Star Wars: Rebellion Rising [IC/Open/Star Wars]

[Tayner]

Edvar Voss
Exiled Order
Katchan, Katchan System

---

Why Edvar was here, he didn't know. The Force lead him here, a disturbance that he couldn't place his finger on. Something in the Force disturbed him enough to put on a fancy set of clothes and come to this gala. He was sipping on water, scanning the room. Wealthy businessmen, noblility, Imperial Officers, the type of people he didn't normally associate with. But some alarm was ringing in the back of his head, the louder it got, the clearer the disturbance was. It wasn't until he saw her until the bells started to blast.

An officer of the Imperial Navy, lieutenant from her uniform. The disturbance was clear now, a conflict inside of her, one that was almost as old as she was. It didn't take the Force to see it, she was obviously disturbed. Maybe the recent news on Terminus, maybe something deeper than that. Voss approached her, putting down his glass on a waiter's tray as they passed by, and stopped about a yard, or maybe a little less, away from her. If she hadn't already, she probably noticed him now.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but are you alright?" He asked, not concerned of the bluntness of the question. She was likely to have him escorted out, or to say a few less than kind words at least, but it would be a beginning. The Force in her felt strong, conflicted, blackened. He'd have to try to change that, to save her from the Dark Side, to put it grandiosely. He couldn't quite place his thoughts on what was going to happen next, so he just stood there, plain faced, waiting for an answer.

---

Commander Biran Nalatracer
The Resonance, Task Force Lo
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran System

---

The corvette made her decent, landing outside of the old republic base. As the ramp lowered, Biran and his XO descended, with a team of Marines in tow, all in cold weather gear. "That's the place." Biran noted as the made their approach. "Contact the Marine CO, have him conduct some cold weather drills nearby, I expect that we'll be here for a little while." He ordered his XO before entering the building. "Have any off duty ship personnel join them. You too." He said. "You're not needed here."

"Aye sir." The XO said, before returning to the ship with the four marines. Biran entered the base, before ascending to the command area. Other leaders were also in the room, gathered around the holoprojector, some gazing out the windows, others conversing. Biran joined the couple who were starting out the window, studying the white out conditions. It almost had a certain beauty to it, if it weren't for how it felt. He looked back, towards the holoprojector, and the other commanders. Some were adorned in flight suits, others in cold weather gear like himself, but some wore military uniforms with high ranks on their chests.

This was certainly going to be really productive.

Or not.

[Spindle]

Periphery
Royal Chambers
Katchan

Cyrene's eyes spent a split-second flitting across Castaneda's form as he spoke, doing her best to pick out what she could. He seemed old - older than she knew he was - and lacking some of that...not drive, exactly. Not ambition, either. The glass so many Imperials had in their souls, which kept their victims far removed from themselves. He lacked that dissociation many Imperial officers had between themselves and those less fortunate than themselves. Justified, of course, but she hadn't expected to see it. Too many Imperials climbed the ranks only to turn their backs on their own class.

This one...not so much. Unless he was playing her, of course. Always a possibility to keep in mind.

Cyrene's smile was small. She loved this game so much.

"It is, isn't it?" She agreed, "Very Imperial - the dances are practically routine. I would offer, but I assume the cane isn't for show? I'm sure there's a story behind that..."

She tailed off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air.

[G-Tech Corporation]

Standard Orbit, Mintooine
Grand Admiral Jarnassus Kuat

The arrival of the Fealty in system was accompanied with less than the usual fanfare, and far more than the usual wailing of klaxons and collision alarms. On the deck of the Allegiance-class warship the Grand Admiral stood stolid, hands behind his back in the parade rest that had been inculcated into his psyche since his earliest days in flight school, while about him the controlled chaos of the bridge passed in synchronous order.

Just ahead of the Star Destroyer's armored prow, the lone threat to the incoming Imperial fleet swelled rapidly; a Mon Calamari MC80 frigate. Its shields shimmered in the reflected blue light of the ocean world below, and one of the comms officers sang out as the Fealty engine began their ordered burn.

"Admiral! I have a hail from a man in the Rebel fleet, a commanding officer."

A wave of Jarn's hand allowed the message through, and the near-purple face of a rebel admiral filled his vision, the ramshackle rank badges almost causing the Kuati's lips to curl in disdain at their aping of proper military discipline.

"Grand Admiral. I seek to negotiate the surrender of your fleet."

Well, he had balls. More balls than brains. With every passing second more of the immense flotilla originally slated to pacify Eriadu jumped into view coming out of hyperspace, and the odds against any rebellion victory grew longer. The Grand Admiral merely smiled.

"My surrender? Inform your officers that any vessel which fires upon the elements of my fleet engaged in peacekeeping duties here over Minntooine will be treated as a bandit and criminal, and given no quarter appropriately."

A chop of Jarn's hand severed the connection even as it had first allowed it, and red lasers began to swarm the rapidly-closing space between the Midnight Fleet's flagship and the Calamari vessel. Typical rebels, negotiate, then open fire when the negotiations were not to their liking. Just another band of brigands on the block for sedition. It would be simple, of course, to sweep aside these tiny fleet elements and reoccupy Minntooine. But that would not be an appropriate display of contempt- not for the Scion of Kuat.

The Emperor had had his own ideas about how to treat the restive Quarren, ideas the Grand Admiral had dutifully heard out with a mask of devotion upon his face, and then discarded. The Quarren were, in aggregate, a treacherous race of xenos. But even a treacherous race could not be condemned out of hand, not at this juncture. There were more effective means of cowing any resistance than the orbital apocalypse the Emperor had mused upon.

Harmlessly the fire of the MC80 dissipated against the Fealty's deflector shields, and as the larger vessel approached its target Kuat knew precisely the moment when the Rebel admiral realized his danger. Retrothrusters on the frigate fired at full burst, and the ship shifted in orbit- but not before the armored prow of the Star Destroyer intersected it just below the bridge in a spasm of industrial violence. The bridge crew of the Fealty didn't even feel the impact- the bulk of a battlecruiser like that upon which they stood was so much greater than its quarry that the inertial dampeners ate up the force of the blow with a voracious hunger which left the ship unaffected. Layers of durasteel and milisteel armor stiffened against the impact of bombs and torpedoes sheared through the lesser vessel's skeleton as a surgeon's blade parted flesh and sinew, a lethal ballet given voice.

No turbolaser did the Fealty fire as it clove the rebel flagship in twain. It had been a risky maneuver, coming out of hyperspace this close to the gravity well of Mintooine, but the observational data from a stealthship running silent near the edge of the system under ISB control had been good- and as the blasted wreckage of the frigate surged past the bridge of the Grand Admiral's ship, he smiled in grim satisfaction.

Across the rest of the system the heavy batteries of the other Imperial vessels dueled for a short time with the light ships of the Rebel fleet and its Quarren collaborators; but archaic vessels and ships designed for hit-and-run strikes against the all-big-gun designs of the Imperial Navy was a losing battle. A result swiftly borne out as many of the Quarren vessels were rapidly reduced to expanding fireballs, or striking their colors in the interest of survival. Against the more than two dozen heavy capital ships the Midnight Fleet wielded, resistance in anything other than the strongest terms was futile.

That was the Tarkin Doctrine in action. For those who lived faithfully in the embrace of the Empire never to know fear, for the might arrayed in their defense was unbreakable. And for those who plotted against her monolithic order to know only despair, for the retribution against their schemes and sedition was unstoppable, inexorable as the turning of the tides. The Grand Admiral nodded as one of his commanders inquired whether the time was right to begin landings on the planet, and as the silver tide descended on Minntooine Kuat knew only satisfaction at a job well done.

Perhaps the Emperor had wanted them to treat Minntooine as his dog, Clixon, had treated Terminus. But there was a better way. The guilty would pay for their crimes. The innocent would be spared. And the Emperor would have both his victory, and the Rebels their defeat. Another step back towards the path of enlightenment and order, and away from the abyss.

[Ormata]

Captain Jionni Castaneda
Katchan
Katchan System

Cyrene's smile was small. She loved this game so much.

