Vixont Rzirress
The Jedi Order
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Post by Vixont Rzirress on Sept 22, 2015 17:21:14 GMT -8
*Only a few minutes behind the CR90 now led by the Zabrak, more ships bearing markings of the Felucian military arrived, a sizable portion of the fleet; but not enough to sacrifice their homeworld's own defenses. Still, the incoming fleet consisted of a pair of Scythe-class battle cruisers, a Corona-class frigate, a pair of CR25 carriers, an Aegis-class shuttle, a pair of XJ7 X-wing squadrons, and a squadron of K-wings. A fair number of ships, but Aerandir knew of the Kashyyyk Sith's reputation; even though he was aware the Hapans were supplying their aid, he had intended to bring everything he had.
Aerandir himself, however, was not on board either Scythe, or even the Corona; no, he was situated in the cockpit of the Aegis vessel, dubbed Inertia, as he fully intended to be part of the insertion crew should there be boots on the ground. Indeed, Michelle awaited him among the troops, but Aerandir was in the cockpit to listen to chatter and answer the call.
As well as hail the current fleet.* "This is Aerandir Calmcacil of the Felucia Jedi," *he spoke, after establishing communications with those present.* "Apologies if I'm asking a second time, but what's the situation?" ***A YT-1930 comes into the Kashyyyk orbit and slows down.*** ::Master Calmcacil, I will head down to Royal City and make contact with the Tribal elders there. I believe I can muster some tribal support through a few old friends.:: ***It had been a rather long time since Vixont saw his old friends. Frorral and Grozvoka may hav forgotten him. It had been close to a century since he was last here.***
***The Falleen Sage directed his vessel to Royal City. In the hopes to muster Wookiee support. Which might be a long shot considering that it had be almost 80 years since he last saw his friends. Only time will tell.***
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Sept 23, 2015 17:05:22 GMT -8
"Captain Marris."
Stepping away from the holoscreen in the corvette's central operations area, the Human commanding officer of the Spearhead made his way to the bridge, where Master Iorek stood with his arms folded in front of him, hidden by the sleeves of his burgundy cloak. Standing at attention just out of the Zabrak's peripheral vision, Marris waited to be acknowledged. The Jedi didn't need a verbal acknowledgment of his presence, not with those psychic tendrils of his, and the pair had learned that their mutual dislike of each other led to an implicit agreement to speak as little as possible to one another. Iorek gave the commands, Marris carried them out. No need for pleasantries, no need for fuss, and no need to pretend the other existed for longer than necessary. But as it stood, things were growing more necessary by the second.
"What, pray tell," the Jedi said, his frustration palpable, "would you make of our situation here?"
"To be honest, sir," the dark-haired Human replied, "you're not wrong about having a plan in place before taking action. But if the Sith were to retaliate against the blockade, they surely would have done so by now, wouldn't they? Thus far we've seen no evidence of anything other than token resistance from where Master Titus made his landing. That being said, the shield is still up at the Sith base, and nothing we have will penetrate it. But once it is down, I agree with you; the same tactics we used on Korriban would be best for the facility's destruction, provided we use smaller explosives."
Despite his dislike of the man, Rutil felt pleased to be vindicated by someone. "And the Hapan scouting party?"
"Kashyyyk is rather arboreal, sir," Captain Marris continued, "it's entirely possible that they've not been able to make contact. I doubt any of our personal comlinks could breach the canopy."
Rutil took a moment before nodding, acknowledging his subordinate's points. While he had entertained the possibilities that he might have been wrong, Rutil's distrust of Varro and his growing dislike of Titus took root quickly and decisively. And while Marris had made some valid observations, they neglected to cover how Varro would have known about the resistance and the Sakiyan at all if their personal communications were too weak to breach the trees. Nor did it allow for the possibility of a trap. Or that, as Rutil feared, the Wookiee populace was still very much under the thrall of their Sith overlords. All he had to the contrary was the say-so of a Force user he didn't fully trust, and the reports of an alleged Jedi's task force that a beachhead had been established that said next to nothing about the surrounding villages and overall population. The Zabrak couldn't help but smile a grim smile; for someone that accused him of being close to the dark side, Titus had certainly not hesitated to rush headlong into violence. Projection was a lovely thing.
With a wave of his hand, Master Iorek dismissed the captain, continuing to watch events unfold from the bridge's main viewport and listening as his crew monitored and relayed information between the surface and the ships in orbit, acting as a central communication hub for the operation. After a short few minutes, the Zabrak reopened communication with Master Calmcacil; to his knowledge, the only Jedi still in orbit.
Next time, let me fully draft a plan and present it before we all jump into a total clusterkriff. That's all I ask.
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Aerandir Calmcacil
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Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Sept 24, 2015 19:01:01 GMT -8
*A mere moment after his arrival and a holographic connection had been established with not only Masters Iorek and Titus, but, Aerandir presumed, the leader of this operation as well, on the Hapan side. Curious, considering Hapes was a matriarchal society, and indeed, there was something else... different about this man, other than that fact. "Master Varro," was it? According to him, his fleet had established control over orbit and contact with a resistance leader, and was preparing to make planetfall near the Sith Temple.
