Corellia's Open Orbit

*The shuttle pilot waited patiently for a response. Two minutes later, he received the notification clearing him for landing at the Temple hangar. He responded:*

"Thank you. Commencing landing now."

*With that, the Marketta-class shuttle engaged its engines once more and streaked down to the planet below...*

*After the completion of the ships, several transports arrive from the outer rims with droids to collect the vessels. Credits are transfered from an account in the outer rim as well to staisfy payment. The droids begin inspections of the ships and download the needed information to begin all operations. After several minutes, the droids board the ships and begin the sequence of taking off. Soone the 12 vessels are in formation and head out of the atmospehre. The droids request clearance for departure and jump to hyperspace.*

A Nemesis-class patrol ship emerges from hyperspace and, after adjusting its heading to begin an approach towards Vreni Island in Corellia's southern hemisphere, slows its speed to contact the planet's orbital traffic controllers (OTC).

Razmik, the ship's captain, opens a comm channel to Corellia's OTC, saying, This is Ramik Grigoryan, Captain of the Gledalac, requesting a flight plan to Vreni Island, over.

Alessia, the ship's co-pilot, rubs her eyes tiredly as she asks, "You want me to handle the handoff, or reaching out to CorSec? We're ahead of schedule, so one of us should probably make for Coronet ASAP. Tilting her head to the side, she asks, Or would it be better to wait, see how things go?"

"Probably best to let CorSec know we're in their sandbox sooner rather than later. If our new friends aren't ready and waiting, perhaps you'd best leave as soon as we set down. They'll probably be expecting me, so I think I should be on hand. As they don't want to risk some dim-witted knuckle dragging member of CorSec's brass blowing their cover, Razmik, who has always found it pays to have friends in other law enforcement agencies, says, I know someone we can reach out to in order to make sure we don't risk stepping on any toes. Someone who knows how to play things without exposing us."

"Sounds good," Alessia says, settling in to wait for the clearance to land. Though the crew are all Sector Rangers, they are undercover, and so their ship and identities will all show up in law enforcement databases as civilian; all members of the crew having, by necessity, some criminal history attached to their names, though the offenses are all in their pasts, and comprised predominantly of smaller offenses that explain why they are not behind bars somewhere.

Many thanks, Razmik cheerily tells the controller as he nods for Alessia to begin inputting the course they have been sent. Closing the comm channel, Razmik claps his hands together and says, "Well, that went well, didn't it?"

Grinning with an eyebrow cocked in amusement, Alessia says, "No reason I can think of it wouldn't have. As she finishes laying in their course and increases their speed while adjusting their heading, Alessia asks, So, who is the friend you want me to meet with?"

"Lovely lass by the name of Arienne, Razmik says, explaining briefly, Undercover operative for CorSec that I worked with in the past. She may even be able to offer some insight into our new friends if we're very lucky." Taking his datapad from a pocket as they continue on towards Corellia's surface, Razmik sends a holonet message to Agent LaGyle requesting that she meet with one of his comrades in a place and at a time convenient to her.

Resting his hand lightly on the closet’s doorframe, Han stared at his old uniform. Oh the memories it brought back.

The oldest memories, of when he first put the uniform on… the proud young cadet being assigned a gruff old mentor… his mentor’s praise after a well-flown mission… that first rescue mission where everything was textbook perfect... the last mission where nothing... his failure... his mentor’s capture…

No! I won’t go there! I did everything I could. I flew hard. I fought hard.

The Corp had understood his need. They all had. The Commandant himself approved the mission. Han took only volunteers with him.

They wanted to come. He was… is… important to us all.

Fierce fighting in the streets… blaster flashes lit up the night as everything went wrong.

Han’s head was now resting on the doorframe. The flood of memories was nearly overwhelming.

The Devorian had better security than they had expected but this was personal. Han’s team drove the Devorian’s forces back to their stronghold and lay siege.

A single tear slid down Han’s cheek.

Knowing that time was short, Han had called for a frontal assault. Although his team was small, they knew they were fighting for… or so they thought. They fought hard. As they penetrated the outer perimeter, they found…

No!

Han stemmed the tears and brought his breathing back under control. The training he had received with the Corp allowed him to control his body, but not his mind...

Now they fought for vengeance. The team had been reduced to a third of what it had been but anger drove them on. The Devorian was on the run now. Using his captives as living shields… shields Han’s team shot down…

Children. They were just children.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder.