"It is, isn't it?" She agreed, "Very Imperial - the dances are practically routine. I would offer, but I assume the cane isn't for show? I'm sure there's a story behind that..."

“There is,” came the sharp reply, Jionni’s back unconsciously straightening. Failures were just stepping stones, one might say, but you would always remember them and there was always a black hole where a victory might have been placed, where lives could have been saved but weren’t due to failings in a single person. He still could recall the circumstances of it and damned if he wasn’t going to make that part of life correct.

“It’s not something I prefer to dwell on. Old memories should be left when you want to think of the future. Thank you, though, for the offer,” a little smile came to his face; it had been years since he had danced, truly danced, and while Jionni never found it particularly stirring the lack thereof made it all the more alluring. Besides that fact, well, to dance with certain individuals was a great joy to behold and this woman was most definitely one of those. Granted, while she was a bit on the lesser height scale, the hair cascaded down like satin curtains, promising something more. Ms. Aurelia’s eyes were like storm clouds far below, like the jewel of Coruscant. It reminded him of others.

“I’m not a fan of the dances. Not enough...energy.”

---

Lieutenant Leah Pearce
Katchan
Katchan System

"Excuse me, ma'am, but are you alright?" He asked, not concerned of the bluntness of the question. She was likely to have him escorted out, or to say a few less than kind words at least, but it would be a beginning. The Force in her felt strong, conflicted, blackened. He'd have to try to change that, to save her from the Dark Side, to put it grandiosely. He couldn't quite place his thoughts on what was going to happen next, so he just stood there, plain faced, waiting for an answer.

She’d been thinking.

Say what you want of the gala, of all the things about her, but Leah had the ringing in her ear and still couldn’t shake it away. She could have made the excuses, said she felt sick and couldn’t attend, done one thing or another, but that would have warranted a visit by the ship’s doctor and when that Corulag bastard found nothing to be wrong perhaps they would have tried other avenues of treatment. Leah didn’t exactly want that, no not at all, and besides that fact she didn’t much like the doctor himself. He was a sneering bastard with “Hail the Emperor” on his lips as though it were a prayer.

Man probably thought it was.

And so, when interrupted by this man, the woman turned about, noticing him and her eyes coming into focus. She’d been standing near the back, not at all wanting to be asked to dance and honestly doubting that it would occur to begin with. Metal arms weren’t common and most viewed them as symbols of poverty, especially those of the class wherein a synthetic hand, one more lifelike, was easier to come by than a handful of single credit notes. It was a blessing, to be frank. They were bastards, for the most part.

“I’m fine. Just thinking. Lieutenant Pearce, at your service,” the XO said, cocking her head in a curt nod at the man.

---

DP-20 Under Investigation
Cutlass-9 Under Investigation (1)
Concussion Missiles Under Installation (4)
Quad Laser Cannons Under Installation (4)
Double Turbolaser Cannons Under Installation (2)

---

Active

Destroyed/Damaged

Missile Strikes
3x Nebulon-B Destroyed
1x DP-20 Damaged, Heavy
Captured

Dogfight
18x Cutlass-9 Destroyed
1x Cutlass-9 Damaged, Captured

Isaac’s Wrath - Imperial-II Frigate - Damaged, Heavy, Drydock
Charyboym - Sentinel Gunship - Damaged, Light
Tririyam - Sentinel Gunship

Kilo - 10x TIE/IN - 2x Damaged, Under Repair
Viktor - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Echo - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Delta - 10x TIE/IN

Zulu - 10x TIE/sa, 5x TIE/IT

[Spindle]

Periphery
Royal Chambers
Katchan

His initial response was fast, sharp...defensive? Perhaps. She hadn't been able to find out too much about his past from purely casual digging, and she hadn't had time for more in-depth digging to be covered up. She'd known that had blinded her, but it had seemed an acceptable trade-off at the time. It still was, of course. This was just the initial meeting: they could always meet again, by chance or design. Still, having a string to pluck but not knowing how to pluck it was irksome to the nobleborn deep inside her; the part which demand subservience from one and all.

She'd long since harnessed and muzzled its indignant rage: its new stirrings didn't affect her.

As he mentioned his lack of energy she tilted her head slightly in swift, silent acknowledgement. She couldn't imagine what that truly meant just yet - not until she was decades older than he was now - and she was never going to understand what it meant to have the last years of true youth taken from her. Not in the physical sense, at least. So she attempted no sympathy, and suspected he wanted no pity. She acknowledged it simply, understood what it meant and gave him the best she could could before carrying onwards:

"Of course."

She paused for a moment before reaching out and took a glass of acid-green, transparent liquid, sniffing it and sipping at it. Her lips thinned.

"Captain, the TIE complement of your command was unique amongst all those I've seen. If you don't mind my asking - why?"

[Tayner]

Jedi Knight Edvar Voss
Jedi Order in Exile
Katchan, Katchan System

---

"I’m fine. Just thinking. Lieutenant Pearce, at your service.” She said, nodding to him. To his surprise he caught her unawares on his approach, the festivities of the gala covering his already light step. She spoke confidently, but almost reserved as if she'd rather return to her thoughts. Edvar wouldn't blame her. He took note of her uniform, a few decorations amongst the grey dress uniform. He also took note of her prosthetic, previously concealed by her uniform.

"Honored to meet you, Lieutenant. Edvar Kwan, at yours." He said, retaining his real identity for the time being. As he spoke he put out his hand, and she accepted the handshake with her prosthetic. It wasn't something she was ashamed of, like many amputees were, at least, although he figured he wouldn't push the subject yet. Instead he continued on off of her thought. "I also do a lot of thinking these days, so much conflict. Thinking about the past, the future, thinking about how I don't want to be here, and I think you don't either." He said, overplaying the word 'think.'

Although he didn't think, he knew. She was obviously uncomfortable in this setting, going out of her way to stay unnoticed. Although, the force within her was very noticeable. How an Imperial officer managed to avoid the inquisitioners with the force like that, he didn't know. Maybe she trained herself how to sense them, how to hide from them, how to hide the darkness. But a shadow hidden in a shadow still can't hide from the light, to put it poetically. So he studied her, as she spoke, her body language, the force as it flowed in her.

[Ormata]

Captain Jionni Castaneda
Katchan
Katchan System

"Of course."

She paused for a moment before reaching out and took a glass of acid-green, transparent liquid, sniffing it and sipping at it. Her lips thinned.

"Captain, the TIE complement of your command was unique amongst all those I've seen. If you don't mind my asking - why?"

So she’d done her reading. Curious, that; most people involved in such galas were not of the sort to worry themselves on military matters, not the sort to care about the peculiarities on certain commands, nor had the ability to see which command had what aspects. They didn’t have the connections to do so, though they always had the potential to discover those peculiarities. Most simply didn’t care about it. This one? This one did. Most curious, that, though Jionni did not let the oddity of it show. They had the ability to know about it and apparently one had used it, either from boredom or the honest interest in the knowledge.

“If you had the power to protect lives, to keep your family and those under you safe, to better fight an enemy, and if that was as easy as handing a better tool to them, wouldn’t you?”

The answer was derisive, an acid response with disdain at the question for it did not know and was not aware of the simplicities involved, of the moral aspects. In his mind it was the telltale classical sensibilities of the noble, the idea that there was something more than a moral answer to a military question. It was an Imperial question, one without passion or spirit, and one in his eyes without sympathy, caring.

Stars, did he dislike nobles.

He took another breath, calming himself from a rise in heart rate that he had not checked before, one he should have checked before yet didn’t. Another failing. A small smile came on his face with the comforting excuse that perhaps she was too young to know of such things, too immersed than her culture that she had never looked out of a window into the real world. Perhaps that, yes. That was always a possibility. Jionni closed his eyes for just a moment with the breath, before looking at her again.

“It’s a pity that my command is unique, then. More should care.”

---

Lieutenant Leah Pearce
Katchan
Katchan System

"Honored to meet you, Lieutenant. Edvar Kwan, at yours. I also do a lot of thinking these days, so much conflict. Thinking about the past, the future, thinking about how I don't want to be here, and I think you don't either." He said, overplaying the word 'think.'