If they were only here a few hours and already found the "hidden" fortress, whose seclusion was seemingly-legendary, then it must not have been very hidden.
Deeming that they were ready to begin, some of the ships of the Hapan fleet detached and started to make their way towards the surface.* "That's our cue, boys," *he said, to the pilot and to the rest of his fleet. Addressing the Hapan fleet, he added,* "Our Scythes, Streak and Flash, and our Corona, Lite, will aid in orbit, as well as a squadron of X-wings. The rest of us..." *he said more to his own men, though they would already be aware of their own roles,* "... we got us some Sith to squash."
*He heard a few cries of approval from his men, which made Aerandir smile; this felt like old times, himself and his Jedi brethren and the brave men and women of the navy banding together to force back Sith oppression. He nearly made his way back to the troops when more comments came in, first from Master Iorek, expressing hope that "someone brought something bigger than a blaster." Aerandir chuckled, adding,* "That's what the CR25s are good for," *referencing their complement of gunships, speeder bikes, and even a handful of AT-PTs apiece. When asked for further input or objections from Master Titus, Aerandir shook his head and simply said,* "Let's go. And may the Force be with us."
*After acknowledging as well Sage Rzirress' plan to make contact with tribal leaders, Aerandir once more prepared to head towards the rear of the Aegis when, once more, Master Iorek spoke, directly to Aerandir himself. This time it was a direct communication, asking that, next time, he be allowed to lay out a full plan next time. Aerandir, turning back towards the display, hid a smile, mostly that the Zabrak had taken the invitation to not censor himself around Aerandir, before responding,* "Indeed, so long as the outside aid also participates; seems we weren't the only ones to rush here."
*As he at last began to make his way to the rear of the ship, he stuck an earpiece in his ear, instructing the pilot to relay information to his commlink before departing the cockpit. Meeting up with Michelle, he took his place with her at the forefront of his men, all outfitted and ready to march.*
"What's the plan, bro?" *Michelle asked, a small measure of frustration apparent on her brows; she was not used to having to learn this information secondhand.*
"The Hapan fleet has orbit locked down, but our larger ships are hanging out to provide support should they need it."
"I still can't believe you called them Streak and Flash," *she commented with a grin, shaking her head.
Looking wounded, he spread his arms.* "I didn't even think about it until later! I thought the names sounded cool."
"Well, they kinda did... until Morgan heard about them."
*Aerandir lowered his head in mock-defeat.* "Of course she'd be the one to point that out..."
*They shared a small laugh, while the troops around him suppressed confused and partially-concerned expressions. While Aerandir did not see these himself, he sensed their thoughts, and it amused him a little. But their focus now was on the planet below, and the fight to come... A righteous fire began to burn within Aerandir, for now the time had come.
The Kashyyyk Sith Order was being evicted.*
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Sept 28, 2015 16:52:51 GMT -8
All fronts on the planet below were making considerable progress. Not as much as the Zabrak Jedi would have liked, of course, but enough to validate the Hapan commander's story. What few Sith were there were being beaten back. The resistance was not only holding, but advancing. At this point, not joining the fray would be not only unsound, but laughable.
"It's time, Captain. Take us in."
Without so much as a word, Captain Marris gave the order, and the CR90 made its way to the planet's surface.
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Post by Ghôsh Windu on Oct 20, 2015 17:38:18 GMT -8
A swarm of 60 Heavy Starfighters and 50 transport ships break the surface of the planet, they make a break for openspace 25 of the transports ships break off and act as kamikazes by smashing into the blockading fleet , as the surviving starfights and transports made it past the fleet they jumped into hyperspace, Brimstone had piloted his cloaked Sentinel-class shuttle around the fleet towards one of Kashyyyks moons before jumping into hyperspace
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Oct 20, 2015 19:09:32 GMT -8
When the continental shelf below had been drowned by the sudden appearance of an unforeseen stormfront, Commodore Myra Rhodes had found herself effectively cut off from her forces on the planet below. The Shipmistress had soon grown bored as the inaction had chafed at her nerves, scraping them raw with frustration. She liked having a consistent stream of information flood her terminal, it allowed her mind to remain focused and sharp. Unlike the ideal situation the Hapan woman had so desperately wanted, she found her mind wandering into the darkest recesses of her psyche in order to entertain herself. It was there that she had drawn forth the memory of the moonlight tryst she had partaken in back upon Hapes Prime. Myra smiled then, as she recalled the chocolate skinned man whispering sweet nothings into her ear and snatching her fickle heart with his velveteen words. Oh, what a silver-tongued devil he was. Though she couldn’t remember much of what he had said, what she could recall was that the man had claimed to be from the infamous bloodline of the Calrissian’s. Her entire life had been shaped around the stories of the past, and even though he was a Man, Myra admired Lando’s tenacity at the Battle of Taanab. Once that was made apparent, all pretense was thrown to the wind and the - then Captain - had bedded the man without a second thought. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get intimate with a descendant of one of your childhood heroes, so she had seized the day before the chance had passed her by.
