Star Wars: Rise of the Empire (IC)

[Cheye]

The Golden Gundark, Diamond-class Cruiser - Deep Space

Sianni was already looking at the bridge’s tactical display as X-340’s response came through. Two corvettes, two freighters and twelve fighters. Weapons ready, coming in fast. Things were about to get interesting...

"We do not accommodate visitors," the Tactical Droid responded from the bridge. "You correctly assume that many others have heard our call, but I am afraid the Super Tactical Droid is not interested in negotiating with the lackeys of her former acquaintances.

“Lackey!” Sianni gasped. “How dare you!? I am Captain Sianni! The Quick Corsair! The Bane of Oba Diah, Shadowland Explorer, Sacker of Klato-”

“You’re presently on mute, sir.” The comms officer interjected.

Sianni shot him a glare that would have made most other species uncomfortable. The Gossam didn’t care though. They were annoying like that.

I suggest if you do return, for whatever reason, that you return with your 'client' that knows the Captain." A pause. "But, if you don't mind staying. Proving yourself to the Captain. We have some more visitors. If you could destroy them, you would be more than welcome to join us this moment."

And there it was. Things had gotten interesting...

Sianni stroked his goatee thoughtfully, returning an eye to the tactical display. He’d certainly faced worse odds. Eyeing the data they had on those corvettes, Sianni knew for a fact that he had taken on larger and more heavily armed ships during his time as a pirate. If it were just the two of them, this would be easy. But it was the freighters, no doubt highly modified, that worried him. Those ships were agile and in the hands of the right pilots would be able to run circles around a cruiser like The Golden Gundark, even with his own extensive modifications.

“Bring us about and ready the main batteries.” Sianni barked, several Gossams jumped into action, the seriousness with which they treated everything now being applied to their assigned tasks, this was a military crew after all, even if they had gone rogue mid-war. “Prepare our gunships for deployment as well, but let's not launch them for the moment… If I’m right, and I’m often right, we still have a few cards to play here before everyone starts shooting.”

Sianni ran over the situation in his head, still eyeing the tactical screen for some hidden insight he might have missed. As the distinctive cruiser turned about, he was able to get a good look at Gehena’s flagship and the Separatist Fleet that sat in defensive formation beyond it. They more than had the numbers to deal with these interlopers themselves...

The way he saw it, they were either genuinely interested in giving him a chance to prove himself, which was doubtful given the rudeness and scepticism of the Tactical Droid on the comm, or they were stalling… but why? Then Sianni remembered what the bridge officer had told him when they’d arrived, about the other ship that had been tractor-beamed inside the command ship and he reasoned that whoever had been aboard it had, like himself, most probably dropped in on Gehena unexpectedly. Perhaps the droids were busy dealing with that headache.

“Patch me through to whoever’s in Gehena’s hangar bay.” Sianni paused, and then added quickly; “Use the latest Hutt encryption codes, something this remnant won’t have been able to acquire in the year they’ve spent out here in the middle of nowhere, I want this message secure.”

“On it.” The comms officer typed away furiously at his console as the cruiser rounded the lucrehulk and the viewport in front of Sianni now faced the oncoming attackers. The tactical interface above updated with a small pop-up featuring two ships, a small smuggler ship that matched the profile of the one they had detected upon arrival and a Separatist Shuttle. "It seems the shuttle just touched down inside sir, assuming you want to contact the other one?"

"Naturally." Sianni scoffed.

“You’re live.” The Gossam nodded after only a few short seconds spent updating the encryption.

“This is Captain Sianni…” He resisted the urge to use his full list of titles and accolades, now that time had become slightly more precious. “...of Sadaar Sabacc & Security’s Casino Fleet.”

He adopted a slightly more cautious tone as he continued; “I came here to negotiate with Captain Gehena for ships in exchange for intelligence but since arriving I’ve been called a ‘lackey’ and been asked to launch an attack against an incoming hostile fleet. I figure that at this point, the cordial thing to do is to reach out and see how you're getting on down there in the belly of the beast yourself?” Sianni paused. “I don’t know who you are, and frankly I don’t care, but my organisation requires ships and credits to survive, so if those are things you can help us with, just let me know and you’ll have my full support should you require my assistance extracting you from the bowels of that command ship, or... if you're doing just fine in there... with getting past the incoming hostiles. I don't much have a preference for which. Just don’t wait too long to get back to me though, as I say those hostiles are incoming.”

He gestured to the comms officer who cut the transmission, and took a deep breath. Those 'incoming hostiles' were now closing the distance towards the fleet fast.

“Now contact them please!” Sianni declared, pointing out the viewscreen at the oncoming corvettes.

The comms officer shot him a slightly disbelieving look...

“What?! It’s the same move we pulled at Oba Diah! We make the same offer to everyone and see who takes it.” Sianni shrugged. “Blue won’t mind, she just wants to get some ships out of this, she wasn’t specific on who should provide them.”

As the comms officer frantically adjusted his console’s settings and prepared to patch him through to the new arrivals, another Gossam data officer called out; “Sir, the incoming flagship is the Twilight’s Gleam. It served as a privateer vessel during the war.”

“Ah, fellow connoisseurs!” Sianni clapped his hands. “Lets see if they’re interested in talking business.”

“You’re live with them now, sir.” The comms officer said, looking up from his console to give Sianni the signal.

“Greetings friends! This is Captain Sianni of Sadaar Sabacc & Security’s Casino Fleet. My crew tell me that you may have served as privateers during the war just as I once did, you might have even heard of me in fact? The Quick Corsair, Bane of Oba Diah, Sacker of Klatooine, Saviour of Castell, all that...” He paused, remembering time was of the essence. “Anyway, these droids have been giving me some trouble, I mean they even called me a ‘lackey’! Me? All because my employer wants to make a deal with them to trade intelligence for old warships. See, our organisation is in dire need of ships and credits, so if either of those are things you privateers might have a lead on, then consider The Golden Gundark to be available for hire. Looking at the odds on my screens here, I think you’re going to need all the help you can get... Just don’t take too long to decide!”

Sianni gestured to cut the transmission and then exhaled. Nat wouldn't like this at all... But Nat didn't know.

Reclining back in his command chair and clasping his hands, he looked over to the Gossams who were all hard at work at their stations, carrying out his orders from earlier with trademark efficiency, he could see on a console above one’s head that his array of gunships were ready to launch…

Now he just needed to wait and see who he’d be launching them at...

[Ralnis]

The Golden Gundark, Diamond-class Cruiser - Deep Space
“This is Captain Sianni…” He resisted the urge to use his full list of titles and accolades, now that time had become slightly more precious. “...of Sadaar Sabacc & Security’s Casino Fleet.”

The shuttle latched onto the message and reached to the sensors of Scav on the other side of the Outer Rim. Already the droids inside were following the orders of their better and started to work independently while the tactical droid was still trying to deal with the others in secret.

"Hello, we have gotten your message and wish to hire you in getting rid of those fools and as security detail in case of talks are going below the required needs that my boss wishes to have. While we do not have any ships to spare, we can certainly offer credits for your time and any repairs that need to be."

[Quebec-Libre]

Liujas Marno

The Jedi nodded, taking a sip of his glass once more before setting it down and aside. He also slowly took his M-57 pistol to set it on the counter as a guarantee of his peaceful intentions. His gaze was aimed foward, almost as if he was looking for an answer to life's greatest question: Why? The unexpected end of the Clone Wars brought onto the galaxy a fate worst than conflict. That was tyranny. At the very least, both regimes that fought the battles were technically democracies, whatever that meant anymore. Instead, a tyrannical Empire was birthed out from the Republic and being a guardian of peace became a crime.

Truly a world turned upside down.

"The galaxy changed, and we're being forced to do the same, to...'follow along'."

He shook his head, laughing just slightly. It wasn't the giggle of a jokester but rather the saddened chuckle of someone who had lost all hope.

"Where were you?"

There was no need to further elaborate. Order 66 was the clear subject. The singular thought of the dark deeds brought mild terror to his eyes that was easily remarkable once he tilted his head in her direction. His fear was also starkly displayed as he picked back the pint, taking a sip while holding the glass in a shaking hand and menaced to collapse the fragile container or tip it over at any moment.

[The V O I D]

GEHENA | ABOARD THE LUCREHULK BATTLESHIP
the current

Orders given and assurance of proper fleet defense gained, the droid General went to his shuttle, which departed from the Arm, using the fleet's formation to hide its departure and to move silently and as swiftly as possible to Gehena's vessel, sending the clearance codes to land that had been given by TD X-340.

At that moment, the shuttle of Super Tactical Droid Kraken emerged on the platform. Gehena was pre-advised of his visit, and surely he would only be just as ruthless, hopefully. "What is the best way of dealing with secretive pirates?" she exclaimed to Kraken as he emerged.