“Then why are you here?” Leah stabbed the question out, ignoring the attempt at getting her away from the gala. While tempting, true, she was remarkably also aware of the facts in splitting one individual away from the group, of isolating one piece of prey for an easier kill, and the idea wasn’t lost on her for Rebel attempts at assassination, drugging, or other such methods. While she was surrounded by others, well, she was safe. Leah drank little, poured her own drinks, and kept a good eye on them, and attempts at drugging a person required them to be taken-away without notice, something impossible while being surrounded. It was tempting, yet she kept her wits about here.

In fact, the man’s speech was suspicious to begin with. His choice of words, talking of conflict when that never came up, of the past and future when neither was thought of at a gala, save perhaps for the future by those administrators who could not leave work at home, that was odd. The man’s accent was muddled, too, a Coruscanti blend with some little portions from...well, she couldn’t place those bits and pieces.

A viper’s smile came on her, and with a gentle touch Leah reached-out with the Force, attempting to find whatever might be in his mind.

---

DP-20 Under Investigation
Cutlass-9 Under Investigation (1)
Concussion Missiles Under Installation (4)
Quad Laser Cannons Under Installation (4)
Double Turbolaser Cannons Under Installation (2)

---

Active

Destroyed------Damaged------Captured
3x Nebulon-B
18x Cutlass-9
1x DP-20
1x Cutlass-9

Isaac’s Wrath - Imperial-II Frigate - Damaged, Heavy, Drydock
Charyboym - Sentinel Gunship - Damaged, Light
Tririyam - Sentinel Gunship

Kilo - 10x TIE/IN - 2x Damaged, Under Repair
Viktor - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Echo - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Delta - 10x TIE/IN

Zulu - 10x TIE/sa, 5x TIE/IT

[Tayner]

Jedi Knight Edvar Voss
Jedi Order in Exile
Katchan, Katchan System

---

“Then why are you here?” She asked curtly.

Because I sensed a disturbance in the force. He thought to himself in an instant, almost sarcastically.

"The same reason you are I guess, those above us 'requested' our presence." He said with a hand wave excuse, likely not fully satisfying for her inquiry. It didn't take a genius or a Jedi to realize she was growing suspicious, but she was wrong about the motives. He watched her as she began to study him, as the tried to discern his motives. It didn't take long for her to give his mind a poke through the force, looking so smug as she did so.

Her expression changed rapidly once she realized that she poked a durasteel bulkhead. He returned the smug look, smile and all. "Not that easy." He said, leaning his head to the side. He remembered his training on Ryloth, his old master training his mind more than anything, more than any other muscle on his body. She had him meditate, reflect, study, and meditate more. He'd spend days in dimmed rooms, meditating, pushing the hunger pains out of his mind, all the while building up his fortitude both mentally and physically. "Don't worry, I'm not with the Inquisitioners, or the Rebels." He reassured.

"You're self trained, aren't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. He could sense the fear in her, no matter how small. It fueled her efforts to disguise herself from the inquisition, and guided her life. She was afraid of the force, like many soldiers were afraid of guns that were pointed at them. She used it as a tool, maybe even a weapon, treading into the dark side, or at least that's what he could surmise. Although there was still something deeper that he couldn't quite place his finger one, something much more corrupted with darkness.

[Spindle]

Periphery
Royal Chambers
Katchan

The tired, bitter vitriol behind Castaneda's voice was one of the few emotional responses Cyrene hadn't heard to that question. Clinical analysis she knew well - the measured calculation of life against death against credits - and anger or sorrow were only slightly less common. Some people refused to answer - they were the ones she usually kept the closest eye on as they progressed. Because they were usually the ones who understood: the Empire needed to keep its men separate, apart from each other. That was - in part - why TIEs didn't have life support: that life support suit kept the TIE pilots separate from the rest of the crew: above the enlisted but below the officers. And an officer who had started to break down that barrier - to care about his men? That was where fear stopped existing. And without fear, the Empire had few weapons to dissuade rebellion.

Hence why Cyrene sought out those who attempted to shield their fighter pilots from death.

Vitriol was not a response Cyrene had met before, she thought, no hint of the grin in her mind showing on her face. But it was a welcome one.

"Of course." She nodded simply before curtsying and reaching down to her thigh, pulling out a simple, sable business card. Proffering it towards the Captain she grinned:

"My contact details, should you require them Captain. And if you change your mind about that dance, I'll be here until ten. I hope to see you again, Captain."

[Ormata]

Captain Jionni Castaneda
Katchan
Katchan System

"Of course." She nodded simply before curtsying and reaching down to her thigh, pulling out a simple, sable business card. Proffering it towards the Captain she grinned:

"My contact details, should you require them Captain. And if you change your mind about that dance, I'll be here until ten. I hope to see you again, Captain."

“Good night, ma’am,” he replied, taking the card and pocketing it as she left. Pausing for just a moment, a sly little smile came upon him in his mind, kept hidden. He’d caught a nice little view from that retrieval, yes, and the woman did have a beauty about her. If she knew enough about his command, well...perhaps she might get him what was required outside of military circles. Imperial Supply always did doddle-about, always did ask questions, and well...a reliable, alternate source might be good.

Besides. He did enjoy the view.

---

Lieutenant Leah Pearce
Katchan
Katchan System

"The same reason you are I guess, those above us 'requested' our presence."

It was like a wall, his mind. That set alarms off in Leah’s mind, concerns on who he was and what he did. You could train against measures, against tortures and different techniques of discussion and information milking. Training against Force-driven questioning, against probing with that technique, well, one required to be capable in the Force to do that and this man was quite, quite trained. A look of worry dashed across her face, unthinking, before Leah hid it away. Yet she was not fast enough, the man seeing the look before it fell-away and responding with confidence.

"Not that easy."

"Don't worry, I'm not with the Inquisitioners, or the Rebels."

"You're self trained, aren't you?"

Even if he wasn’t a Rebel, even if he wasn’t an Inquisitor...he shouldn’t know of who taught, he shouldn’t find-out about the childhood friends. Leah knew that much right off. Sith were Sith were Sith and any Force-user knew some little of them from practice, always should know enough that their reputation preceded them and that it was a poorer reputation. History classes ensured that the general public had some inkling of it, after all. Telling him wouldn’t go well.

“I...am. And you?”

---

Lieutenant Ara Tsurayaki
ISD-Isaac’s Wrath
Katchan System

“I hate you so, so much.”

The hangar bay of the warship, while normally not manned while she was under repair, was remarkably active this time around. Quite and calm all around the place, a singular corner was illuminated by a group of pilots and mechanics sitting-about in a semicircle. An old board, physical with chemical markers, was what they were all about, and the talk was of a quiet annoyance. They weren’t at all of the sort of professionalism that came with the Empire, no sergeants yelling about shirts untucked or jackets unbuttoned, no. Instead, they exuded the style of shipwrights and engineers, of men late at work there because to them and only them the job wasn’t finished.

Ara liked it that way.

“So what you’re telling me is those missiles on Bespin were...a waste. Great. Good,” was the voice of the Flight Officer, though he was really quite glad.

“I mean, saying ‘fragmentation grenades but on missiles’ sounds a bit, ah...well, stupid, but the fragmentation would be enough to shred any fighter’s particle shields even if they carried them. We’d have to mount more powerful shields onto our own fighters, but it’s my opinion that, considering their cost, they would be worth the price paid.” The technician at the board was explaining, his white shirt tucked into the trousers and blouse discarded on a chair.

“We’re installing those conc launchers on the ship, though,” mentioned a pilot, sitting on the ground, “What if we mounted these fragmentation missiles in those tubes? Would give a helluva surprise.”

“Let’s get on it, then.”