The thoughts of that night had lingered in her mind until the moment her reverie was shattered by the blaring klaxons resounding throughout the command deck. Snapping back into reality with a subtle shake of her head, the woman strode from the embrace of her command throne and stood before the tactical hololithic display. It was there that the reports from the armada choking the overcast skies of Kashyyyk had filed in, leaving the Commodore with a malicious grin painted upon her face. Though it paled in comparison to the night she spent alone with that devil, it was enough to keep her mind grounded in the present. The projected path of their ascent had placed them on a direct course with the Flagship of the Hapan contingent, which had left the woman wondering what their game was. Did they actually plan on running the blockade with nothing more than a fistful of starfighters and transports? The answer came seconds later as the realization had dawned upon her. That was exactly what they had intended. Bloody hell, she thought.
“Helm, turn our bow away from the planet, I want our rotational spread to hound these bastards as they make their pass.”
“Aye ma’am”
The woman had called back, responding with the only words she wished to hear during this increasingly annoying siren song. Without missing a beat, the Commodore strung together several orders at once - ensuring that if they had made the jump to Hyperspace, they would pay dearly for their withdrawal.
“Weapons mistress, run out the guns and shoot down anything you can. Permission to launch the pulse mass mines is granted, I don’t want them to escape so easily.”
Keying her headset with an ever so gracefully flick of her wrist, the Shipmistress spoke aloud as her voice was carried throughout the depths of the Flagship and across the armada thereafter.
:: This is Commodore Myra Rhodes of the Hapan Flagship; ‘Contrador’, All hands prepare for combat. Alert fighters are to engage all enemy vessels at once. We cannot allow them to escape. ::
Once her voice had fallen silent, the channel was closed and another one was opened. This time, it was directed towards the fast encroaching swarm of Sith and steel. While she would’ve like to let the following words never pass the curves of her lips, she was honour-bound to at least allow the enemy the chance to surrender peacefully before the shooting had begun. Though she doubted they would respond, the communique was pulsed through the void.
:: Attention unidentified vessels. Halt your advance, or we will be forced to act accordingly. ::
As she expected, once the message had been sent, there was no response. At least, none that she could discern. The disturbance in the atmospherics had been playing haywire on their sensorium systems for several hours now, so it was unlikely that either side had heard what the other was saying. Nevertheless, her ship's logs would show that she had made the attempt, and when faced with the ever watchful eye of the media, she would not be painted as the merciless villain.
With her tertiary duty complete, Myra ordered her gunnery master to open fire, the sound of her command almost drowned out in the unsteady blare of the alarms. Thankfully the command was received, as the guns of the Hapan Battle Dragon had responded in kind. The turbolasers had roared in the silence of the void as the horde swept into range, stabbing at their swift metallic forms with brilliant beams of emerald light. Some were instantaneously vaporized while others had expertly avoided the first barrage. From that moment forward, as the two lines of space faring vessels had come ever closer, the numerical advantage of the enemy slowly began to dwindle. Myra had lost count how many of the transport classified vessels her warship had taken out, but as the sensorium officer had relayed the information a mere heartbeat later, her insidious smirk had faded slightly. She wanted to cut her teeth on something more savoury than a fleeing gaggle of snubfighters and freighters, yet as there was little to do in the heavens above the forest world; she would have to endure this saddening disappointment.
That was until she had been thrown from her feet, taken aback by the sudden and violent shaking of the command deck. The Commodore had hit the marble floor hard, drawing blood from her tongue as her polished enamel chips bit deep into the supple flesh within. She spat out the pooling contents of her mouth as she stood to her feet.
“What the hell was that!” She demanded, her voice taking on a more panicked and pain shrouded hue.
“Four of the transports have impacted our shields and tore through the deflectors. We’ve been rammed!”
What? How was that possible? They had their shields up, those crazy fools should’ve been taken out as soon as they impacted with the defensive screen. Wait. Her mind raced to find the answer, and as the deck officer had relayed the information to her, she felt a small - insignificant flutter of satisfaction flow through her breast. Though they had elected to flee, rather than fight, these Sith had bloodied the nose of the Hapan Flagship through an ingenious method. Two of the transports had been carrying a plethora of Ion charges, which, once they collided with the shields had sufficiently weakened them enough to allow the craft behind them to breach the barrier. Thus, as a result of their subterfuge, the Contrador had found herself bloodied and broken. Several decks were exposed to the vacuum, and the explosive ventilation of volatile gases had caused small fires to erupt within one of the hangar bays that still retained a semblance of an atmosphere. All in all, the damage was moderate, but enough to cause the Flagship to cease their unyielding barrage for but a fleeting moment.