---

Aboard Gehena's Lucrehulk Battleship
Outer Rim Space
Post-Imperial Founding

“Given our current situation as being surrounded by potential hostiles? I would remove the potential third additional threat, posthaste. As for what we shall do with the other forces in this area,” Kraken paused, and then decided after a runtime, “I believe it would be best if we should turn the unknowns against one another, should hostilities ensue. To do this, I will execute a specialized Battle Plan that will allow my fleet to corral the fighting into a position that they are as likely to hit one another as they are to hit the fleet's defensive position. Some of my forces, though, I shall place under your command for more offensive operations - this will split their focus between offense and defense, both against our combined forces and one another as no true unity is possible if they keep eliminating one another's vessels.”

The Droid General turned to look around the bridge, considering for a moment on what to say next.

“If the plan is successful, then this will force one of the potential hostiles to retreat - likely the singular ship,” Kraken turned back to Gehena, “and without anything to split our focus, we can turn the full might of our combined forces on the potentially hostile fleet that has arrived in system. Once all potential enemy combatants are forced to retreat or eliminated, we should make a strategic retreat of our own to a different system. This system has obviously been compromised if so many have access to Separatist channels.”

General Kraken allowed a few runtimes to pass.

“Captain, if you have any ideas that may allow the chances of success for this plan to increase, I would like to hear them,” the General subtly inquired.

[Revlona]

Savannah

His fear was displayed, that was for sure. Not only could she the stark terror on his face and in his eyes when she glanced over to look at him, she could also sense his fear like an overwhelming and unpleasant scent. It wasn't really her place to give him advice or to tell him what to do, but his abstract fear was sure to attract attention and he needed to get a handle on it. "Control yourself, you allow your fear and anger to show themselves to easily. You are one of the Order, you know that fear leads to the dark side, so begin acting like you aren't some hopeless padawan learner," She said, nearly hissing the last few words.

She allowed her words to sink in for a few seconds, slightly regretting her harshness before continuing the tangent the other Jedi had started, "I was off world, returning to the front lines from the Capital on a civilian craft when everything went to hell. The civilians were going to sell me out so I escaped using a shuttle they had. Mad my way to the outer rim and won myself a ship gambling, now I run odd jobs for the Hutts all while looking over my shoulder to make sure an inquisitor isn't following me," She said, grimacing slightly as she spoke. She had control over her feeling but the words still brought up fresh pain.

"What about you?" She asked

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Low Coruscant Orbit - 18 BBy - 501st Star Legion

The flames of the venator’s entry into the Coruscanti atmosphere fiercely licked the superstructure of the destroyer. The window of the starboard bridge began to glow with increasing temperatures as the ship cut through the thick cloud layer of the planet. Atmosphere re-entry was one of the more difficult manoeuvres to pull off, and the bridge crew was furiously working on keeping the ship level. Straying mere meters off course would mean the venator could smash into one of the mile-high skyscrapers of the planet.

Vader, silently peering through the flaming glass and observing the manoeuvre, formed the eye of this storm. He stood still, his hands folded behind his back and his dark cloak limply hanging from his shoulders. Inside his helmet, he could hear the distorted voices from the bridge, filtered through his external microphones and flowing into his ear via speakers. But far closer, far clearer, he could hear voices coming from inside his head, calling from memories long repressed.

“Open all hatches, extend all flaps and drag fins”

“Fire retro thrusters, keep her level”

“Grab that, keep us level”

“We’re gaining speed, captain”

“Now we’re really picking up speed”

“Not to worry, we’re still flying half a ship”

Hearing that voice filled Vader with a fire of his own, a rage that began to consume him from the inside. He peered into the flames streaming past the command window, and remembered, if only for a moment.

“You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them!”

“We’re coming in hot, extend all drag fins”

“Bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness!”

“Full fire on the retro-thrusters, prepare landing lifts”

“You were my brother, Anakin”

“Another happy landing”

Vader was pulled away by the slightest hint of movement to his left. He inclined his head slightly, now noticing captain Dodonna standing in full attention.

“I said, another happy landing, my Lord” he repeated. Vader looked outside, and the vision of the lava planet Mustafar had gone. He was looking upon the partially clouded skies of Coruscant, the sun piercing here and there to reflect against a million windows, giving the appearance of a glittering jewel. The voices, the sounds, the heat, the memories, flushed down Vader’s mind as if through a sink. The many red-black banners of the Empire, still hanging even after Empire Day, reminded him of his place. The dark voice of Palpatine blotted out all else like a thick ash cloud from a volcano.

“Rise… Lord Vader”

“Captain, bring my shuttle, and signal Post 436 to prepare for my arrival” Vader commanded. Dodonna inclined in a slight bow and relayed the order, Vader having already turned around to move to the hangar.

“And inform the emperor I have returned”

In the language of the Empire, the concept ‘Jedi Temple’ had ceased to exist. The Jedi purge, while literal at first, had grown beyond Operation Knightfall and Order 66. References to Jedi heroics and heroes were scrubbed from the records, instead claimed by more traditional army and navy commanders. Defeats, however, were reattributed to the Jedi. The Jedi Temple was now Post 436: a nameless monolith, reminding everyone that the Empire could do more than just defeat you; they could make you disappear entirely, and retroactively.

After the LAAT/i settled itself on the landing platform, Vader was immediately accosted by the garrison commander. A clone, for Palpatine did not trust ordinary mortals with the defence of the Post.

“Wel… welcome, Lord Vader. I… I just wanted to say… your arrival… I wouldn’t think it necessary… Because…”

“Because you have everything under control. I have seen your transmissions, lieutenant” Vader said, continuing his brisk pace towards the Temple, his cape now flowing in the Coruscanti wind.

“Ah, yes, I wondered… whether those had come through, but…” the clone lieutenant tried again, but Vader cut him off again.

“Have you caught the perpetrator? Have you learned their identity? Do you know what was taken?” Vader asked. The clone struggled to answer.

“N… No, but…”

“Then things are not under control, lieutenant” Vader replied, suddenly standing still and facing the officer. The lieutenant felt his throat tighten slightly, as if wearing a tightly-buttoned shirt.

“If you lie to me again, there will be consequences” Vader said before continuing down the platform, and into the Temple.

There were few places more powerful in the Force than Darth Vader, and most of those were spread thinly across the galaxy. Ilum, the lost planet of Ack-To, Korriban… The Temple, however, was the most central place, and still of damned importance. Even while the last remnants of Jedi were being gassed out of the sewers, two Jedi had infiltrated the Temple, to unknown ends, laying a slew of dead clones in their wake. Palpatine had realized then that the Temple could serve as a trap, and had it heavily guarded. Vader had realized then that he had not seen the last of the Temple, which he hoped would have been torn down. As he entered and probed the place with the Force, he felt the Temple probing him back. Recognition, anger, despair…

The lieutenant led Vader down to the former Archives. The place smelled of burning, his visor told him, which was obvious also by the still smoldering ruins of the foyer.

“We found remnants of Herald… I mean CT-2525 there… There…” the lieutenant pointed out.

“CT-6600, Striker” the lieutenant said, pointing at the body of a trooper. “He had his neck snapped, we believe in the explosion”

“Why?” Vader asked, kneeling next to the trooper. His dead eyes were open, and he stared into the empty void of Vader’s eyes with an eternally surprised expression. The lieutenant seemed to hesitate, but he had quickly gathered that Vader preferred quick, straight answers to long-winded explanations.

“Well, the suspect was sighted, my Lord. A Togrutan female. She did not appear to have the strength to snap a neck”

“This female… Killed eighty-five of your soldiers?” Vader said incredulously. They walked down the west transept, which was already filled with troopers, medical droids and ISB goons. The droids were to no avail; the intruder had ensured they remained silent. Most of them had been killed by strikes or stabs from a plasma-bladed weapon, and there were few in the galaxy proficient enough to use such a weapon to kill almost a hundred troopers. To Vader, it was clear what they were dealing with, which immediately made the matter personal.

Operation Knightfall was still ongoing.

[Abbeyverne]

Jeremiah Dawntreader
Twilight's Gleam - Deep Space

"State your intentions. Who you are."

Jeremiah opened up the comm channel to the separatist command ship, "Heeyyy... this is Captain... uhh... Jonas, of the umm... Valiant. We were on a cargo run and got intercepted by Imps... uh... we'll be on our way now..." He shut off the comlink. To Päto: "Why did we jump the gun on this one? Ach. I can't even deny it. The message was just too tantalizing!"

"Sir, they are targeting us, but have not fired."

"Alert the rest of the fleet: Get coordinates to the next system over. There we regroup."

"We won't be able to attack again, we have lost the element of surprise."

"Likely. We'll see."