---

DP-20 Under Investigation
Cutlass-9 Under Investigation (1)
Concussion Missiles Under Installation (4)
Quad Laser Cannons Under Installation (4)
Double Turbolaser Cannons Under Installation (2)

---

Active

Destroyed------Damaged------Captured
3x Nebulon-B
18x Cutlass-9
1x DP-20
1x Cutlass-9

Isaac’s Wrath - Imperial-II Frigate - Damaged, Heavy, Drydock
Charyboym - Sentinel Gunship - Damaged, Light
Tririyam - Sentinel Gunship

Kilo - 10x TIE/IN - 2x Damaged, Under Repair
Viktor - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Echo - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Delta - 10x TIE/IN

Zulu - 10x TIE/sa, 5x TIE/IT

[Tayner]

Commander Biran Nalatracer
The Resonance, Task Force Lo
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran System

---

He watched out the window some more as he saw rebel units conduct training exercises in the distance, as the green bolts of plasma flew across the snowscape. His own marines were off somewhere else, conducting similar training. In fact, a majority of the infantry present were doing exercises like this all over the planet. It was almost a stunning sight, seeing military drills like this occur as if the Alliance was an actual professional military force.

Biran guessed they'd have to learn some tactics like these if they were to understand Imperial infantry doctrine.

"Attention on deck!" A voice sounded, and Biran turned heal and straightened his back as he saw what the harbinger saw, Mon Mothma, the Commander in Chief of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. The Commander in Chief, in person, along with much of her top brass in tow, Gial Ackbar, Crix Madine, and many other generals. The meeting was apparently about to begin.

---

Commander in Chief Mon Mothma
Alliance High Command
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran System

---

"As you were." Mon said, almost caught off guard. Normally she wasn't received that way, with a call for attention, but today was different. A planet lay in ashes, and the rebellion needed to react to the destruction caused by Imperial hands. She stood for a second, observing her audience. Field level commanders from all corners of the Rebellion, squadron leaders, captains, spy ring leaders, the works, some who couldn't arrive in person attended via hologram.

"I'm sure you know why you've all been summoned here for, days ago the planet Terminus, of the People's Galatic Federation, was completely destroyed by the Imperial Navy. Expected loss of live reaches into the billions, mostly non-combatants. This is cause for retaliation, while the PGF may not be our ally, this show of brazen destruction by the Empire cannot be taken lightly. While a direct military action has been deemed implausible, another course can be taken." She started, some officers showed slight dismay at the lack of militaristic response.

"Instead, a propaganda campaign to drive up recruits for the Rebellion and generate support for our cause will be set underway. This war will be won with the hearts and minds of the people of the galaxy, not by destroying Imperial warships. Secondly, the establishment of an Underground Railroad out of the planet Kashyyyk will take place, to liberate many Wookie slaves there. We will utilize a spy network to find sympathetic officers as well as find ways to secretly transport liberated slaves off the planet." She continued, the plan seeming to regain confidence of those in the briefing.

"Are there any questions, comments, or concerns?" She asked the audience.

---

Jedi Knight Edvar Voss
Jedi Order in Exile
Katchan, Katchan System

---

“I...am. And you?” She answered, and asked again.

"No, no. I had the luxury of inheriting the wisdom and knowledge of a master, a long time ago." He answered, losing the sly look and taking up a more serious posture. He could still sense some deceit, some concealment of thoughts. He didn't probe the matter, and acted content with the answer. "You've got some skill with the Force, and you have apt strength with it. I'll be curt, you have potential, that's why I'm here, I sense it now." He said, quietly as the two stepped away from the other people who were lingering in the back of the room so they could have a little more privacy while they discussed the sensitive topic.

"I can teach you, train you, show you the light side of the force, if you're willing." He offered, making eye contact.

[Whalestron]

Eris Dentai
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran system

After the Dawn had made its approach and the group of rebels onboard, Emerald Squad, Martius and his padawan, and Johanna, all made their landing. They made their way to the meeting, guided by a couple of guards. Eris fidgeted with her hands as they went. Normally such a meeting meant some kind of criminal sentence for her, but now things were different. She wasn't on the side of the Imperials anymore; she'd changed in the favor of the rebellion.

As the meeting began, everyone took their place in the crowd, Eris creeping nearer to Martius for a sense of familiarity. She focused intently on the speaker, having heard of Mon Mothma several times. She'd always pictured the woman as being strong, bold. But now that she saw the leader in person, she couldn't help but feel a sense of foolish pride. She looked old, and certainly sounded as if she wasn't abrasive just by the plan of action she had for the imperial attack. Still, though, she had an aura of dignity and grandness. Eris spoke up when Mothma asked if anyone had questions.

"Why wouldn't you attack now?" She asked, her voice almost a laugh. "If the empire sees you rolling over after this attack, what merits anything shy of another one? If anything, you should do more attacks against the Imperials!"

[Spindle]

Periphery
Royal Chambers
Katchan

A single eyebrow arched as Cyrene saw Parais emerge from the toilets, adjusting the buttons of his shirt once again. He caught the look and shrugged easily, ambling over to where Cyrene was half-leaning on a table piled high with canapes and other such finger-food. Reaching it, he made as if to say something, decided better, and directed himself towards the finger-food instead. Cyrene's eyes followed him for a moment before scanning the crowd once again. Lady Perre was stalking the dance floor once more, Nearii Tarkin in her arms and silent murder in her eyes. Cyrene's face broke into a smile for a moment, before she turned to Parais.

"Anything else you want to mash into your face?"

"Easy for you to say." Parais grinned, "You haven't gotten any in years."

"I didn't realise you'd become my life manager." Cyrene shot back, straight-faced, "And besides, none of the people I talk to are as young or sprightly as those you have to talk to."

"You talked to Lady Perre, didn't you?"

Cyrene grimaced.

"To pull us back on track." She said after a moment, "Anything new?"

"Well." Parais took a deep breath, held it, and glanced at Cyrene, "Do you want the interesting parts or the interesting parts?"

"If you list off who's been doing who, I will have you fired."

Parais' sigh was deep, his eyes wounded.

"One day, you'll start caring." He shook his head in mock disbelief, "But until then - Tavalta has a business deal going with Gavistrom, and I don't think it's tibanna. The Pantorran - that one there? - she's a member of the Twice Burdened, here to double-check some ship numbers or another. I think something to do with a lost patrol group? You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Cyrene shook her head silently.

"Not in any official capacity, anyway." She admitted after a moment, "She won't find anything here. I'll see what I can do to point her in the right direction?"

"I didn't realise we were helping the Imperials now."

"We're not. The Black Sun hit the patrol, and I want the two at each other's throats."

"Of course."

Cyrene's smile was thin.

"Of course."

A figure stepped off of the dance floor, and Cyrene straightened.

"Two hours until this ends, and I want to make sure our position is secure by the end. Can you hold up your end?"

"What do you think?" Parais grinned, eyes flicking to another servant, "It'll be my pleasure."

"Not just yours, I see." Cyrene nodded, "Go on, then."

Parais disappeared into the crowd as Cyrene pushed towards the figure now appraising her. Tall, thin-fingered, clean-limbed. Deeply-tanned skin, still soft, matched chocolate eyes which seemed almost liquid, and impossibly warm. Nobility was evident in their gait and posture - real nobility, not the Imperial version. The responsibility handed down from father to son, mother to daughter and so on. Cyrene knew how to spot it - the regret and remorse in the eyes, the slight tension beneath the skin.

"Your Majesty."

She curtseyed once more.

"Miss Aurelia."

"Thank you, once again, for agreeing to host this party again."

"It was my pleasure - as it ever is."

Cyrene's smile was wry. The Klatchian royalty almost always broke the bank on these galas. Their pleasure, indeed.

"A dance, Your Majesty?"

"Of course. I had a number of questions to ask you about next year's gala."

"What a coincidence." Cyrene grinned, "I had some questions of my own."

"You, or your-"

"Both."

There was silence for a moment, then the conversation was swallowed by the crowd.

---

Lostara Reeve
Alliance High Command
Orto Plutonia

The low, muted muttering of a dozen quiet conversations filled the room with an underlying buzz which irked Lostara. He was a man of silence, solitude and freedom - that was why he had joined the Web in the first place. To get away from the Alliance's...strictures. Orders. He knew what needed doing, what he needed to do to do what needed doing and he cared for little else. Those qualities had the White Lady ready to boot him out of the Web half of the time, and ready to promote him the other half of the time. He wasn't sure if he cared about that.