Which, as a result, had been seen as an opportunity by the enemy to break the blockade and exit the operational theatre with a calculated jump into the great unknown. Having regained her footing and ordered the damage control teams to the critical areas, Myra took a moment to reflect upon what the hell just happened. She gracelessly spat out another gobbet of blood and violently cursed in a myriad of languages before managing to collect herself. There would be much explaining to do, and she knew that meant she would have to answer to both the aging Queen Mother and her current Commander. Though he was a kindly man, who knew that the burden of command was a rare gift, Commodore Rhodes knew that his wroth was a terrible sight to behold. She had seen it come to fruition in the days leading up to his ascendancy to the Royal Court when the Cousin to the Chume’Da had been brutally murdered for the sin of attempting to assassinate the rightful heir to the throne. Though, like all things surrounding this mysterious metal bound figure, they were just rumours told in the darkness of closing Cantina’s to frighten the patrons into behaving well.
Heaving forth a sigh laden with frustration, Myra set about her duties and vainly attempted to make contact with Master Varro on the surface to relay the terrible news.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Nov 13, 2015 14:26:55 GMT -8
Racing away from Kashyyyk with speed that befit her class, the Spearhead made for the closest of the Battle Dragons to her position. As they approached, a gravelly voice came over the open channels.
Ladies of the Hapes Consortium, it said, you have fought valiantly today, and you have the gratitude of the galaxy for it. But, as gratitude only goes so far, I felt it unfair to deprive you of the spoils your sisters on the ground share. In my cargo hold are several dozen prisoners, all of whom served those that oppressed and humiliated you for so very long, and from whom your freedom was hard-won.
Simply let us know which of your ships can take them.
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Nov 15, 2015 20:54:45 GMT -8
Until this moment, there had been no word from the surface regarding how the battle had fared upon the planet below. As the Spearhead had lanced through the storm choked atmosphere, the Commodore had nearly leapt from her Command Throne and dashed towards her tactical hololithic display. FINALLY! Someone to tell them what in the seven hells is going on down there. When the Corellian Corvette had finished its ascent and soared towards the Contrador, the nearest of all the Battle Dragons, she had listened intently to what this gravel stricken voice had to say. By his words alone, she was able to divine that their boots on the ground had earned themselves a victory worthy of song. It lifted her spirits to hear him speak of their valour on the battlefield, and she was intrigued by the thought of getting in on the action as well.
To be perfectly honest, she had wanted to bombard the planet from orbit in the first place, but Varro was a stubborn man who believed that the corruption currently tainting this world would never be cut out by a power hammer when a perfectly good scalpel could be used instead. Shaking the past from her mind, Myra signalled her communications officer to patch her through to this mysterious voice aboard the spearhead. When the connection was established, she spoke with the full authority befitting her station.
Couldn’t have these Felucian’s believe that the Hapan Navy had skimped out on protocols whilst their forces were engaged elsewhere.
:: Your kind words mean the world to us, Stranger, but the gift you bring us means more. We thank you for thinking of us, despite not needing too. Since the Contrador is the nearest vessel to yours, at your leisure, you may transfer them into our care. ::
Leaving the channel open, should a reply be made, the Commodore adorned her heat treated hair with a microbead and moved towards the turbo lift at the rear of the command deck. It was there that she silently directed several of Deck Troopers to follow after her and prepare themselves for anything. Even if they were subdued by the Jedi and the soldier’s aboard the Spearhead, who was to say whomever they captured might not try to take this ship once free of the Jedi’s gaze. As the doors had sealed behind her, Myra’s thoughts began to drift towards how exactly they would be dealing with the sudden influx of Sith populating her vessel.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Nov 15, 2015 21:28:57 GMT -8
There was no follow-up communication. The Spearhead simply received docking instructions from her crew's counterparts on the Contrador and followed them to the letter. Once the seal had been made, the airlock doors opened, and the prisoners walked single-file into the custody of their new wardens. The Sith - the proper Force-wielding masters of the Kashyyyk branch - led the way, their iconic weapons stripped from them. Following behind were their foot soldiers, their pistols and rifles locked away. One by one, they boarded the Battle Dragon. One by one, the relief washed over them as they left the accursed corvette.
And one by one, surely, they would realize that their Zabrak captor was merely ensuring someone else got their hands dirty.
When the last prisoner was on the Hapan warship, the Spearhead undocked and raced for the edge of Kashyyyk's gravity well, jumping to hyperspace not long afterwards.
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Post by MaxineMorganian on Nov 18, 2015 12:58:04 GMT -8
Maxine Morganian arrives in orbit around Kashyyyk and prepares to go in to land in the royal city making some last minute checks on her equipment and navigating before beginning the descent "Thank god I made it to Kashyyyk before those Imperialistic scumbags caught up to me...that would have been bad.....well now lets go see if I can find some information about my parents in the royal city'
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
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Post by Darth Belial on Nov 18, 2015 19:23:02 GMT -8
Throughout history, the Hapans had been renowned across the galaxy for how harshly they dealt with criminals. Thus, when the transfer had been completed and the Commodore stood before the assemblage of bound Sith and their subordinates, she knew exactly what to do. It wouldn’t be a glorious sight, but it would sate the small measure of revenge they hungered for. During the entirety of the turbo lift transition, she had contemplated what manner of execution would be the most fitting for vagabonds such as these. If she had truly wanted them to die swift deaths without looking them in the eye, the Commodore would’ve simply evacuated the entire hangar deck and vented the compartment into space. The agony that they would’ve felt would have been… pitiful in comparison to what these bastards had done to the Cluster. They deserved more. They deserved to become observers within their own flesh as their bodies moved of their own volition. Yes. That would be enough to feel some measure of vindication. At least enough so that she and her crew, could feel proud once more as they returned to the loving embrace of the Consortium. Had this batch of Sith not come into their possession by the grace of an ally, the woman doubted that they would’ve been able to return to the Mists without undergoing several matriarchal rituals to cleanse themselves of the shame of letting some of their prey escape.