”Han,” Katrin’s voice was gentle. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen her guardian lost in the past. “You really should get rid of that thing. You haven’t worn it since before you met me.”

“I know,” his head came back up but he continued to stare at the uniform… at the past. “If it wasn’t for this uniform, I never would have met you. We wouldn’t be on the run now.”

“I wouldn’t be free now,” this part of the conversation was always the same. “You keep saying we can’t live in the past. We need to keep moving forward. Well? Do you mean that or are you just a big hypocrite?”

Han grinned slightly. “You didn’t even know the word hypocrite until I taught it too you.” With a sigh he closed the closet and turned to the young Cathar he regarded as a daughter. “Alright, back to work. Are we there yet?”

Returning the grin, Katrin replied "Yeah. I was actually on my way to tell you we're about to drop back to sublight. Seven says you only have a few minutes to get back to the cockpit or he'll have to fly us in."

"That tin-can fly us into one of the most heavily guarded planets in the galaxy? Over my dead body."

The two bantered as they made their way to the ship's cockpit where Han strapped himself into the pilot's seat, Katrin the copilot's. A quick glance at the instruments told Han everything was proceeding right on schedule and the astromech beeped his reassurance just as they emerged from hyperspace.

"All clear behind us," Katrin reported as they went through there usual re-entry routine. "Doesn't look like we were followed."

"Excellent. Everything ahead looks normal." Through the view port they could see a handful of ships going between orbital factories and the planet's surface. A couple of fighters, appearantly with CorSec, took up positions near their ship. Han keyed the comm...

"Corellia Control, this the transport Deadalus requesting landing clearance. We're sending our codes now."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a wide yawn as he enters the cockpit, Fumnanya asks his co-pilot, "Are we there yet?"

Dikeledi looks over her shoulder, nose crinkling as she arches an eyebrow incredulously and waves a hand towards the YT-2400's forward viewport to point out Corellia hanging amidst the stars ahead of them, and asks with as much sarcasm and disdain as she can muster, "What do you think?"

Laughing as he slips on his dual shoulder holster, Fumnanya asks, "Have I ever done anything about your constantly insubordinate tone and attitude? Sometimes I think I should."

Rolling her eyes, Dikeledi grins as she says, "Too late, you've set the precedent of putting up with it. Besides, she adds as Fumnanya settles into the pilot's chair, I'm starting to think you like the abuse. Masochistic personality disorder is my diagnosis."

Snorting a laugh with a shake of his head, Fumnanya begins opening a comm channel to Corellia's planetary traffic controllers as he says, "Well, I do keep you on the payroll, so you just might be on to something. Once the comm channel is open, Fumnanya says, This is the Geheim Masjien requesting permission to land in Coronet Spaceport, over. Leaning back in his seat and combing his fingers through his tousled blonde hair as he waits for landing permission to be granted, Fumnanya frowns as he says, I don't know about you, but I kinda wish they wanted this delivery someplace a bit less carefully watched than Coronet Spaceport is likely to be. Riskier than I'd like," he goes on after his hair has been smoothed out as much as he plans to worry about it.

"And yet you agreed to make the delivery there anyway, Dikeledi observes wryly with an amused smile, Kinda masochistic, don't you think?"


The Geheim Masjien, records will show, is registered to Fumnanya Jang. Records will also show that Jang is a thirty year old native Corellian, though he is neither Corellian nor only thirty years old. Records will also show that neither Jang nor his ship have been involved in any crimes, even though both he and the ship have been involved in many, most involving the transport of illegal goods. A combination of luck and careful planning have, thusfar in his lengthy criminal career, allowed Fumnanya to avoid or elude being caught by any authorities.

Frowning when informed there is a chance they will face an inspection once they set down, Fumnanya tells the traffic controller, "Thanks control, we'll start headin' down now. After closing the comm channel, he asks his co-pilot, Any reason we should worry about that inspection."

"The might be, maybe one? Dikeledi, sounding unconcerned, asks, and then shakes her head, opining, Nope. I had Sango and Nkosana move anything we wouldn't want inspected into the usual hidey-holes, and we still have all those crates of scrap and droid parts sitting in the hold if we want to use that old cover story."