Of course, that probably meant he was the last person who should be here. Now.

But he had been the closest asset the Web had possessed, so he was here now. That was the way it went - so often, they simply moved with rough goals and vague objectives, then they were being forced into specific objectives. Just like that. It was supposed to create flexibility or some such, but Lostara was certain it did nothing but raise the mortality rates. After all, not everyone was the White Lady...they couldn't all bring swords to gunfights without having to worry about leaving full of holes. She could - somehow. That was probably why she was still in charge: no-one was really sure how she was still alive as it was. They weren't going to try and kill her before they figured out ow no-one else had suceeded yet.

Then Mon Mothma was in the room, and the conversations stilled as she gazed over the room. She was handsome, even in her older age, and she held something in her eyes and stance which reminded him of the White Lady - but her presence was...more. So much more. The pain and loss in her eyes was almost overwhelming and even before she began to speak he understood how she'd held the Alliance together for so long, under such adverse conditions. Because she was a force of personality - no, not a force. She was a current. Something you could find yourself getting lost in.

And then she talked through the plan, and his brain worked over it. They were pushing the propaganda front for all they could manage - not surprisingly, of course - and the location wasn't one which surprised Lostara either. Kassyk had long since been a lodestone for Imperial activities, and the source of vast quantities of their manpower. The First Death Star had been built primarily on the backs of Wookie slaves - they knew that for sure, though too many of the other mysteries of the battlestation's construction eluded them. An issue, but one they would correct with time.

And then Mon Mothma was asking for questions. And there was one. The obvious one.

"Because we are an insurgency." Lostara rumbled, by way of answer, "What the Empire thinks or otherwise matters little - it is what the people think that matters. And so we must wait, and pick at our foe like a parasite - a glorious fight, is ours not? - for this fight is not the war in truth, lady. This is merely the preface to the true war which is to come, and so our resources must be husbanded and mothered and guarded until that war comes and we may fight our enemies on even terms, as you so desire."

"Our aim in this phase of our engagement with the Empire is not to cost them warships, but to close the gap between our two forces. Yes, this is why we engage separated Star Destroyers, but there are safer ways of doing so. Of those Wookies we may rescue, how many will join our service, as soldiers, sympathisers, spies? From those who witnessed the destruction of the PGF, how many deserteres have we accepted? When our propaganda spreads, how much greater will that number become? That is why the Empire shall not do so again: every planet they destroy for accepting our cause simply creates five more. That is the truth of our war."

[Revlona]

Admiral Marcus Humphrey

"The loss of Terminus is saddening in the greatest, we must strike back for this, I feel a coordinated counterattack to retake the Quarren sectors is needed, both to show the galaxy that the alliance is strong and to secure the space around Mon Cal again." Admiral Humphrey said

22 large ships
651 Fighters/Bombers
1 MC-80 the Freedom (120 fighters/bombers)
1 Providence Class Liberator (240 fighters/bombers)
2 MC-60s (48 Fighters/Bombers)
6 Nebulon Bs (72 Fighters/Bombers)
3 Quasar Carriers (144 Fighters/Bombers)
9 CR90s (27 Fighters/Bombers)

[Viraliz]

”How dull” Arashas thought to himself as he sat in his cabin polishing his E-11 blaster. For weeks now they hadn't had any action. All time had been spent on repairing and cleaning the ship after they took it. Never again would he underestimate the time it takes to clean a corvette from all the dead bodies and carbon scorches, but it needed to be done. Hell after the first day of cleaning you could almost smell the blood everywhere.

Still he felt he needed some action. Both to stop his increasing boredom and to rally his crew. They were growing more and more discontent with everyday they spent repairing. He had promised them all a life of riches, glory and adventure. And now they were all stuck cleaning a ship.

Suddenly a ringing could be heard on his communicator, the unmistaken sound that his attention was needed.
”What is it?” He answered clearly annoyed. ”Sir, I have some news for you. First of all we are done with all the tasks relating to the ship. However we are still slightly undermanned and will not run att full combat capabilities. This also brings me to our second report. We have detected a faint transmission from a ship and they are trying to contact the rebels.” Said the voice in the communicator.

Arashas recognized the voice on the other side as Caran Zan. A human that once had been a slave and stuck working in a shipyard for years untill he was rescued by the Outcasts since then he had managed to become the lead engineer on the ship and a close friend.

”Interesting. Is there any way we can track their transmission” Arashas asked intrigued by a potential prize. The response was quicker than anticipated as Caran said ”Even better, they have provided their own coordinates.”

”No time to spare the Caran. Set course to the coordinates. Lets see if we can rob these fools blind.”

Arashas rose from his chair and went to the bridge as he felt his ship rumble as the hyperdrive activated. Having read the entire message left by these strangers he made a quick announcement upon arrival.
”These is Jorryn Karell of the Firebrand. We are allies of the rebellion and have heard your broadcast. We are here to offer any aid we can. We request your coordinates so that we can find you. Firebrand out.” As Arashas stopped the transmission a sharp roar could be heard on the bridge as the crew laughed at this blatant hoax. Even Arashas himself could not do more than smile at this plan. It was stupid enough that it could work.

[Brusia]

Martius Shan
Orto Plutonia
Alliance High Command

A few hours into their trip through hyperspace, Cyrene had contacted Martius and confirmed his worst fears: the Empire had destroyed yet another world, putting an end to countless billions of lives. Despite his clear disappointment at the news, he thanked the White Lady for letting him know what had happened. He also knew this meant he now owed the swordswoman a favor, which from what he'd seen of her so far, he figured would undoubtedly prove to be interesting if nothing else.

A short while later the Dawn reached its destination and dropped to sub-light speeds near the planet of Orto Plutonia, and after entering into orbit above the icy world, Martius and his new Padawan accompanied the Dawn's senior staff down to the hidden base on the planet's surface. As the group made their way to the Conference Room Martius could sense Eris' anxiety, and tried to reassure her, stating: "Don't worry, as I understand many of the Rebels were once Imperials before defecting, so you won't be the only person here to have once been an enemy of the Alliance. I have no doubt they will be far more happy that someone of your skill is joining their cause than they will be upset at any past transgressions."

The meeting began shortly after they arrived, and Martius saw a familiar face enter the room that he had not thought he'd ever see again. Of the countless senators that represented the hundreds of systems that had comprised the Old Republic, Mon Mothma had been one of the most prominent; being selected to serve on the Chancellor's Loyalist Committee, and being one of the few members of that legislative body to routinely call for a peaceful resolution to the Clone Wars. At the time, Martius very much disagreed with her, believing a military victory over the CIS to be the only thing that would preserve the Republic and protect against any such uprisings in the future, but in retrospect it was clear to him that the anger his younger self had felt over the death of his Master, no matter how much he had tried to suppress it, had blinded him to the truth of what she was saying. In many ways, she had been more true to the peacekeeping purpose of the Jedi than the Order itself.

This time around he had every intention of heeding the advice the former senator proffered, and he listened closely and intently to her brief address. The plan was straightforward enough and he didn't intend to make any comments until his Padawan spoke up asking why they weren't attacking; it seemed her nervousness about her situation was still not enough to stifle her impetuousness. Before he could say anything to her however, another one of the Rebel officers spoke up to inform her about the nature of their insurgency. Martius nodded in agreement with the officer, but it seemed there were others with differing opinions as a different officer suggested they launch a strike to retake the Quarren sectors, to which Martius replied:

"Any such major offensive would cost us dearly in manpower and resources we can't afford to lose right now, and even if we were successful in retaking the system, we would have no chance of successfully defending it against an Imperial counter-attack. The destruction of Alderaan and now of Terminus has left the people of the Galaxy terrified of the Empire, living day to day never knowing if their planet may find itself next on the list to be destroyed. This Alliance represents the solitary beacon of hope amidst that sea of terror, and rather than spreading more fear through an attack in which civilian deaths will likely be unavoidable, we must focus on spreading that message of hope to the countless billions out there who are willing to fight to free themselves from the life of constant fear the Empire has subjected them to."