So, when the doors had parted and the transition had been completed, she stood before the uneven line and withdrew the first of her two pistols. What she now held in her hand was the deadly Hapan Gun of Command, a sonic weapon that would bend the very will to the one holding the weapon. At least, that’s what the people of the galaxy thought. In fact, the truth of the weapon was that it made the intended target far more susceptible to suggestion than ever before, allowing the user to plant the thought seed within their mind - making them act in accordance to the bearer’s wishes. Without hesitation, she went to the unarmed and bound soldiers, blasting each of them with the Gun of Command. Once it’s effects had taken root within their minds, Myra took a step back and addressed the captured common men in uniform.
“You are men and women that were just following Orders. I get that. It’s an admirable quality, as it shows the strength of character to submit your will to another. One who may lead you astray and towards a goal that’s not your own. Sadly, that’s exactly what happened here. You were taken, and led away from the goal of all soldiers and attacked the people that no longer desired your tyranny. Therefore, I have given you the chance for redemption.”
Unholstering her service pistol, Myra then unlocked the soldier’s binder cuffs and placed the weapon in his hand. There was always that moment where she had wondered if the Gun of Command had worked correctly, but as the man placed the blaster atop his temple she left out a small sigh of relief.
“Pull the trigger.”
The man did as he was commanded, and the discharge resounded throughout the near silence of the hangar bay. His corpse collapsed to the flight deck a moment later, crumbling in upon itself as every command and control nerve within his skull was flash-fried. Such a scene had played out several times over again, as each and every single one of the Kashyyyk oathed ‘warriors’ were mercilessly gunned down by their own unwilling hands. Within minutes, Myra was surrounded by a myriad of corpses that had taken their own lives. She felt nothing for them, for they were simply following orders. Drones unworthy of the ground they walked upon, just as guilty as the master’s that guided their hands. Nevertheless, after the last trooper had taken his own life, the Commodore collected her pistol and turned towards the bound collection of Sith. The Gun of Command wouldn’t work on them, for no matter how hard she willed the weapon to work, the way that they conditioned their minds had made them somewhat immune to the majority of the sonic pistol’s effects. However, that didn’t matter. Myra didn’t need it for what was to come next. No, these bastards would feel something a little more personal than the enforced suggestions of the Gun of Command.
“Now,” She said with her lips curling into a vicious smile, “Get on your knees.”
At first, they resisted. That was to be expected. So, the Commodore had ordered her soldiers to kick out the back of their knees and forcibly drop them to the ground. Once such an act had been carried out, the woman held out her hand and ordered the nearest of her soldiers to hand over her combat knife. Without hesitation, the trooper withdrew her blade and passed it along to her commanding officer.
This was going to get bloody.
Stepping behind the kneeling form of the Sith warrior, Myra placed the serrated edge of her newly acquired combat blade against the supple flesh of her captive. She would’ve asked if he had any last words, but that would’ve meant she cared. Let them die like the animals they are, she thought to herself as the teeth slowly began to dig deep into his flesh. Much to her surprise, the man had kept his composure as thin runnels of blood began to slowly creep down his flesh. That mental discipline had been broken seconds later as she carved open his neck, letting the hot runnels of his life spill out onto her hand and the hangar deck thereafter. He gurgled in the vain attempt of defiance as the fleeting moments of his existence had come to a close. Stepping back and letting the body crumple to the floor, she let out an exasperated hoot of enjoyment. It felt good to get her hands dirty.
Placing the blood soaked blade back in the hands of the trooper who gifted it to her, the Commodore turned towards her soldiers and ordered them to do the same with those that remained.
Soon after, the deck ran red with the blood spilled by vengeful hearts.
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Alpharius
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Post by Alpharius on Feb 14, 2016 9:54:19 GMT -8
Concurrent to the Events on Garqi. Above the recently liberated world of Kashyyyk, where a coalition of Jedi and Hapan Consortium forces had fought together to dig the Sith out of their entrenched positions, several vessels bearing the scoured mark of the Republic dropped out of Hyperspace. With the fall of the corrupt government finally coming to pass, many of the errant Republic Navy elements had found themselves without orders to follow. They had the choice of going home, that was always available to them, but now that the Galactic Senate was out of the way, those still serving aboard the various warships that now populated Kashyyyk's skies - felt something stir within their hearts. The passion that was once felt at the dawning of the Republic's Golden Age, yet had been smothered by the incompetence of their Military Commanders and the Nefarious plots of those holding a Political Office in years past. Finally free, and having heard rumours about a courageous Jedi Master and his spandex-clad companion, these various elements of the former Republic Navy had come together to swear themselves to build the bulk of the Alliance's new-found Naval Forces.
