sure it would get through and be answered, not perhaps directly by whom he sought but he felt this quest was nearing its conclusion. He held the Doomtreader on a steady course as it drew ever closer.

Gideon’s pale blue eyes narrowed as he watched the azure tunnel of hyperspace fade before him. He had always hated space travel; it meant his feet were far from solid ground. It also determined that he handed his life over to another, and such things were uncomfortable when you were used to being in control. As the small Imperial frigate burst into reality with a flicker of pseudomotion, the Stormtrooper moved towards the vessel’s command dais. There he had found the commanding officer of the frigate, ensconced within his authoritative routine. Logan Aximand, a career soldier in the Imperial Navy, was throwing his hands about whilst he dictated orders to his bridge crew. The vessel had entered uncertain territory, and they had to be ready for anything that would come their way. When he was finished, Gideon watched as the Captain sunk back into his command throne. A furrow in his brow began to form, and the Stormtrooper knew that something was on the man’s mind. It had been nearly two years since they were first assigned to the Sullust Campaign together, and the two men grew close as friends as well as brothers in arms. Each had saved the others’ lives during the course of that grueling expedition. Captain Aximand had saved Gideon’s life by having him rescued during the opening stages of the engagement, recovering his injured form from the decrepit battle station, collapsing to the volcanic planet below. In turn, the then ‘Lieutenant’ Raith, had saved the Captain’s life by personally repelling boarders who sought to take control of the ship. From then on, each had sought to outdo the other and garner a tally of favours. So far, Logan owed his life several times over to the Stormtrooper. “Captain,” Gideon said, coming to stand beside his fellow officer. “Why have we come here, of all places?” Logan smiled slightly, letting his desperation and frustration be betrayed by the awkwardness of the movement. “After the Remnant fell, we had no place to go. You know this already, Gideon. The Republic would not take us, let alone any of their allies. We were their enemy for countless generations; it would be unlike them to show us generosity when the Empire had shown them none in the past.” The Captain paused for a moment as he thought of the other factions, the ones that Gideon had suggested when they fled the Remnant’s downfall. “The Order of the Eye has all but vanished from the face of the Galaxy. Though I know you would desire to fight alongside more of your kin, it would bring my crew ill fortune to force them to believe in such old idolatry. Those madmen worshiped a destroyed rock, for God’s sake. I can’t push my men into such pointless fanaticism.” Logan’s brow was now creased with several lines, each deeper than the last. The Captain’s head drooped into his hand, resting awkwardly upon the arm of his command throne. “The Dark Tide is our best bet. They have persevered where others had failed, and we should find ourselves welcome in their arms.”

Gideon’s choler rose as he heard the words issued from his commanders lips. The Stormtrooper was of the mind, when they had first fled the dissolution of the Remnant, that they should go down fighting. Reap a bloody toll upon the forces that had brought the glorious empire low, and pass on into the hereafter knowing that they died like heroes. He still clung onto that state of mind as it festered within his heart. That displeasure now seeped into his voice, ensuring that his friend knew how much the Stormtrooper hated this. “So we throw ourselves at the feet of the Sith, and expect them to take pity upon us? To have us drawn in like oblivious cattle awaiting the slaughter?” Gideon voice began to echo through the now silent bridge. Eyes from all around the compartment turned towards their decorated heroes, wondering if the tension could develop into something worse. The Stormtrooper bit his tongue as he turned his eyes to see the command crew glaring up at him. Not here, he thought, not in front of the crew. Their morale was low enough as it stood; there was no need to drag it further into the crumbling depths of insanity. Taking a deep resonate breath, He felt his anger simmer and then subside. “Fine,” His voice was rife with tension of the deed. “We shall see where this path leads us, but if you get any of these men killed.” Gideon placed his hand upon his sidearm to emphasize his point. “I swear I will have you put before a firing squad. We have been through hell and back, our men and women deserve better than this.” Logan nodded, the Stormtrooper was right. The Dark Tide may be their only hope to find a niche within this universe, but it did not have to be the means to an end like he thought it would be. He would not seek pity from the Dark Masters of Kuat, for he knew there would be none. But he would find a way to turn their desperate stab in the dark in their favour, somehow and someway. Throwing a dismissive glance in Gideon’s direction, the captain turned towards his communications officer. "Mister Sarin; start ships wide broadcast and, open a channel to Kuat’s Orbital control if you please.” Within seconds the transmission was active and the Captain’s voice began to resound throughout the vast emptiness of the void. A heavy sigh hung upon his lips as his hand hovered above the panel, as if he resented the act he was about to commit too. It felt like surrender, and Gideon had made that known during their flight from the deep core. It was too late now, the communications signal was live and they were already within the sights of Kuat’s guns.

:: This is Captain Logan Aximand; Commanding Officer of the formerly Imperial, Naval Vessel, ‘Avenger’. My crew and I have come to enlist within the Dark Tide. I request permission to dispatch a single shuttle planetside to discuss terms in person. ::

“There.” Logan said after he removed his thumb from the transmit section of his command throne. “It is done. Whatever happens next shall be in the hands of fate. Live or die, it has been a pleasure serving with you all.”

Belbe smiled as the clearance came through promptly; yes, it would be good to be working with Lord Sinistra again. Keying the comm, the NRD sent her acknowledgement before bringing the elegant craft down into the atmosphere as she sent a thought back to Lord Stormro.

=Belbe=
We have landing clearance my Lord, and shall be arriving shortly.

With that the dark craft descended towards the Estate of the Ten.