"As our compatriot stated, we must work towards closing the gap between our and the Empire's forces, and we have been presented with a recruitment opportunity which, if we're at all successful, we will never have again. Therefore, it is my opinion that the Senator's plan is the best course of action for us to take, and I believe we should set about enacting it immediately, as time is of the essence and every moment wasted debating it is a potential recruit lost."

[New Roman Empire]

Siln & Corana

Thump the sound seemed to echo off the wall as she hit the floor. She was covered in sweat her body was practically shiny. Siln had stopped holding back after the Naboo incident, he learned she was going to need to be able to protect herself. She stood back up and charged Siln with a closed fist. Once she was close enough she swung for his gut only to have him move out of the way as she felt her legs get swept right out from under her. "Again," he stated as she got back up and this time attempted to sweep out his legs which was almost successful except for when he jumped out of the way once again. "Again," he repeated as he saw her come in for a punch and then she dropped sweeping out his legs and knocking him to the floor. She lost her balance and then fell on top of him.

She smiled, "well looks like i finally accomplished one thing today at training." She started to go into kiss him as the intercom sounded.

"Uhh we have a reply from the rebel alliance you had better come to the bridge Master Siln," the voice advised as Corana rolled her eyes before rolling off. The two dried themselves off before they headed towards the lift that would take them to the bridge. Once they arrived, they were shown the message.

"Something doesn't feel right but, I always have that feeling. Do as they ask send the locations but, I want weapons and shields up. I would rather be safe than sorry," he concluded as he walked to the front of the bridge. This was much quicker than I thought, even if it a rose than at least we will be prepared for it. "Get scanners up as well, I want to know whats coming and hopefully it will be actual rebels," he stated as he looked out into the void of space. A few moments later the message was sent with the exact coordinates, as the weapons and shields were brought online.

Paladin Squad
Operation Brimstone
Mantooine

A loud boom echoed across the planet that made each one of the commandos look up into the sky. "Well looks like the fleet is here and they already started to open fire on the hostile," stated Rokri as they crept closer and closer to the weapons shipment. "Over watch, what do you see?" He asked as he gave the signal to stop to the rest of the squad.

"Commander, they got guards along the permeter and they looked arm. They are no doubt expecting something bad to happen and the arrival of the fleet just sent them into a frenzy. I think you can at least sneak closer to them, but once you leave cover then they are going to see you," she reported as she scanned the makeshift camp.

"Roger, okay we cant let the rebellion or really anyone get their hands on these weapons. Once we get to the edge of the grass open fire," Rokri ordered as the group slowly made their way to the edge of the grass. Several of the guards were talking to each other but, he was too far away to make out any words that they were saying. "Over watch take the first shot, we will engage after that," he ordered.

A few seconds later a shot range out and one of the guards dropped to the ground. The guards of the shipment all took cover as the rest of paladin squad rushed out and opened fire. Several guards fell in the initial shock of the commando squad. "Why are Imperial Commandos already on the planet!?" Shouted one of the guards as he seemed to regain his composure and returned fire.

"Start to corner them! Push up and take a new position!" Barked Rokri over the squad coms as Mror'lir'iagu and Vepp both moved at the same time. Now it was his turn to move, as he stood up he took a bolt to the shoulder and dropped back down to cover. "You have got to be kidding me, over watch take out those bastards behind that cover!" He argued as several more shots range out and the sound of blaster fire stopped. Rokri stood up and looked around to see the last of the guards were dead.

Kelelle rushed down from the hill top to their location, the smell of burnt flesh hung in the air and that was something they had become accostomed to over the years. The squad then went about setting thermal detonators on the shipment crates and once they were satisfied rushed back to the hill top and watched the explosion go off.

"Send a message to the fleet and tell them we destroyed a weapons shipment and we are continuing with our mission," Rokri ordered as he started walking off in the direction they were going before they ran into the weaponshipment group.

[Viraliz]

Arashas laughed and showed the bridge crew the reply. Caran's eyebrow was visibly twitching as if his mind snapped by the trust these people.

”Bring us in to their coordinates and prepare our weapons, scan their ships for any weaknesses and prepare a boarding party. Remember we are dealing with a jedi so no heroics, they are highly dangerous and will require a insane amount of firepower to bring down. Flash grenades or explosives should only be used if they detonate on contact. If they are on timers don't use them.” Arashas commanded and in a second the crew started moving and surged as a ant colony.

As the crew prepared to board and fight Arashas prepared another message to the mysterious ship.

”We are currently heading towards your coordinates and would welcome a delegation from your ship to join us for discussion regarding who you are. Firebrand out”

[Tayner]

Commander in Chief Mon Mothma
Alliance High Command
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran System

---

"Why wouldn't you attack now? If the empire sees you rolling over after this attack, what merits anything shy of another one? If anything, you should do more attacks against the Imperials!" A young woman said. Mon barley managed to open her mouth before other Rebel Officers made her points for her. She didn't even bother to respond, all she had to say was said. Another officer, Admiral Humphrey, proposed another plan.

"The loss of Terminus is saddening in the greatest, we must strike back for this, I feel a coordinated counterattack to retake the Quarren sectors is needed, both to show the galaxy that the alliance is strong and to secure the space around Mon Cal again."

"No. As I said, direct military action is implausible. I have another assignment for you." She said. "If that will be all-"

"Ma'am," a nearby communications tech said, interrupting. "Priority one message." She said, before patching through the hologram to the holotable that stood in the center of the room.

"All Rebel forces that can hear this, I am Jedi Knight Siln Tarkin of the Amber, I have stayed out of the Rebellion for far too long. I am looking to assist the cause and fight the Empire and the crew that I have are willing to do so as well. With in this message is my location, may the force be with you."

A Jedi. She thought. Not many of those were still around, and even less were willing to leave hiding to join the fight. They were valuable leaders, and assets the the cause. She knew who to send on the mission, the Jedi in presence, along with the 'Admiral' who accompanied him, Ent'el. Academy graduate, came to the Rebel Fleet with a ship and a crew willing to fight. Somewhat skeptical, but keeping a Jedi knight near her would keep her under close watch.

"Admiral Ent'el, follow up on this. Martius Shan, I hereby give you the field commission of Colonel, and your Padawan as a Second Lieutenant. Go." She said. "Dismissed." She said, before retuing to her private quarters in the base. She pulled up a handheld hologram and contacted Admiral Humphrey.

"Admiral, I'm re-assigning a few capital ships to you. You're not to re-take the Quarren worlds, but recent intelligence shows a diminished Imperial presence at Pammant. You are to destroy the enemy capital ships, and evacuate the Quarren military and polotical leadership on the planet. Once you make your assault, our intelligence says you'll have about 24 hours before a Imperial reinforcements can arrive. Attack swiftly, admiral, we can't liberate the system, but we still need to help the Quarren the best we can. You have your orders." She said, before ending the message.

[New Roman Empire]

Siln & Corana
The Amber

Siln was informed of the message and walked over to the scanners, "Well at least we can see them on scanners now. I still cant shake this gut feeling that I have, prepare for the worst are the weapons and shields online yet?" He inquired as the crewmen at the station nodded and Siln walked back to the front of the bridge. "Something doesn't feel right but, what is it that doesn't feel right? Just have a weapons lock when they drop out of hyper space," he concluded.

"So do you think its really the alliance or are we going to have a surprise?" Asked Corana as she sat on some railing that lined the upper deck of the bridge. She then looked around the room and saw the crew tirelessly at work ensure they were ready for anything. She had never seen such a ship until she had been rescued and even then most of these people had some experience with other ships at one point or another. So it made it a lot easier or so it seemed but, only time will tell.

He turned and looked her in the eye, "I honestly dont know, this Radier II-Class Corvette is a fairly new ship that I may or may not have stolen from a shipyard. Reguardless, this ship has several weapons such as an Ion cannon, concussion missles and dual heavy laser cannons I am sure we can at least hold our own until we can jump to hyperspace should we need to," he smiled.