Standing on the wide circular bridge of the Mediator-Class Battlecruiser, 'Triumph', Admiral Astarii Saren couldn't help but smile. She stood alone before her command throne in the traditional beige battledress of the Rendili Home Defense Fleet and had found herself embroiled in a conversation occurring on two fronts. To absent observers, it looked as if the woman had been speaking to herself, but as they came closer to her person and the thin crystalline matrix of the projector pad came into view, one could see that she wasn't alone - nor talking to herself like a madwoman. Instead, the Admiral was engaged in an entertaining conversation with her fellow Ship Captains in regards to what needed to be done. Her thin smile had come into play after one of her comrades had made a point of mentioning what needed to be done - if the rumors had any truth in them. With the reports of Imperial activity on the rise and the Republic (Though it couldn't have countered the threat with any efficacy, in her opinion.) dismantled, there was no-one that would be able to stop them should they set their eyes upon the rest of the Galaxy. That was until the new-found Alliance was made ready, and had played their hand. What a surprise it would be, She mused as the conversation progressed on without her attention.
After several heartbeats of personal reflection, Astarii's mind had begun reverting to it's more militant state, depriving her lips of the thin smile. "Gentlemen," She spoke, softly silencing the rampant conversation with her authoritative tone. "Thank you for coming. With the Republic finally done, we're facing a possible threat of invasion from the Imperial Sector." Astarii paused for a fleeting moment to smirk sheepishly, before resuming her address, "I know, speculation and rumours are not a reliable source of information, nor should they be taken with anything less than a grain of salt. However, the Jedi have deemed this possibility too real for us to ignore. So, with the help of our asset, I've called you all here today to swear an oath of allegiance of sorts. I know each, and every one of you has duties to your Homeworlds, and what I'm asking would place you and your crews on the front lines, should this threat prove to be real." Before she had even signalled that her piece was said, several of the gathered Captains had professed their affirmations. Not because she had made a rousing speech - as she knew it didn't stir anything in her blood, nor those around her that had listened in - but due to the similar mindset they had in regards to this rising shadow. The others had taken their time before responding, and the Admiral couldn't blame them. She was asking them to do the impossible, and such was not to be taken lightly. After some time spent in silence, the remaining Captains had made their choice. Few had severed the hololithic link and departed the Kashyyyk system while the others had nodded in agreement with their colleagues.
Out of all the assembled Captains and Admirals, Astarii was the only one who had known how important such a gathering as this was. Not only to the asset, who by now was robbing a train upon some misbegotten world; but to the Galaxy itself.
Who better to stand up in the face of adversity, than the people who populate the very systems the Imperials may seek to sink their polished fangs into?
Her smile returned then, as the flow of conversation had turned towards the logistics effort and how they would approach the future with what technology they had at their disposal. Old Republic comm chatter would've been monitored, and anything further back would be registered into the database - and were also most likely being watched. Thus, they would have to devote their time to making new source codes and hacking into transmission hubs to establish the new, and more secure methods of communication. That would take some time, and their efforts couldn't solely be focused on such a task. Therefore, Admiral Saren had made the suggestion of recruitment and establishing dozens of bases throughout the galaxy to keep an eye on Imperial activity. Several could simply be watch posts while others would've been sector staging areas and refit points. In truth, it didn't matter what they were - as long as they were there and able to suit the task at hand.
The day began to carry on as each and every vessel's commander had spoken up in regards to what should be done, and every time an idea was presented they discussed it at length. Sometimes, with fire and brimstone, and other times with cold empirical logic. And so, the foundations of the Rebellion had been set - now it was time for the Empire's fanatical remnant to make their play.
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Post by Ver'metus on Feb 16, 2016 20:31:01 GMT -8
*A YT-2400 exits from hyperspace, it was painted black, and heavily modified. the pilot making sure to come out of hyperspace as late as he possibly could, he had heard that there was conflicts in the past over the wookiees home planet, but was out of date on its current state, and he could not afford interruption, or to be slowed down by complications. The ship heads straight towards the planet, and into atmosphere.*
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Makhai Winters on Feb 23, 2016 20:50:09 GMT -8
*The YT 2400 rises up from Kashyyyk's surface in the Shadowlands. The two beings aboard, quickly pilot the vessel away from the planet and insert jump coordinates. In a few seconds the light freighter disappears from sight as it jumps into hyperspace.*
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Post by Stormacht Undom on Nov 2, 2016 20:32:43 GMT -8
A theta class shuttle enters the kashykk orbit out of hyperspace with a destination in mind The shuttle heads to the planet surface, stormacht with a goal in mind looks over to azoth Land at these coordinates Azoth: Understood the shuttle heads to the surface to those coordinates only a select few know where he is going.