"Sweet, Fumnanya says as he makes the course adjustments their assigned flight path requires and begins their trip from orbit to the spaceport. Make sure that Sango and NKosana dust those crates off so they don't look like they've been sitting around for as long as they have."

Moments later, the Geheim Masjien enters Corellia's upper atmosphere as it continues its journey to Coronet.

CDF SPC Marcellino D'Avanzo, one of many planetary traffic controllers on duty when the Redemption reverts to realspace after its hyperspace journey, curses under his breath when the vessel first appears, the fact its transponder does not identify it as a CDF or Resistance ship requiring that he move quickly to notify the right beings so that they, in turn, can set the right events in motion to ensure that if the ship proves to be hostile or the tip of a proverbial spear Corellia can mount a proper defense.

Before Commander Cracken even contacts the CDF, SPC D'Avanzo's expedient adherence to protocol has caused just the kind of stir Commander Cracken anticipated. The CDF Pellaeon-class Destroyer, Thyia, being the vessel nearest to where the Redemption arrived, has begun to maneuver onto an intercept course, her starfighter pilots waiting in their cockpits in her hangar for the order to launch should it be deemed necessary; the nearest space station able to accommodate the repair of a vessel the size of the Redemption is made aware of the situation so that it can begin preparing its personnel; and CDF Admiral Orsina Biancardi is notified of the Redemption's arrival and subsequent transmission to the CDF so that she can manage the events with the authority required to take timely action.

Admiral Biancardi instructs D'Avanzo to request that the Redemption hold its position, identify its commanding officer, and transmit the correct response to a challenge phrase used by the CDF to verify whether a ship has fallen under enemy control or whether its commanding officer is acting under some form of duress. The relief when the response from Commander Cracken responds in such a way that the CDF can be reasonably certain that he is not only who he claims to be, but also that he has no figurative or literal blaster pointed at his head.

Acting on Admiral Biancardi's instructions, D'Avanzo reopens the comm channel to say, his voice evidencing far less tension than it had initially, Redemption, you have been cleared to dock at the CDF Cardan III-class space station, Eunike, for repairs. Sending an encrypted datapacket to the Redemption, D'Avanzo continues, Your assigned course has been sent, and you may begin approach immediately. Medical personnel will be on hand to treat any injured you may have, and repairs will begin once your vessel has been inspected and its damage assessed. Be advised that CDF Admiral Biancardi is currently enroute to the Eunike, and intends to debrief the senior ranking officers. And, welcome home, D'Avanzo concludes before the transmission ends.

CDF Cardan III-class space station, Eunike

As the Redemption's personnel begin to disembark, they are soon met by the large number of medical personnel - both organic and robotic - that had been assembled to treat the wounded. With the large number of injured and wounded they will need to treat, the medical personnel begin their work by assigning the wounded as they disembark or are helped to do so with a color coded tag to ensure that the more seriously wounded are treated first, with first priority given to stabilizing any critical cases that are not deemed to be beyond hope.

A number of CDF chaplains of various denominations are present as well, on hand to offer spiritual comfort to those in need of it, as well as several mid-level officers and their aides who have been given the task of attempting to verify the identities of all the personnel disembarking from the Redemption to not only begin notification of families who have been waiting to learn of the fates of the servicemen and women who had not been heard from for some time, but also to ensure that not enemy intelligence agents are attempting to infiltrate the CDF along with the Redemption's actual personnel. Engineering, scanning, intelligence gathering, and EOD crews board the Redemption as soon as they are able to do so, assessing the damage sustained by the vessel as well as searching for any nasty surprises it may yet contain while simultaneously searching it from top to bottom for any intelligence about the First Order it might contain.

Amidst all the finely coordinated chaos, CDF Admiral Orsina Biancardi - a deathly pale, thin, dark haired and tall female grey eyed Nagai dressed in an immaculately pressed CDF uniform - finds Commander Cracken after he and his senior ranking officers have been positively identified and, saluting him crisply, greets him in an even tone that manages to sound somewhat warm despite her military bearing, "Welcome home, Commander Cracken. Gesturing for Cracken to follow her, Orsina begins leading him and his senior ranking officers not urgently requiring medical treatment towards a less noisy area. I imagine, Orsina says as she motions towards a circular table surrounded by chairs with pitches and glasses of water arrayed on it, you all have quite the tale to tell. Before we get to that, she adds, is there anything you all need? Food, water, medical treatment?"