[G-Tech Corporation]

High Orbit, Minntooine
Grand Admiral Jarnassus Kuat

---

The Grand Admiral usually took meals with his men, save breakfast, but tonight he chose to dine alone in his quarters. A slice of the silverware, dispatching a fillet of Rivalian beef from the estates of House Curcer, a slight savoring of the succulent flavor before it followed the rest of his repaste into the engine of Kuat's body. Raised a military man, and simultaneously a noble of one of the most prominent houses in the galaxy, Jarn had a curious mixture of spartan military discipline and epicurean fascination which warred within his mind on all too many occasions. Here, though, the former triumphed over the latter.

His eyes roamed to glance at the water-world below, her sparse landmasses all but unmarked by the Quarren presence, their aquatic nature having abstained from touching the dryland save where some of their terrestrial shipyards were visible as scars of gray and brown in the blue and green tableau that was Minntooine. They were a curious people, to the mind of the Grand Admiral- but then, of course, how could the alien help but presenting as, well, alien? His discussions with their leaders, captured or otherwise, had only reinforced the Kuati's view of the strange squid-men. In their own way perhaps, honorable. Only at the point of a blaster rifle had one of their ships fled the system with the cowardly Rebels. But they were so fiercely xenophobic that it made even an agent of the New Order blush, their ranting and raving as the ringleaders were loaded into the airlocks a sight to behold.

Still, raving as the last gasp of a dying fanatic, Jarn supposed, wasn't an untoward fate. Completely in character, really, for the type of government officials that would launch a doomed uprising like this. At least now they wouldn't bother their countrymen with such ideas. It wasn't that the Grand Admiral was particularly fond of executions as the solution for problems; sometimes it was simply necessary for a few to die for the good of the many. This time he had managed to circumvent the Emperor's not-orders to devastate the ocean world, merely because the Imperial orbital victory had been so convincing as to render it politically unwise to bombard the planet. But if they rebelled again, propelled by a new crop of firebrands? The Emperor, bloodthirsty tyrant that he was, could not be denied a second time. The butcher's bill would be filled, one way or another.

Another slice of the Grand Admiral's knife, this time into the deeper flank of the roast, where pink flesh still steaming from the chef's whims presented itself. It yielded at a stroke, much as had the Quarren fleet, and Jarn chewed contemplatively.

A knock on the door, and Kuat made a gesture toward the sensor. An underofficer entered, one of the Army liaisons that Jarn couldn't quite place due to their recent addition to the Fealty's massive complement. A brief salute, which Jarn returned in kind, and the young man spoke, his rigid motions and efficient actions part of the machine the Grand Admiral had forged in Central Command for a generation.

"Begging your pardon, Admiral, but General Anders wished me to inform you of a development on the planet. Communications reports a transmission from a Special Operations asset in play on the world below- looks like SO was already at work blowing up the rebels from within before we ever got ships in orbit. They report the destruction of a Quarren weapons convoy, and that they are currently engaged in an operation."

Kuat's eyes flickered to the window on the planet below for a moment, before smiling and nodding to the underofficer.

"Very good. SO knows its business best. Transmit receipt of the communique, and try to get a rough bearing from the commandos to ensure they don't get caught up in any bombardments or asset-neutralization strikes. SO wouldn't appreciate us plastering their boys in high-ex." The Grand Admiral paused, then continued as a new thought occurred. "Also, check if they could use any support. Operations has their pride, but they were working under the assumption of hostile territory- we control Minntooine's skies now, so if they could use backup, make sure they know they can have it."

The Grand Admiral nodded lightly to himself. No point in wasting assets, even if they didn't belong to Central Command. Lack of communication and care between agencies had botched more than one campaign before, and a good deed for Special Operations was never a deed wasted. They worked hard, the commandos, harder than any man on these ships, and deserved not to be accidentally strafed for their pains. Jarn thought the matter addressed, and the underofficer half turned to go, before hesitating.

"Is there more General Anders is concerned about, lieutenant?"

It was a tone that said that there had better not be more General Anders was concerned about, but, to his credit, the underofficer bore up under it and gave voice to his commander's worries.

"Admiral, General Anders is also somewhat troubled about the light fleet defending Pammant at present. Commander Venkmen's soldiers are on-planet, and would be cut off if the rebels make a sally from Mon Cala in force. Normally he would not be concerned with five Star Destroyers there to secure the place, but the Rebel fleet the subversive elements have amassed over Mon Cala is formidable, and proximate."

The Grand Admiral's voice was more sedate now- not a petty concern then, a legitimate one.

"I see. Reassure General Anders that I will speak to him directly anon about our countermeasures against any such sally. Indeed, I would welcome it; every ship the rebels send to its death is one more than we will not have to contend with when the Emperor gives the order to bring the people of Dac to heel. Pammant was, and is now again, a part of the blockade around that restive world, and he may rest easy when I say that the Empire shall not allow any part of that blockade to present a weakness our enemies may exploit. Taskforce Stonewall arrived in-system shortly after we departed. The timetable and provisions Admiral Needa presented me I found most encouraging."

The underofficer's face was almost bursting with curiosity about the vaguely phrased statement, but he saluted swiftly, obviously realizing that such information was above his paygrade. As the door hissed closed behind his departing back, Jarnassus turned his attentions again to his meal, mind turning over the General's concerns as he did so. Yes, let them come, if they had the stomach for it. Pammant was the weakpoint in the blockade, the chink in the armor, and it was all too probably Admiral Needa would have work to do before long. But the Midnight Fleet would be ready.

A slice of his knife, and the red blood of the roast spilled out on the Kuati commander's plate. A piece of flesh, raised to lips barely pursed in a smile.

Would be? No. They were ready.

[Revlona]

Pammant Sector

Utilizing dead space, a lone Y-wing long probe variation jumps into the edge of the Pammant sector unoticed.

Turning on the sensor and setting its range to the max, he began to pick up objects.

He immediately noticed two large groupings of ships, one was obviously the capital ships of the empire, located in the gravity well of Pammant, he tried to count the numbers of capitals, but couldn't get past two as they where grouped too close for the sensor to pick up individuals.

The other group was smaller and He could tell there where no capitals with them, this group was on the hyperlane. He noticed a string of small objects that the sensor could barely pick up leading from pammant actual to the small fleet.

"Freedom this is Violet Actual, information has been successfully recorded, sending it to you now."

The information would be looked at and given to X.R.A fleet as they would be jumping in first.

22 large ships
651 Fighters/Bombers
1 MC-80 the Freedom (120 fighters/bombers)
1 Providence Class Liberator (240 fighters/bombers)
2 MC-60s (48 Fighters/Bombers)
6 Nebulon Bs (72 Fighters/Bombers)
3 Quasar Carriers (144 Fighters/Bombers)
9 CR90s (27 Fighters/Bombers)

[Ormata]

Captain Jionni Castaneda
Katchan
Katchan System

The Captain watched her go off, off to dance with what looked to be a Katachan noble. The man was of the style most nobles were, suave and completely unaware of anything he might be doing wrong because very, very few dared to inform him of such things. As such, he had the confidence of perfection, or at least was a good enough actor for such a thing to work. Jionni could afford that respect to them; nobles were always at least mediocre actors, especially those from backwater worlds or lower families. He had to also hand it to the lady; she was a fine dancer. It nearly made him want to go and request.

He just might, Jionni decided, if it was a slow dance.

However, that entire thought process was run into a halt as a guest arrived. He wore easily the most casual of all the formal clothes, a patterned jacket and shirt with black pants and ankle boots shined a black, and easily had the most innoble face of all present. The man looked to have gone through the grinder several times before beating the crap out of said grinder, with a half-dozen scars, both old and young, scattered about his face, along with what looked to be the beginning of a burn scar along his right breast, starting on the next. Despite this, the man moved with a grace that Jionni suspected few held, along with a lightness borne from never wearing such flimsy clothing.

The man approached the gala, skirting about the dance while his eyes scanned the onlookers briefly, looking for a specific set of characteristics. He rapidly approached, and the Captain did nothing to halt this. Jionni had, to state plainly, expected him.

“You called?” His voice had a distinctive flavor, one not normally placed.