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Apr 1, 2017 16:32:51 GMT -8
Archais's shuttle undertook the half-hour journey to the Dysnomia. After docking, the Sith Lord stepped from the cabin to the landing ramp with an escort already waiting, at the head of which was the commander of the ship and most of the Imperium's resources, Admiral Ferris. A greying man of longer years, Ferris had a look of gravity as he passed a datapad into Archais's waiting hand. Without more than a passing glance, he eyed the datapad and parsed through reports as Ferris began speaking.
We've been analyzing the incoming data for some time, sir, and now that the conflict is reaching a head I thought it best to brief you." "Conflict?" said Archais, continuing to read as the grouped moved through the ship's various corridors to the bridge. "Yes. It seems for the past few months various factions of Jedi have coalesced into some manner of alliance against a growing threat of various antagonistic forces." Archais chortled at that, a laugh entirely without mirth. "Jedi unifying, now I have seen everything. Here I thought they'd been so plagued with infighting they'd never see a threat until it stabbed them in the back. It's been me holding the knife enough times." "Yes. What concerns us is not the Jedi, but rather, the threat they've united against."
Archais thumbed to the next page in the report as the turbolift door opened to lead them from the hangar, and he read the next passage simultaneously with Ferris's explanation.
"Sith. They've strung together a formidable power base and are waging open war on the Jedi."
Archais stood still a moment, thinking. Ferris had been with him since before he'd left the Empire, the last major Sith attempt to extinguish the Jedi through martial means. It had changed him utterly to be a part of that, and Ferris knew how personally he took his oath to end any Sith who threatened their order with such overt action.
He knew too that nothing like this could've fomented in mere weeks. It was probably for that reason that Ferris was the only one not to visibly react as the datapad was crushed in Archais's open hand and hurled into the bulkhead like a ball of flimsi.
"How long have you known?! How long was I invalidated while my life's work has been made a mockery of?!
He didn't wait for an answer as he spun about, looking to vent his sudden anger. He cast out an open hand, reaching to one of the berthed starfighters. He made a fist, and the ship shook visibly before he made a sweeping gesture punctuated by an animal snarl. The ship strained, metal snapped, and the fighter tumbled across the hangar before colliding with a far wall in a fiery explosion.
He paced back and forth like a caged nexu, his mind racing as his vision ran red. Nothing was so sacred to him as this, and nothing more important to him than ending this before the damage became irreversible. His rational mind struggled to assert dominance over the dark side's catalyzed rage, and after a few moments the red in his vision began to recede. He took a calming breath, ceased his pacing, and stood still as fire crews raced past to extinguish the smoldering starfighter. He turned to Ferris, looking past the clearly nervous gazes of the escort.
"What do we know?"
He spent the next hour listening to a dozen different reports in the ship's conference room, listing known troops movements, planetary fortifications, major players, and other details that painted a picture of a war he needed to be in. This was another battle for the very heart of the dark side, and lest the fools who dared invoke the Sith name bumble their way into defeat it would fall to Archais to ensure that the Jedi remained sufficiently divided to protect his own interests. It was such that, after some six hours of briefings, he'd concocted a plan. Ten minutes thereafter, Archais and his entourage were walking the opposite way, making for the hangar. Already Archais was donning additional weapons, picked up a gear bag and was affixing a suit of flight armor.
"Ensure assets are in place in rendezvous sectors alpha through gamma. Expect communication blackout for at least thirty days, at which point I will make contact with the Alliance and infiltrate. I will leave information on the First Order in dead drop location H-17, and until then ensure that the ship is kept dark. I entrust the liquid assets of the Second Imperium to you, Ferris."
"Thank you, sir," said Ferris, watching as Archais approached an A-wing fighter, one of the few they'd managed to pilfer from Jedi strongholds over the years. This one had been heavily modified but still retained the bulk of its factory components. It was a mercenary's vessel, and one that suited Archais's new mission well. Archais approached the cockpit and, after storing his gear bag, looked back.
Good luck, Darth Archais." Archais fixed his flight helmet in place, his usual voice replaced by the mechanical overtones of the voice filter.
"Call me Jest."
With that, he hopped into the pilot seat, the engines roared, and a moment later Darth Archais was gone. The Dysnomia followed suit moments later, both gone to the winds of the galaxy.
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Ambar Calmcacil
Member
Posts: 29
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Ambar Calmcacil on Jul 30, 2017 12:52:18 GMT -8
*Despite being a strategic location, Kashyyyk's air defenses were, for the time being, minimal. The most noteworthy vessel was an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer belonging to Ambar Calmcacil, known as Redemption By Blood. A few smaller cruisers and ships sprinkled the starscape, and they had put in a request to Alliance shipyards for additional support, but so far they had not yet received it. This made the captain of the Star Destroyer both impatient and also cautious, particularly if the First Order suddenly decided the world was desirable... or if the Sith sought revenge. All the same, he would defend this position, to the death if he had to, but the more support he had, the better...*
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Post by Zordo The Hutt on Feb 18, 2019 13:59:36 GMT -8
Exiting hyperspace over the forest world of Kashyyyk, five ships from the Hutt Cartel, appeared over the planet. Standing on the bridge of the Dor'bulla-Class Warship leading the small fleet, was Vrossk Kodra, a Trandoshan slaver under the employ of Zordo the Hutt. Tasked with claiming the Wookiee homeworld, Kodra would ensure that the Wookiees were enslaved, by the end of the day. Claiming Kessel had bolstered the Cartel's economy. Now able to afford to aggressively expand, the Cartel was looking to expand inward, to the Mid Rim. Not wanting to stretch their territory out too far yet, the Cartel stuck to a small clump of space. Barking orders, the Trandoshan began his attack on Kashyyyk...