Jeremiah waited for a response while his ships got ready to run. Then, on the comms:

“Greetings friends! This is Captain Sianni of Sadaar Sabacc & Security’s Casino Fleet. My crew tell me that you may have served as privateers during the war just as I once did, you might have even heard of me in fact? The Quick Corsair, Bane of Oba Diah, Sacker of Klatooine, Saviour of Castell, all that...” He paused, remembering time was of the essence. “Anyway, these droids have been giving me some trouble, I mean they even called me a ‘lackey’! Me? All because my employer wants to make a deal with them to trade intelligence for old warships. See, our organisation is in dire need of ships and credits, so if either of those are things you privateers might have a lead on, then consider The Golden Gundark to be available for hire. Looking at the odds on my screens here, I think you’re going to need all the help you can get... Just don’t take too long to decide!”

"Well, they seem like they maybe, possibly, won't turn on us... patch me through!" Jeremiah did need all the help he could get.

"Yes, sir." Dawntreader detected a tinge of sarcasm in Päto's voice.

"Hello, this is Commander Darklighter of Twilight Consortium. You are correct in saying I was a privateer during the war, and I am willing to deal. We offer two ARC-130 starfighters and a large quantity of coaxium hyperfuel in exchange for your 'services.'"

[Cheye]

The Golden Gundark, Diamond-class Cruiser - Deep Space

"Hello, we have gotten your message and wish to hire you in getting rid of those fools and as a security detail in case of talks fall below the required needs that my boss wishes to have. While we do not have any ships to spare, we can certainly offer credits for your time and any repairs that need to be made."

"Hello, this is Commander Darklighter of Twilight Consortium. You are correct in saying I was a privateer during the war, and I am willing to deal. We offer two ARC-130 starfighters and a large quantity of coaxium hyperfuel in exchange for your 'services.'"

“Well there it is… Credits, which are very very nice but aren’t exactly what Blue sent us here for…” Sianni sighed, as he mused aloud to himself; “Or a couple of rinky-dink fighters and some hyperfuel. This Commander Darklighter fellow clearly isn’t aware that Sadaar Sabacc & Security operate out of a major refueling station, but saying that, coaxium is the good stuff and we could always use more…”

The Captain quickly weighed up his options.

Cutting a deal with Gehena still represented their best bet for finding the disused seperatist warships Nat had sent him after, but if he took her Tactical Droid at its word then to even get in a room with her he had to ‘prove himself’ by destroying or driving away the good Commander Darklighter and his fleet.

Or at least… he had to be seen to be destroying or driving them away, and that wasn’t quite the same thing…

“Make for heading 35,099 by 00,111 and pick up the pace!” Sianni suddenly ordered with a smile, as an idea that was at once both incredibly reckless but quite possibly brilliant flashed into his mind.

“You want to retreat behind the Lucrehulk, sir?” One of the Gossam navigators shot back with a frown, but still diligently input the navigational commands.

“No, I want to use the size of the Lucrehulk to conceal our cargo bay as we deploy the gunships, then I want the gunships to chart a direct course towards the Consortium fleet.” As Sianni spoke the ship lurched downwards, picking up speed and moving to arc around behind the massive command ship.

“We move to attack?”

“No, no, no. I never said attack. See, when our gunships appear it will look to Darklighter as though they were deployed from the Lucrehulk. If we then fire in the direction of said gunships, Darklighter will think that we are covering his forces from incoming Separatist fighters. Meanwhile Gehena and our new friends in the hangar bay will just see that we have deployed our gunships and are shooting broadly in the direction of Darklighter.”

Sianni noticed a couple of the Gossams scratch their heads and exchange sceptical glances with one another. To be fair, it was an audacious play, even by his standards.

“Captain, sensors indicate that the Twilight Consortium Fleet is adjusting course, they look as if they are preparing to leave the system.”

“Good… This might actually work then!” Sianni grinned, looking out the viewport as the massive rear-side of the Lucrehulk went by. “Deploy the gunships!”

The Gossams relayed the order. A red light flashed green on the tactical display and a few seconds later, the roar of six reprogrammed HMP Droid Gunships echoed through the ship as they careened out of the opened cargo bay doors and raced down and out from behind the Lucrehulk, making straight for the distant Consortium fleet that was quickly altering its course in the distance.

“Now lets get after them!” Sianni hissed. “And get each of them back on the comms one by one, I need to sell this to make it work…”

The Golden Gundark’s thrusters adjusted, the surprisingly nimble cruiser cutting down and out from under the Lucrehulk in a spin as Sianni moved to pursue his own gunships.

“Patching you through to the Lucrehulk first Captain.”

“TD X-340 - This is Captain Sianni. Please be advised that The Golden Gundark has deployed gunships and we are now moving to engage and pursue hostiles. I hope this gesture will allow me to prove myself to Captain Gehena and aid my case for gaining an audience at her convenience.”

He nodded and that call was quickly cut by the comms officer.

“Give me Darklighter next, I don’t want his fleet to slip away before I let him know we have a deal… Oh, and open fire in that general direction.” He ordered, pointing forward out of the viewport after the gunships that were now broadly making their way in a straight flight-path across no-man's space towards the Consortium fleet.

The gunnery officers all scrambled into action, taking care to line their shots up to ensure they didn’t actually hit anything. At the same time the comms officer punched at his console furiously, before nodding back to Sianni.

“Commander Darklighter, this is Captain Sianni. I have considered your generous offer and decided to accept. The Twilight Consortium will receive my full assistance.” Sianni declared with as much enthusiasm as he could muster; “As you may have seen, you have a few droid gunships making for you now. I’ll step in and keep them off your backs and deal with anything else the clankers decide to throw at you as you make your move to escape… Then how about we meet up somewhere out of system and talk payment? I have a feeling that our respective organisations could do a lot of business together…”

As he spoke, The Golden Gundark’s primary cannon batteries opened fire, laser-fire only narrowly skimming past the gunships before dissipating in the void between the reprogrammed HMPs and the Consortium fleet.

His comms officer cut the call.

“That ought to look convincing.” He nodded his approval as he watched the laser bursts flying beyond the viewport.

“The smuggler ship inside Gehena’s hangar bay is next, sir.” The comms officer declared, punching at his console.

“Perfect, perfect perfect!” Sianni grinned, starting to enjoy his own ruse; “Hello my new friends! This is Captain Sianni, and I am very happy to accept your offer of employment. Please be advised that The Golden Gundark has deployed gunships and is moving to engage the hostile fleet. In fact, scanners indicate that they are already moving to retreat. It looks as though I’ll have them driven off in a jiffy and then if you require further security you just let me know, eh? My comms officer will forward our organisation’s account details over shortly for payment via holonet transfer.”

Sianni exhaled as the comms officer cut the call, reclining back in his command chair he shook his head to himself and smiled.

This was either going to end with him making three new friends and winning the Casino Fleet some ships, fuel and credits, or it was all about to go horribly wrong. Either way, he was at least enjoying it...

[Jedi Council]

---

Shaak Ti
Jedi Temple | Coruscant | 18 BBY

---

A thin stream of dull, faded light outlined the Central Concourse as Shaak Ti slowed to a walk. After fleeing the Security Centre, she had not encountered any more troopers, a small mercy given the events of the previous night. No doubt, the Clones stationed here were far more interested in the explosion near the archives, and the trail of bodies that she had left in their vicinity. The Jedi Master slowed as she approached the large pit at the centre of the vast hall, the very same one that had allowed her access into the Temple. Even with the weak light of dawn creeping into the room, the pit below was still shrouded in darkness. From her vantage point above, there was little evidence it even had a bottom. Pulling out the thin flashlight at her belt, Ti pointed it down into the darkness below, settling on what appeared to be the same pipe she had used earlier in the night.

With practiced grace, she jumped, soaring into the void below, before feeling her feet just snag the edge of the lowest pipe that adjoined the terminus. Landing in a crouch, Ti swiftly raised her head, ready for any troopers who may have followed her from the outside in. Such a precaution was necessary; the way ahead was clear, aside from a slightly foul and stale stench. Stretching to reach her full height, the Jedi Master continued on, a silently as possible. The altercation with the Clone Troopers stationed at the Temple had been more violent and far more obvious than she had hoped. Such a disturbance at one of the Empire's most controlled sites would no doubt invite far more attention than was need to catch a singular suspect. The Empire never did anything in half measures.

As she walked for what seemed like hours, a faint pulse in the Force caught her mind. At first, she ignored it. But then it came again, and again. A ripple, a disturbance, coming nearer and nearer. Ti stooped, and unclipped her saber hilt from her belt, cloak swaying from the movement.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Suddenly, it came. Not a pulse, but a veritable wave of Force energy, a massive, dark presence drowning out everything else around it, pulling in the energy of its surroundings like a singularity warping the fabric of space.