“Glad to see you dressed-up, Addi. Wanted to talk-through a little proposal,” Jionni replied, before briefly considering. “This isn’t the place for business. Let’s find a quieter one.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

A short walk later and they found themselves an alcove, away from the dancing and other prying eyes, and it did not take a genius to note that two others followed them, similarly dressed in semi-formal attire. They were a bodyguard, for obvious reasons, and both well-aware of the tentative nature of such agreements made in secret. Both sat, Jionni easing himself down slowly with an uncomfortable look about his face before resting down.

“Could get that fixed, you know. I have a surgical friend back home, one who does wonders,” Addi said with what could be mistaken as genuine concern.

“Field surgeons aren’t the same as doctors, Captain. Now, as to my proposal, well...look. Your clan is a remarkable one, let’s be fair, a strong one on Mandalore. You have resisted other efforts to integrate you, despite your size, and are furthermore not affiliated with those Death Watch persons. As such, well, I would like to hire you for a period of time.”

“Hire us? For what. Spit it out,” came the acid response. Hiring a few was one thing. Hiring a clan? That was another.

“Training purposes. My Marines, while Marines, are first and foremost graduates of the Imperial Stormtrooper Academy, one that is rather lacking in free thought and individual ability. You, and your clan, would train those men and women for the period of six months to bring them up to par as soldiers.”

“Tall order. What the hell are you offering to me, cyar'ika?” He said the last word with sarcasm. Saints above, did Jionni forget how these people were.

“A payment of 1,000 Diamond Boron missiles.”

The Mandalorian raised one eyebrow at this, commenting, “I like that number. We’ll be here within the week.”

“Good.”

Jionni hated the amount; just before leaving the vessel he’d heard that a Rebel raid had snatched-away 1,500 missiles, half of the amount, and while that was a massive bitch he also could get a refund from the damn company. Losing 1,500 missiles didn’t sound like much, but the total amount there was 30 million credits. You could do a lot with that, especially considering he hadn’t precisely paid for the shipment. It was an interesting story to be sure.

He probably could claim they were all stolen.

Yet, the meeting ended, the two parting and Jionni going back to the main floor, watching and waiting for the woman to finish her dance with nobility.

---

Lieutenant Leah Pearce
Katchan
Katchan System

"No, no. I had the luxury of inheriting the wisdom and knowledge of a master, a long time ago. You've got some skill with the Force, and you have apt strength with it. I'll be curt, you have potential, that's why I'm here, I sense it now."

"I can teach you, train you, show you the light side of the force, if you're willing." He offered, making eye contact.

She met his eyes. Perhaps he saw something.

“And if I don’t? What will happen then?”

The question was one with trepidation, a quiet little thing as though it was afraid to walk out into the realm of being heard. It was meek, hollowed-out of emotion and passion like the temple gong. Leah wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, but it was a question she needed to ask, one that came from her mouth without the discussion of if it were proper to ask, if it were right to ask, because of the necessity. If she asked the same to an Inquisitor, well, they would say death. The XO was truly curious as to what this one would say.

---

DP-20 Under Investigation
Cutlass-9 Under Investigation (1)
Concussion Missiles Under Installation (4)
Quad Laser Cannons Under Installation (4)
Double Turbolaser Cannons Under Installation (2)

---

Active

Destroyed------Damaged------Captured
3x Nebulon-B
18x Cutlass-9
1x DP-20
1x Cutlass-9

Isaac’s Wrath - Imperial-II Frigate - Damaged, Heavy, Drydock
Charyboym - Sentinel Gunship - Damaged, Light
Tririyam - Sentinel Gunship

Kilo - 10x TIE/IN - 2x Damaged, Under Repair
Viktor - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Echo - 10x TIE/IN - 1x Damaged, Under Repair
Delta - 10x TIE/IN

Zulu - 10x TIE/sa, 5x TIE/IT

[Tayner]

Jedi Knight Edvar Voss
Jedi Order in Exile
Katchan, Katchan System

---

“And if I don’t? What will happen then?” She inquired, being skeptical. Voss' face obviously went grim.

"Bah. You already know the answer, you feel it through the force, you already perceive your destiny. Don't ask questions, answer them for yourself." He said. He wouldn't take her to train if she was unwilling, no matter how much potential was squandered. She could either come with him, explore the light side, learn what it means to wield the force, or she could stay, an imperial officer hiding away from inquisitioners and Sith Lords. The potential to move mountains, cast light on darkness, and became one with the force was all there, she just needed to have the motivation.

But he hoped she would come with him, he hoped he could teach her the light.

---

Commander Biran Nalatracer
The Resonance, Task Force Lo
Orto Plutonia, Pantoran System

---

The meeting was over. A worthless venture for Brian, not getting any input or receiving direct orders. It wasn't until he was back in his ship and his troops recalled from training exercises until he got direction.

"Priority one transmission sir, encoded. It's your eyes only." The communications officer reported.

"Source?" Brian asked. The officer simply nodded to the base in front of them. "Patch it through to my ready room." He ordered, and exited the bridge to receive the call. He tapped a button on his hologram projector, and Mon Mothma appeared, again for the second time today, only holographic in nature now. "Ma'am." He said, throwing up a salute, a show of respect.

"Commander Nalatracer, I'm calling upon your Task Force for a special mission of importance. Intelligence from the data you recovered suggests that the Empire has a valuable asset which we can obtain. A Noghri, mentally programmed by the Empire as an assassin." She said, dialing something on her data pad, displaying the creature in her place, before returning her own picture to the display. His blood ran cold at the thought of capturing a well trained assassin. "While likely hostile to rebels, encoded in his file was a pass phrase that when uttered, will make him passive and easy to capture. I'm sending it to you now," she said, and again dialed on her data pad, Biran's own lighting up.

Hail be to thee. It read.

"I'm sending you coordinates, he will be on a small Lambda class shuttle en route to a research station. You're to intercept him just before he docks, and secure him. Once you have him, return to the base here, where he'll be interned. Even if we can't capture him, we'll be restraining one of the Empire's most fiercest assassins. Move swiftly, and safely. Out."

He didn't even get to say more than a "Yes ma'am" before her transmission was terminated. This was definitely a high speed mission, and he would have a fun time briefing his senior staff. However, he had his orders, and he returned to the bridge. "OOD, get us into orbit. Comms, patch me through to the rest of the Task Force."

"Aye." The OOD responded before starting takeoff procedures.

"You're on." The communications officer said.

"All ships, this is Godfather. I'm sending you coordinates, begin forming our formation, and prepare to enter hyperspace. We're leaving in 5 minutes. Out." He said, before motioning to the comms officer to end transmission. He waited until the line was cut before he spoke again. "How is the corvette we just captured?" He asked.

"Still in repairs, they say two more hours." An officer reported.

"She'll be ready for us once we return. OOD, take us up."

"Aye, helm, begin takeoff sequence."

"Aye, taking us up."

[Whalestron]

Johanna Ent'el
Orto Plutonia

Johanna saluted Mon Mothma as she finished giving her orders. "Yes ma'am, we're on it." She said before leading the way out of the room. She let out a deep sigh once they'd left the room. Her hands were shaking, so she clenched them shut to put an end to the trembling. It wasn't often she became anxious from a meeting, but this one was different. It wasn't with some commander, it was a meeting with some of the top brass military leaders of the alliance. The admiral had kept quiet throughout the meeting, only listening.

She was aware others wouldn't trust her so easy, and standing there had only alerted that feeling. She was a graduate from the imperial naval academy; a traitor to them, but a friend to the alliance. It wasn't going to be easy to earn trust, that much was obvious. Johanna would have to work hard to get to such a level of trust.

"Finnick," she said to the Finn, who'd been trailing behind with two of his compatriots. He nodded, grunting in response, "yes, ma'am?"

She spoke as they stepped into the transport. "I want you to scout ahead of us. Take Copper squadron with you, in case you run into any trouble. We'll be close behind." He nodded as they took off, "Understood."


Eris looked to Martius, a smirk on her face. "You hear that? Lieutenant." She said. "So, uh... when will I be changing my lightsaber?" She asked, "I don't think red really works anymore."