"Launch fightersss! Prepare ground forcesss for attack, yesss...the hunt beginsss!"
Batil fighters were launched from the warships as they pushed closer to the planet...
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Aloriya Marev
Member
Posts: 27
Affiliation: [quote]Clan Marev, Mandalorian Assembly[/quote]
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aloriya Marev on Jan 5, 2020 21:24:51 GMT -8
*The Muun'bajir, a Keldabe Class Battleship Drops from hyperspace and approaches the forest planet Kashyyk*
A Battle Legionnaire on the bridge of the Muun'bajir sent a silent communication to BL-93 reporting to the droid commander that they had arrived at Kashyyk.
Miss Aloriya, We have exited Hyperspace and are approaching Kashyyk.
Waking up to the droid's voice for the first time startled Aloriya, however she almost immediately remembered that she had instructed the droid to wake her upon completion of the Hyperspace Trip. She wasn't used to the droid yet as she had only bought it perhaps an hour before they had made the jump to hyperspace. She got up and began to get dressed.
Thank you, BL. How long until orbit?
BL-93 confered with the BL on the bridge for a moment.
We will be in Kashyyk's Oribit in 37.5 standard minutes Miss Aloriya.
Aloriya began braiding her hair.
Excellent. Please ask Alor'ad Atin to do a system scan, then report the findings- how are you communicating with the bridge?
I have Stationed one of the other BL units on the bridge. The rest of the units have been placed in the drop seats of the Kom'yrk after being outfitted with jetpacks, as per your instructions.
Aloriya turned and noticed that BL-93 was also wearing a jetpack on his back. Then turned back around as she finished braiding her hair and started to put her armor on.
The captain reports that the system scan has shown 6 ships other than our own. There is a five ship fleet which includes a Dor'bulla-Class warship, and a lone Action VI transport.
Please have Alor'ad Atin contact the Action VI and the Dor'bulla-Class separately, but with the same message. Have him request a status update of the planet, and inform them of our intention to make planetfall.
At once, Miss Aloriya.
With 7.5 standard minutes to spare, according to BL-93, she reached the bridge fully clad in her armor with her buy'ce tucked under her left arm. her twin Westar-34s rode on her thighs, and her lightsaber hung prominently from the right side of her utility belt.
Any Reply yet Alor'ad?
None yet Alor'aan.
Then I guess we wait.
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Post by Xerxes Callais [RETIRED] on Jan 6, 2020 1:34:35 GMT -8
"The cargo wasn't that hard to deliver, doesn't it?"
"We lost half of it. I almost died! Twice!"
"Come on, Wan! You didn't even stain your furry grey ass"
"I still can smell my burn skin from your Taris' escapade!"
"Good memories"
"Suure"
The Ardennian was at the copilot's chair: having four dexterous arms came quite in handy -pun intended- piloting a ship. The consoles were lit up and levers were being pulled. Their last job had been a botched affair from the beginning, but at least they had been paid in good Imperial currency, those credits were on the raise -who in their senses would accept Gallactic Alliance coin as payment?-. Xerxes didn't wear helmet or armor but a flight suit, his black Falleen hair loose over his reptilian face. The door to the cabin slid and appeared a male Trandoshan, well-built and as frightening as any of his kind, he shared a short kiss with Xerxes before taking a seat on the pilot chair.
"Hey, hey the best pilot to have ever made the Dressel run is back"
"Oh, ssssshut up, that'sss not even fair! The Dug cheated on me!"
His punches Xerxes on the shoulder.
"Owwww, you upset still about that Zarsk?"
"Hey, boys, quit your disgusting romantic charade, we got company"
"What? Company?"
They had received a message.
"A comm? From a Kedalbe battleship? We should really start revving the engines. And prepare the deflector shields, they come armed to the teeth"
"We ssssshould check what are their intentionsss firssst"
"I hope it doesn't include vaporization and merciless murder!"
Said the Ardennian, Wan Tyco, flapping his four arms at once.
"Oh, shut up"
Xerxes leans on the console, taps on the comm speaker and forwards a message.
"Hey, you there, Mandos"
He hoped they were indeed Mandalorians, but who else could crew that ship these days.
"Here the Loth-wolf, we wonder what your intentions are in forwarding us a message. Been blown to bits isn't a hobby of us"
And he cuts the communications, sending the message to the newcomers.
"You're abssssolutely terrible"
Said the lizard, smiling, the farked tongue in and out.
"You never say that when we're in the cabin"
"Oh please, you two shut up, I don't want to imagine you both... mating"
"Your losssssss"
"Definetely"
Fist bumps.
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