Ti felt faint, and placed a red hand against the curving duct wall to steady herself.

Vader. He is here. Somewhere close.

The Emperor's enforcer had emerged in the days following the proclamation of the Empire, a ubiquitous presence at Palpatine's side, the newest acolyte of Darth Sidious. Behind the machine, behind the expressionless mask, the identity of this Darth Vader was a mystery, but, if the reports of his power were nearly accurate, he must have been a powerful force sensitive. The HoloNet had been filled with details of the new Sith Apprentice's exploits, hunting down Jedi and crushing resistance to Imperial rule. The Massacre on Kessel had made headline news, as the deaths of nine Jedi at the hands of one man no doubt captured the minds of the Galaxy's more insipid viewers. That event had been hard for Ti to take; she had known Bultar Swan, and Tsui Choi, well. They were both excellent Jedi, skilled fighters, and peaceful philosophers.

The Jedi Master broke herself from her musings, and resumed her slow, measured walk back to her speeder. Who ever this Vader was, Ti was prepared for him. She had spent many hours trying to riddle out his identity, pouring through her memories for any hint or sign that could lead her to the truth. No associates of Palpatine fit the description, as far as she, or in fact the Jedi High Council, had been aware of. And the only other plausible lead was Anakin Skywalker.

Traitor.

Ti tried to push the name down in her mind the moment it surfaced, the memories from the Sack of the Jedi Temple still fresh. After her exhaustive duel with the young Jedi in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Ti had been knocked unconcious by a massive force wave which had thrown her into one of the far walls and caused the arboretum itself to suffer immense structural damage. She had awoken in the rubble some hours latter, battered, bruised, and defeated.

Anakin Skywalker is dead.

The news had come in the weeks after the Purge. Official Imperial records stated he died as part of the Jedi Coup, killed in the Temple as he defended the Youngling's from slaughter. The lie caught in Ti's throat. No doubt Palpatine had used the poor fool for his own ends, manipulated him, tortured him, then murdered him when he had served his purpose. This new apprentice, this Vader, was far more ruthless, and far more cunning than Anakin Skywalker could ever have been.

A scratched, flicking voice echoed through the hall, forcing the Togrutan Jedi to stop in her tracks. She was nearing the Acsension Tunnel and the access point to the sewer system where she had left her speeder. Light was now pouring around the bend ahead of her, and where there should have been the rush of a thousand speeders, only a voice came, scratchy, and faint.

A communicator. Clones!

"Lieutenant" the voice came through, a high pitched, arrogant squeal of a sound, no doubt coming from one of the Empire's new human officers. "What have you found?"

The voice that replied was that of Jango Fett.
"A speeder, Captain, registry 567 8727. Records say it is owned by a certain Poggo Sanlish, a property manager in the lower levels. It appears someone also cut through this sewage grate, with what must have been a high power laser torch."

Ti crept forward, straining her ears to hear more. She peered around the corner slightly, and couldn't help blinking in shock at the sight before her. A squad of Stormtroopers were clustered around the entrance to the sewer duct, alongside a series of probe droids that whizzed around the scene taking images and various scans. Behind them, in what normally would have been a bustling ascension tunnel, just one ship hovered, the sleek slate grey hull of an Arquitens-class light cruiser. The ship barely fit in the corridor, its engines no doubt singing the durasteel wall on the far side of the tunnel.

"Very good Lieutenant this must be where the intruder accessed Post 436. Prepare the speeder for transport to the impound yard, and then proceed into the sewer system with caution, I want to inform Lord Vader that we have caught this woman within the hour."

"Right away, Sir."

Ti ducked behind the bend once more, gritting her teeth. This was far more than she had bargained for. The sound of armored boots on rusted durasteel began to echo through the duct as on by one the Troopers entered the darkness, helmet lamps flooding the area ahead of them with light.

"Eh, Junker," one Trooper called out, "Ever thought you would end up wading through Jedi shit too?"

"Piss off," the one called Junker called back. "Get stuck in Rancor scat one time. Have you ever been to Felucia, Reaver? Its everywhere!"

They were nearing the bend, as other members of the squad began to rib one another. Clearly, they did not know who they were dealing with. Without second though, Shaak Ti reached out to the Force, and felt it flow through her veins.

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

She ignited her blade and charged.

The Troopers did not even have time to react, so fast did the Jedi strike. A blur of motion was their only warning and a streak of sapphire energy, before it ripped through their white armour, and left them collapsed in a heap on the ground. Ti cut left, then right, losing track of the numbers as she tore down the last few metres of the sewage duct, all determination and righteous fire. By the time she reached the outside, only the Lieutenant was left, quaking on the ledge below the access point, a seemingly endless fall just inches behind him. The Jedi looked down, blade raised, and took a step forward. The man took one back. His screams were drowned out by the roar of the cuiser's engines. No one knew just how far the fall was.

Squinting, Ti could see far out into the tunnel, the bridge crew of the cruiser was scurrying about, and its forward turrets were powering up. If it meant killing a Jedi, the Imperial military did not care about collateral damage. Anyone that lived near the Tunnel walls would be vaporized if that ship opened fire.

I won't let that happen.

Fuelled by the Force, the Jedi Master raced forward and leapt into the abyss, landing just on the bow of the cruiser. From her vantage point she could just make out the shocked expression of the Bridge crew, as she sped forward, the force pushing her faster than any mortal could ever dream of. Leaping over the various armour plates, and different levels of the vessel, Ti's sprint was puncurated be elaborate spins and leaps, as she sliced into the hull, hoping to strike key components. As she approached the two primary turrets that sat ahead of the command super structure, the Jedi jumped as high into the air as she could muster, and flipped, twisting in the air so that her blue blade pierced the top of the left turret, leaving a deep, sizzling gash of melted metal in its wake. Landing in a crouch, Ti braced herself as the gun emplacement exploded, its magazine ignited by her weapon. Faintly, she could hear the klaxons blaring as the ship began to ascend, desperate to reach the surface, and the no doubt numerous Imperial reinforcements.

Running to the centre of the ship, Ti once more delved into her Force reserves, and jumped. Diving forward like a javelin as she reached the apex of her arc, the Togrutan smashed through the transparisteel view port of the main bridge, and landed on her feet, saber at the ready. The four human officers inside stood motionless, quaking in their boots for a moment, before one of the braver ones raised his blaster. With a deft sweep, Ti relieved him of his hand, which promptly dropped to the floor with a fleshy thud. The remaining officers span on their heels, cradling their wounded compatriot as they fled.

The Jedi Master's attention turned to the bridge controls, surveying the situation. The damage caused by the turret's explosion was far more severe than the Jedi had intended, attested to by the frenetic blinking and flashing of warnings that lit up the command display, as well as the emergency evactuation klaxons that nearly deafened her sensitive montrals. A significant power overload was registering in the core, and fires were tearing through the access ports on the vessels ventral flank.

Oh not good.

Ti began frantically pressing buttons, hoping to get enough lift to ensure that the vessel cleared the acesnsion tube, but the engines wouldn't give; running at only thirty percent, they did not have the power to ascend any higher. A new alarm flared to the Jedi's left.

[CORE OVERLOAD IMMINENT]

Oh not good at all.

There was not time. Ignited her sabre, Shaak flashed it across the engine control console, a blazing cross rendering the display worthless, as well as the engines themselves. Ti had to brace herself, as suddenly the ship pitched forward, losing altitude fast as its nose began to drop towards the seemingly bottomless tunnel below.

I need to get off this ship.

Turning to the rear of the bridge, the command doors slid open, only to reveal a massive wall of black smoke and flickering red flame licking through the corridor beyond. the ship was nearly vertical now, racing down into the underworld at what was surely its terminal velocity. There was only one thing left the Jedi Master could do. Holding onto the command chair, legs dangling beneath her, Ti let go. For a moment it did not feel like falling, but as she flew out of the command deck and she pushed herself off the view screens thick support beams, the Togrutan's stomach leaped into her chest, and her eyes went wide. Flattening out to create as much drag as possible, the Master watched as the flaming wreck of the cruiser raced past her, engulfing her and the tunnel behind it in a thick cloud of smoke, sparks and ash. With great effort, she reached a red hand down to her belt, and pulled free her ascension cable, and fired it to her left blindly, praying it found a footing on the far wall of the tunnel.

The mechanical whizzing of the cable was followed by a light click as it wrapped itself around a thick pipe that protruded out into the empty space of the tunnel. With a sudden jerk, Ti was pulled sideways, her momentum fighting against the grip of the cable. After a moment of stomach churning swaying, Ti wiped the soot from her eyes, and looked up. The pipe the cable had found a hold on was on the underside of a wide landing platform that extended from the tunnel wall, now no doubt covered in fiery debris and ash. Pressing the small button on her belt, the cable pulled her up, and she clambered onto the platform itself. The ship that had been parked here was afire, crushed by a huge durasteel plate that had peeled off the doomed cruiser.

Collapsing onto her knees, Ti sighed, her breath a ragged, uneven mess. Her dark utility cloak was a singed mess, shredded in places and still smouldering in others. She had not been this exhausted since fighting off Grievous' Magnaguards during the battle of Coruscant. An enormous boom echoed through the tunnel below the Jedi, and the weakened landing platform trembled from the shortwave. No doubt the cruiser had found the bottom of the shaft.

Ti stood, wiping soot off her tight black garmets, and began to slowly stumble towards the door adjacent the landing pad.

Lets not do that again

[Beutarch]

Ryder Charon | Kalgan, Aurora Sector

Rain poured down from the sky, turning the streets of the small town slick. The Section Chief was joined by a fire-team of his troopers and a half dozen policemen from the Civil Service, the group waiting in a vacant building opposite the town's sole bar. Despite the fact that it was well past midnight, miners continued to stumble in and out of the establishment. A Rodian pushed past an oncoming shift of workmen, stopping to lean against the building's wall. He fumbled with his belt, shoving aside a holstered sidearm to reach into a pouch containing Spice.

Inside the opposite building, faces drenched in the blue light of one of the officer's terminals, Charon turned to the trooper nearest to him.

"The green one, facing the street. Bag him first. Go in now."

"Copy."

The trooper moved to the other side of the room, preparing his men to execute the operation. There were five audible clicks, as the troopers switched their blasters to "stun." The unit's lead signaled the rest of the tactical unit to move, nodding at the officers, before bursting through the warehouse's front door. The troopers were suited in plastoid-composite plates, their stark white figures interrupted only by their black ISB armbands and visors. Cornered by the soldiers, the intoxicated Rodian dropped his pouch of dust in surprise, scrambling for his sidearm. The troopers scarcely missed a beat, one firing a blue ring into the humanoid, while another kicked open the bar's front door. The Rodian fell into the street with a splash, followed by a wet thump as a third trooper's boot made hard contact with the Rodian's chest. The team moved inwards, spreading out into an impromptu firing line as they passed through the doorway.

"IMPERIAL SECURITY! PLACE YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS!"

The troopers paused for several seconds, before opening fire on the bewildered patrons of the watering hole. In the midst of the chaos, a window across the room shattered. A second team of troopers poured through, assisting in disabling the bar's customers. Together, the men did a sweep of the room, firing an extra round into any witnesses who seemed to resist the effects of the first stun. Across the street, the Auroran cop manning the terminal began to voice his concern about the heavy-handedness of the operation, but was quickly silenced by Charon. He pointed to the terminal, asking the man to cycle through the cameras on the terminal again. Grumbling, the man obliged, first showing the street. Two policemen moved in the wake of the troopers, disarming and then fixing restraints on the Rodian. The screen flashed, now displaying the interior of the bar. The troopers had finished sweeping, and were now moving the unconscious bodies to one side of the room. The staff were placed in a different pile than the customers. Switching again, time time showing the helmet-cam of the first team's leader. The last of the bodies were being moved, and the troopers began to stack up on either side of the doors leading deeper into the building.

The lead inhaled deeply, readying himself for the next plunge. Exhaling, he reached into his utility belt for a flash grenade. He primed it, waiting precisely five seconds before tossing it through the door. There was a scream, followed by an exclamation in Sullustian. The troopers rapidly advanced, finding a number of suspects cowering behind kitchen appliances and tables as they waited for their sight to return. The lead's eyes darted between targets, before settling on the Sullustian and the DL-18 in its hand.

"They're armed! Blast 'em!"

The troopers fell on the blinded targets, firing stunning rings into each. The lead rushed to the Sullustian, kicking the hand holding the pistol, and then hammering the butt of his service rifle into its head. Another trooper fired a ring at one of the chefs, only to have it blocked as the man suddenly regained his sight and pulled a serving cart in between himself and the glowing projectile. The chef followed up by kicking the cart into the trooper, knocking him off balance. With one hand, he seized a knife from a ceiling-rack, using his other hand to pull the trooper's head closer to the blade. His first stab was aimed for the trooper's neck, but ended up denting the hard shell of his helmet. His second strike found its mark, cutting into trooper's shoulder. The vulnerable cloth in-between the pauldron and chest-plates was easily cleaved through, leaving a bloody gash.

"Shit, he got me!"

"Greaves is bleeding-"

"Stun the bastard!"

The suspect capitalized on the chaos, tossing the knife at the nearest trooper and then making a mad dash into the staff hall, which was the only room the soldiers had not swept through. The lead reflexively put his arm in front of his face, blocking the attack and sending the knife clattering onto the floor.

"Ten-Ten, pull Greaves back into the bar. Everyone else on me."

One of the troopers broke off from the team, helping his comrade limp out of the room. The rest of the team stood ready to breach the final room, on the lead's orders. He primed another flash grenade. 1 second. 2 seconds. 3 seconds. 4. He threw it. Light engulfed the room, followed by the rhythmic cracking of a heavy blaster. Bolts flew through the open door, fired blindly in an attempt to stop the troopers from advancing. The kitchen's oven, unfortunately positioned to take the wild shots, was riddled with holes. The pock-marked exterior buckled and glowed red, heated to temperatures it was not designed for by the sustained fire.The lead recoiled, reassessing the situation. Well. If the bastard wanted to use live rounds, we should use live rounds. He clicked his blaster back into the "normal" firing mode, shooting a glance at the troopers next to him. Even behind his helmet, they each knew what he meant. They had been ordered to capture their quarry. Operating with the ISB, however, gave them some measure of operational freedom that they wouldn't have had as rank and file troopers. And this particular subject had stabbed one of their men. Had there not been the constant din of the firing blaster, one would have heard seven clicks in echo of the first.

The troopers simply waited until the chef's gun overheated, and, one it did, fired enough rounds to turn the man into a macabre recreation of the oven in the next room.

---

Charon surveyed the bar in the aftermath of the raid. He passed by a dozen or so workmen, in varying states of consciousness, now being interrogated by local cops. In the next room, he examined the damage caused by the firefight. The inhabitants of this room had already been restrained and dragged off to a detention center. In the next room, however, rested the prize of this operation. Underneath the corpse of the chef, lied a trapdoor, which itself revealed a cache of military grade torpedoes, mines and other assorted naval explosives. It was everything the Civil Service's case file had detailed.

A police lieutenant approached Charon, hesitantly asking a question.

"Ah, well, that is a lot of firepower. I suppose we ought to wrap that up, send it back where it belongs, eh?"

Charon had requested information on all known caches of smuggled weaponry of such a grade, disturbing the closed ecosystem of the Civil Service's police force. Reluctantly, a report detailing a bar on Kalgan often used as a stopover by smugglers made its way into the Section Chief's hands. The police's brass were about as surprised as a certain Rodian when Charon informed them that he intended to perform a raid on the location at the earliest possible time.

"No, I will be confiscating it for the time being. It is relevant to an on-going investigation."

The lieutenant did not know whether or not the man in front of him was, strictly speaking, permitted to confiscate such evidence at will. He did know, however, that it was not his place to ask. He responded simply in the affirmative, returning to assist his colleagues in the other room. Now alone, Charon reached down to the cache. He removed a small box from the inner pocket of his jacket, extracting several discs from it. The devices were simple tracking devices, of the same sort a wealthy noble would give to his daughter to keep tabs on her location. Crude, but ideally simplistic enough to get overlooked by a scan in the rest of the advanced electronics within the weapons. Brushed with an adhesive on one side, Charon fitted one disc on each of the larger items in the cache, and finally one to the container itself. Satisfied, he stood up, tapping his comlink.

"Anders. I need some missiles to end up on the black market. Who's the most corrupt Logistician you know?"

[Plzen]

Free City of Northshore, Kalgan, Auroran Sector

It was commonly said that in the Auroran Sector, it was of the utmost importance that things be done in the proper manner, and of no great importance at all that the proper things be done. Nowhere was this more true than in the gears of Sectoral government bureaucracy. In the past five years alone the Civil Service had aided the Separatists against frontier criminal syndicates, aided the Jedi against the CIS, and aided the Empire against Jedi influence. The Civil Service had pursued a policy of Galactic integration and of Sectoral autonomy. The Civil Service fought hard to aid the mining interests against the refining interests, to aid the refining interests against the mining interests, and to maintain a free neutrality in the Sectoral economy.

Consequently, people who behaved in an ideologically consistent manner, who acted in accordance with his or her deeply-held commitments and beliefs, tended to not survive in the Civil Service. The people who tended to survive and rise to the upper ranks of the Service were the politically flexible but the procedurally stubborn, who had a knack for continuing to do the "right thing" even when the definition of "right" and the standards for judging it fluctuated with every new Minister in the Bureau, every new Chairman in Parliament, and every new Chancellor in the Coruscant Senate.

It therefore went without saying that the new ISB crackdowns in Kalgan threw the Service into a collective apoplectic rage. That just wasn't the way things were done, dammit. Not in this civilised Sector.

But of the Service's many characteristics, celerity has never been one of them. Nor was the heat or passion of its emotions. Not to mention, with the Lord High Commissioner absent due to being en route to Coruscant to visit the Emperor, the Civil Service was consequently lacking in any direction or drive beyond each man trying to avoid doing anything that a later inquiry might plausibly fault him for and the gears of the Service was extra-rusty.

It was only after a couple of days had passed since the incident that the Auroran Bureau of Internal Security finally got around to sending the Police a reminding notice that Sectoral government resources were not to be appropriated by the Imperial Security Bureau without the proper authorisations, and yet another couple more days before a commission was assembled to investigate whether there ought to be a proper Civil Service inquiry on whether the actions of the Imperial Security Bureau were appropriate under the revised Imperial-Auroran agreements and the customs of the Sector, and a different commission was formed to investigate whether an inquiry should be held on whether the appropriate level of violence was used.

Still, slow the Service may have been, it was still a powerful force. Very few people had much doubt about what the eventual results of those commissions and inquiries would be.

The Commissioner for the Kalgan Section of the Auroran Sector Police, in a desperate attempt to deflect the anger of the general public off to someone else, was quick to wash his hands of the affair, putting the police officers involved in the raid on probation - pending a full disciplinary hearing - and insisting that this brief breach in protocol was due to "the misguided initiative of individual officers" and certainly not anything do to with official Auroran Police - or at least Kalgan Police - policy. An investigation was opened to determine how the Imperial Security Bureau got their hands on police files concerning matters of internal Sector security.

This disregard for the Empire's laws and this disrespect for the Empire by whose legitimacy those laws stand, the collective hive-mind of the Sector bureaucracy pledged, would not pass without response.

[Abbeyverne]

Jeremiah Dawntreader
Twilight's Gleam - Deep Space

“Commander Darklighter, this is Captain Sianni. I have considered your generous offer and decided to accept. The Twilight Consortium will receive my full assistance.” Sianni declared with as much enthusiasm as he could muster; “As you may have seen, you have a few droid gunships making for you now. I’ll step in and keep them off your backs and deal with anything else the clankers decide to throw at you as you make your move to escape… Then how about we meet up somewhere out of system and talk payment? I have a feeling that our respective organisations could do a lot of business together…”

"Sir!" it was Päto, "someone has launched several gunships!"

"Ok, put me on the intercom," the intercom light blinked on, "Why thank you! after the smoke clears, you can meet us one system over to collect." The light went out.

"Uhh, sir, our 'friends' are shooting behind and to our flank, but sensors indicate the other CIS ships haven't even launched fighters yet."

"Ohh... hmm... oh, that's a good plan. Patch me through again."

Once again, the intercom light was lit, "Hello, I'm back! Ok, smart plan, but you know ships have sensors. I am not a betting man, but if I was, I'd wager you are trying to get paid from two people. Ahh, yes, my men inform be more than one transmission was beamed from your ship when you communicated with us. We offer to up the anti. Actually help us, and we'll throw in this here VCX-100. If it's credits you want, we'll do the legwork for you and sell it, giving you the cash, specifically, 150,000 credits. Take it, or you won't be seeing your hyperfuel." The light went out again. To the bridge crew, "Stop the retreat, but keep the navicomps online. Target those gunships, but do not fire!"

[Puertollano]

GEHENA | ABOARD THE LUCREHULK BATTLESHIP
the current

"That's if you want to actually trust me that is."

"That is the million credit question, is it not?" Gehena replied. What he was offering was not bad - the production of droids - wartime droids - to fight the new war against the Galactic Empire. It would help change the tide of war in their favour, not that much of a war has yet to occur. Gehena contemplated how they could possibly earn her trust. "If you are who you say you are, that you are committed to the Confederacy and the building of our troops, you must first join us in glorious battle. Only through the terror of war can you truly distinguish your friends from your enemies, and cowards from heroes."

At that, the turrets on the Lucrehulk-class Battleship began to pivot. It gave a residual shake to the hangar bay, the ship was getting a little old now. "We're on a war-footing," she said as a ship behind the Battleship began to fire at Darklighter's vessel. "Finish the job, then we can talk droids."

“Captain, if you have any ideas that may allow the chances of success for this plan to increase, I would like to hear them,” the General subtly inquired.

On board the bridge, after dealing with the Omrikon Council, Gehena and Kraken made their way to the bridge. Kraken began giving immediate orders at the bridge, many of the droids that were there were stunned, if not shocked at the re-emergence of another Super Tactical Battle Droid. Kraken was a General, formerly, of the CIS, but as far as Gehena knew, the CIS was a government of the past. Separatist Hold-outs had still held on, but the government was disintegrated in the supposed attack on Mustafa. First, certain matters would have to be dealt with. "Kraken," Gehena responded. "You may have been a General during the Clone Wars, but this is no longer the Clone Wars. You are aboard my ship, the ship which I am the Captain of. I believe we must first deal with the question that I thought the obvious: we need a clear chain of command. My subroutines cannot take your preposition that you control our, my forces, aboard my own ship. The Separatist Council is gone. Instead, we must re-build it in our own image. I propose that we are equal members of the New Separatist Council. In fact, this is not a proposal. I demand that, otherwise we will find it difficult to get along."

“TD X-340 - This is Captain Sianni. Please be advised that The Golden Gundark has deployed gunships and we are now moving to engage and pursue hostiles. I hope this gesture will allow me to prove myself to Captain Gehena and aid my case for gaining an audience at her convenience.”

The Tactical Droid witnessed the attacks on the hostiles as it had asked. In all reality, it was not expecting them to do so. It had no reason not to trust Captain Sianni now, not at all. In fact, he had all reasons to believe that the Captain was in fact, an ally of Separatist hold-outs. The Tactical Droid sent in the security pass to the Golden Gundark and allowed them access to the Hangar Bay. Once they would arrive at the Hangar Bay, they would be escorted to the bridge where they would be able to receive private audience now with both General Kraken and Captain Gehena.

[Quebec-Libre]

Savannah

His fear was displayed, that was for sure. Not only could she the stark terror on his face and in his eyes when she glanced over to look at him, she could also sense his fear like an overwhelming and unpleasant scent. It wasn't really her place to give him advice or to tell him what to do, but his abstract fear was sure to attract attention and he needed to get a handle on it. "Control yourself, you allow your fear and anger to show themselves to easily. You are one of the Order, you know that fear leads to the dark side, so begin acting like you aren't some hopeless padawan learner," She said, nearly hissing the last few words.

She allowed her words to sink in for a few seconds, slightly regretting her harshness before continuing the tangent the other Jedi had started, "I was off world, returning to the front lines from the Capital on a civilian craft when everything went to hell. The civilians were going to sell me out so I escaped using a shuttle they had. Mad my way to the outer rim and won myself a ship gambling, now I run odd jobs for the Hutts all while looking over my shoulder to make sure an inquisitor isn't following me," She said, grimacing slightly as she spoke. She had control over her feeling but the words still brought up fresh pain.

"What about you?" She asked

He looked off for a second, then spoke.

"I was in orbit around Geonosis. The Republic had been building a superweapon there. The DS-1 Orbital Battle Station is its official name, but most that know of its existence call it either the Ultimate Weapon or the Death Star. A few weeks before the end of the war I was made a General and me and my troops, the 22nd Offense Corps, were sent there to protect the weapon's construction. The 22nd was made up of volounteer non-clones. When the order was carried out, they fought against the Clones so I could run off and escape. I was planning on going back to Coruscant but I recieved a message from Master Kenobi telling all Jedi to do the exact opposite. So I went to Tatooine, worked numerous odd jobs before I returned here looking for answers."

He took a sip of his pint, pausing before continuing, this time on a much harsher tone that provided answers.

"And don't lecture me about pain and fear. In my second battle I lost the entirety of my Corps. 36,000 souls just erased by an orbital bombardment, in the push of a button. Before that I went through dozens of Jedi Masters because everyone who started to train me died. Even Master Qui-Gon didn't survive his mission on Naboo after taking me under his wing for less than a month. My definitive master then died saving my life because we were sent half-assed in a mission just so we could pretend we didn't open a new theater for the war. I've seen death firsthand so many times that I can hear the screams everytime I close my eyes. I have to put on a device that shuts off my connection to the Force just so I can sleep at night."

Liujas then looked away for a second before calming down.

"I'm sorry I just got...carried over."

[Transoxthraxia]

Eventually however while looking around, Cornelius had collided with a smaller person clad in a black coat sporting a fully enclosed helmet of the same color. Cornelius had also noticed that his helmet had fallen out of his utility belt and was now near the feet of the person he had just bumped. Rushing over in a bit of a hidden panic, hoping no clone patrol had seen it, he picked it up and re-attached the helmet to his utility belt, hidden away from the world again.

"You alright there, friend? You know by any chance where to buy a fusion cutter for an agreeable price?" Cornelius asks the person he just bumped into as they try to recover from the hit.

Siq had found herself lost in thought as she moved about Kala'uun's market. The noises, smells, and large amount of people had been a sensory overload to the young Padawan, who was struggling to maintain her focus. She had closed her eyes and attempted to keep her focus around herself, but things were far from easy. The market was a massive change from her quiet, insulated apartment, and even being isolated from the pure noise of a galactic market had stripped Siq of her preparation.

Panic rose in her stomach, and she worked to contain it, trying desperately to keep her composure. But the young Chiss couldn't help but have her eyes dart back and forth, from one individual to the next, suspecting any of the people at the Galactic Market to grab her by the scruff of her disguise and proclaim that they have found a Jedi. It didn't help that the helmet hiding her face wasn't well-optimized for her, limiting her vision further. She had serious thoughts about turning back, but she knew that if she did she'd be going home without food. Looking up at the stalls, she tried to decipher what a lot of them were offering. Based off of their goods, she wasn't even sure if she was in the right quarter of the market anymore. It'd take way too long to find the right place without asking... but if I ask, it'd raise some suspicions... Siq thought, beginning to ponder what to do as she walked.

Suddenly she felt a massive force on her left, blindsiding her and sending her nearly jumping backwards. Looking towards the culprit, she noticed something that made her blood run cold: a helmet resembling that of a Phase II Clone Battle Helmet that fell forth as a result of the collision. It wasn't long before Siq's accidental run-in hid the helmet again, but to the Padawan, the damage had been done. She looked up: a human with a scruffy beard and some unkempt hair was staring at her. He definitely wasn't a clone - that much was certain - but the helmet had worried her. "I'm fine, yes. And sorry, I don't, I'm a bit of a foreigner in these markets I'm afraid, looking for some food myself." she mentioned, her helmet's build in voice change altering the way that she sounded. "Why do you ask?"

[United Islands of Polis]

-snip-

Ex-Lieutenant Cornelius Mors
Kala'uun
Gaulus Sector

"Damn, I might actually have to buy that overpriced piece of crap." Cornelius sighed to himself. He had at the moment a rather large amount of credits, plus whatever he's saved for the past year, however having lived off of his three years of pension before had forced him to bargain for better prices or make sure that the person he was buying from wasn't up-marking prices for benefit. Maybe he'd give it one last go, or maybe just find a different store altogether. Though he could just rob it, he had done it a few times when needed, but Cornelius did not want the law on him, not without a way to disappear at least.

"I need one because repair fees all the way out here sometimes makes shooting yourself in the foot a much better price. Both for ships and armor." Cornelius explained to the smaller figure. He remembered the last time he had a run in with pirates. The repair fees of the first five shops having been way overpriced, if not they probably would have taken a few parts and listed them as damaged in the repairs and taken them to sell on the black market. Unbelievable at first but the scam had worked for Cornelius when he had needed spare parts.

The stranger had mentioned something about food, it had been almost a week since Cornelius had a real meal and not one that came from an MRE or anything of the similar type. Only then had he realized he too was hungry. "Food huh? Yeah I saw some on the way here, it's a few streets down, c'mon." Cornelius gestured to her to follow him.

"On places like this, you'd know where food is by hearing the fain sizzling sound of cooking, but of course the next question is if you can eat what they're serving or not." Cornelius went ahead and parted a tip the stranger may know or not. "By the way, you said you were a foreigner? Where from?"

[Revlona]

Savannah

"I won't lecture you if you don't need to be lectured, your fear is so damn potent I wouldn't be surprised if Vader himself felt it," She said before calming down herself, "But who am I to talk, I lecture you in controlling you in fear while being afraid because you show that fear," She let out a sigh and leaned back in her seat.

"You were on Tattoine? To think we were on the same planet and never realized it, I should be ashamed that I never sensed you, most people would never shut up about how sensitive to the force I was yet I didn't even know you were a jedi until you walked through that door," She said, motioning to the Cantinas entrance with a jerk of her head.

"Anyways, I apologize for the lecture, however I'm not exactly here for a chat, I could feel another Jedi in the temple an---" she said, a sick sense of fear, anger, and hatred coming over her as she sensed something new coming from the direction of the temple. Her posture stiffened and she began glancing around the room, "We need to leave this place...I need to leave this place...no no no...its so wrong.." She began to mutter to herself.

She stood quickly from where she had been seated, dropped a few credits onto the table, and shuffled towards the door, forgetting completely about the other Jedi she had been speaking to just seconds before. To most people she would look like a drunk who had one to many, to those more sensitive beings, they would be able to sense the unadulterated terror that was flowing from her in thick waves.

She reached down to her waist and unclipped her communicator, "Eric...I'm coming back to the ship! We need to leave!!" She said, her voice breaking in fear.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“Within the hour, you say? A bold promise, captain. I will be keeping you to it” Vader said, laying a gloved hand on the captain’s shoulder. It had taken all of five minutes for captain Solaren to get on Vader’s nerves. Having recently graduated from the academy, and having been propelled to high commissioned rank by his family’s connections, Solaren looked like something from a propaganda poster. All crisp salutes and shiny uniforms. Another similarity between a poster and Solaren was their command ability; Solaren was entire incapable to ingratiate himself with his men other than by showing off his rank insignia. He was all bark and little bite, and even his bark was undercut by its high pitch. His voice had a tendency to crack in the middle of important sentences.

“Of course, my Lord” Solaren answered, his voice artificially deepened. It was not only his arrogant tone that annoyed Vader; it was his arrogant feeling. Through the Force, Vader could feel that this man though of himself as the new Tarkin, and every assignment below the rank of admiral was wasting his time. His annoyance, Vader felt, was shared among his clone troopers, who seemed eminently more cautious. Some of these troops were veterans of the Felucia campaign, which meant they were familiar with Aayla Secura. No-one who knew Secura was confident in victory against a Jedi, and it was clear Solaren had never even seen one before.

“I can assure you…” the captain continued, but Vader held up his hand to silence him.

“… That… I…” he continued, but his words floundered against the cliffs of Vader’s baritone.

“You can assure me by presenting me her head, captain” Vader said. “Otherwise, your assurances mean little”

The captain made a bow, the slightest he could muster, and moved away to a mobile command centre set up in what used to be the Jedi Archives. With the death of almost 90 troopers, the Temple had become a hotspot for all kinds of alphabet agencies. ISB, Military Intelligence, COMPNOR… Each sending a few agents with their own specialities. Each one equally unequipped to deal with this particular kind of fugitive. Vader would not waste his time with them, as there was nothing he could gain from them, and schooling them would take the better part of a week. Instead, he turned around, strolling gently through what was left of the Temple, his hands folded behind his back.

Even though the Temple had long been cleared of bodies, used for some experiments by Palpatine about which Vader remained ignorant, the Dark Lord could still feel where they fell. Even if he couldn’t, he could still remember every single creature, great and small, whether killed by Skywalker or by his troops. No matter how hard Vader tried not to be Anakin Skywalker, there were three memories that kept them forever linked: Obi-Wan on Mustafar, the sacking of the Temple, and… the woman. The queen, the senator… What was her name again…

No, there was no use trying to remember, and only harm could be done by it. The last whispers of her voice echoed from the distance, penetrating the dark cloud that he kept up around himself.

“… told me terrible things… Dark side… Killed Younglings”

Vader opened his eyes as if awakened from a dream. He could almost remember her face, but the sounds and the visions soon disappeared from view. Looking around, he saw that he had unconsciously sauntered into the Temple Spire. It was the only place that had not been cleaned up after the sack, as evidenced by the small, half-rotten bodies strewn about the council chamber. The seats of the former masters were half-burnt and cut to pieces, sliced in order to gain access to the younglings hiding behind them. Opened like ripe fruit. Vader’s mask told him it smelled like death; he was happy that he could not smell through it. Only one person in the Galaxy remained who knew Anakin had done this; and he was the same man who knew what he had become, and the same man who owned the weapon used to perform this massacre. The last connection between Skywalker and Vader. Vader’s first clenched in anger and purpose, a dark cloud that pushed away any memory of the woman… What was her name again…

“My… My Lord…” came a voice from his communicator. The unpleasant squeal of Solaren was even more infuriating when shaking with fright, so strong Vader did not even have to exert himself to feel it. “Please report to the command centre…”

***

“We lost Thunder, sir” Captain Solaren reported once Vader had gotten back to the former archives. The other officers were extremely busy, more busy than they had been when Vader had left them. Their eyes were so fixed on their screens that the Dark Lord could only conclude that they were desperately trying not to look him in the eye.

“Who is Thunder, and what is his CT-designation?” Vader asked. Solaren swallowed.

“Thunder… Thunder is not a trooper sir, it’s… Well…”

Not able to utter the words, he simply handed his datapad over to Vader. The Sith Lord only had to take a momentary glance at the report flashing before him before handing it back. His voice remained unraised, but his inflection altered somewhat. His delivery was slow and purposeful.

“You mean to say that the fugitive took down a whole cruiser, captain?”

“A… a light cruiser, my Lord…” Solaren tried to reassure him. For a moment, which felt like hours, the captain stared into the empty void of Vader’s helmet. Not even his monotone breathing changed.

“Show me, captain” he simply ordered. Flanked by some stormtroopers, the two made their way to the ascension tunnel. According to the floor plans, the sewer system under the Temple was emptied out in this tunnel, which was undoubtedly where the Jedi had fled to. At the bottom lay the burning wreckage of the Arquitens-class cruiser Thunder, shining like a distant torch in the Coruscanti underworld. They soon identified the bodies of a few clones, slain again with a lightsabre. The same sabre that had cut open the sewer grate.

“That’s impossible” the captain uttered, more like a prayer, as if saying it would undo everything. Vader had thankfully turned his attention to the speeder bike, which the fugitive must have left behind.

“What was the registry on that speeder bike again, captain?” Vader asked. Solaren, happy to be of any use to smooth out Vader’s anger, obliged.

“567 8727, my Lord. It belongs to Poggo Sanlish, a property owner in…”

“Thank you, captain, that would be all” Vader cut him off. Turning to one of the clone troopers, Vader again pretended like Solaren was not there.

“Lieutenant, have some men take this vehicle to the impound, then escort me to the Lower Levels”

“She would be a fool to return to Sanlish, now that we have her bike” Solaren said, now more confident. “We would do better to…”

But Vader ignored the shrill voice of the captain, instead turning to the lieutenant again.

“And lieutenant… Because the good captain Solaren was downed with the Thunder, it seems appropriate that you are raised to the position”

Vader could feel that the clone trooper shifted his eyes beneath his helmet to Solaren, standing so very near the edge of the platform. There was a moment of silence, but the clone trooper knew better than to argue with orders. Especially orders from Vader. Especially orders he agreed with.

“Yes, sir. Ready to move out” the new captain responded. Solaren, a look of disgust and surprise on his face, uselessly tried to interject.

“What is the meaning of…”

Before he could finish, an unseen Force blasted against his chest, throwing him some feet up into the air, and then backwards off the edge of the platform. His cries of anguish and terror accentuated the annoying aspects of his voice, and Vader was happy to hear it diminish and diminish until it was heard no more. The body falling into the fire below did not make a sound they could recognise from so far up. Right at that moment, a LAAT/i shuttle descended into the tunnel, with some elite troopers of the 501st on board. Their black stripes were a relief for Vader, who was happy to be rid of the incompetence of human officers.

“What are we after, my Lord?” the clone commander asked as Vader came aboard.

“A description… and leverage” Vader responded, as the LAAT/i began its descent into the lower levels.

[The V O I D]

GEHENA | ABOARD THE LUCREHULK BATTLESHIP
the current

“Captain, if you have any ideas that may allow the chances of success for this plan to increase, I would like to hear them,” the General subtly inquired.

On board the bridge, after dealing with the Omrikon Council, Gehena and Kraken made their way to the bridge. Kraken began giving immediate orders at the bridge, many of the droids that were there were stunned, if not shocked at the re-emergence of another Super Tactical Battle Droid. Kraken was a General, formerly, of the CIS, but as far as Gehena knew, the CIS was a government of the past. Separatist Hold-outs had still held on, but the government was disintegrated in the supposed attack on Mustafa. First, certain matters would have to be dealt with. "Kraken," Gehena responded. [color=#800040]"You may have been a General during the Clone Wars, but this is no longer the Clone Wars. You are aboard my ship, the ship which I am the Captain of. I believe we must first deal with the question that I thought the obvious: we need a clear chain of command. My subroutines cannot take your preposition that you control our, my forces, aboard my own ship. The Separatist Council is gone. Instead, we must re-build it in our own image. I propose that we are equal members of the New Separatist Council. In fact, this is not a proposal. I demand that, otherwise we will find it difficult to get along."

---

Aboard Gehena's Lucrehulk Battleship
Outer Rim Space
Post-Imperial Founding

Kraken was taken aback, even as other events were ongoing. The Super Tactical Droid ran some calculations and considered the matter thoroughly, though the runtimes spent on it would allow him to come to a decision in a mere few seconds of real-time (albeit, this was almost an eternity to a Super Tactical Droid). And the General found that, while he could not necessarily refute Gehena's points, it still grated on him slightly to be spoken to in such a manner.

“Captain Gehena, your proposal is... interesting, I suppose,” the General replied, “yet your own point works against you. With the Separatist Council gone, and Count Dooku unfortunately dead, in the absence of a proper Confederate government, I am the highest ranking member of the Droid Army present - and, to my knowledge, in general. I was also the personal Super Tactical Droid who served directly for the Count in numerous battles, and when I was briefly incapacitated, the Count had me rebuilt. Your objectives and my own may differ only in the most trivial ways, but in the end, we should share a common enemy: the Republic's successor state in the Empire.”

Kraken paused, briefly.

“To that end, and because the chain of command should be quite clear, I have a compromise to propose,” he continued, “and it is this: the establishment of a High Command for the Droid Army to act as a 'new separatist council,' to represent the Confederacy's status as effectively being under martial law. In this High Command, we shall be equals in decision-making matters as far as trying to reestablish Separatist resources, Droid Army factories, gathering and control of allies, and allocation of forces - but in combat and in the field, if we are together or our fleets united, I will act as the Supreme Commander. I am willing to negotiate on these points, but perhaps such a thing can wait until after we have secured a system to operate within.”

The General looked at Gehena after he stopped speaking, slowly tilting his head.

“I also have a proposal for the first matter of address for a High Command meeting, should you accept this proposal: that once we have gathered sufficient forces or support, it should be an objective to find a way to send a reactivation signal to all Droid Army facilities and a call to arms for all former Separatist systems,” Kraken shared what was, ultimately, his overall plan - once he had the right resources, support, and the Empire was adequately distracted somehow, of course.

[Quebec-Libre]

Savannah

"I won't lecture you if you don't need to be lectured, your fear is so damn potent I wouldn't be surprised if Vader himself felt it," She said before calming down herself, "But who am I to talk, I lecture you in controlling you in fear while being afraid because you show that fear," She let out a sigh and leaned back in her seat.

"You were on Tattoine? To think we were on the same planet and never realized it, I should be ashamed that I never sensed you, most people would never shut up about how sensitive to the force I was yet I didn't even know you were a jedi until you walked through that door," She said, motioning to the Cantinas entrance with a jerk of her head.

"Anyways, I apologize for the lecture, however I'm not exactly here for a chat, I could feel another Jedi in the temple an---" she said, a sick sense of fear, anger, and hatred coming over her as she sensed something new coming from the direction of the temple. Her posture stiffened and she began glancing around the room, "We need to leave this place...I need to leave this place...no no no...its so wrong.." She began to mutter to herself.

She stood quickly from where she had been seated, dropped a few credits onto the table, and shuffled towards the door, forgetting completely about the other Jedi she had been speaking to just seconds before. To most people she would look like a drunk who had one to many, to those more sensitive beings, they would be able to sense the unadulterated terror that was flowing from her in thick waves.

She reached down to her waist and unclipped her communicator, "Eric...I'm coming back to the ship! We need to leave!!" She said, her voice breaking in fear.

He'd be a pretty bad liar if he said he didn't feel it too.

"Oh my...Oh...It's...What is this..."

He followed her, taking his blaster. The darkness he was feeling was beyond anything he ever felt, and that made him believe things were about to go awfuly bad. But he wasn't going to run away from a fight should there be one, especially if it was to help a fellow Jedi. He didn't trust her but he knew that their best chance of staying alive would be following the principle of strenght through numbers. It was their only chance, if you could even consider it one.

There was one slight problem though

He had actually felt such darkness before, exactly once. That was during the day that shaped the future they were living in.

Once more the Sith will rule the Galaxy...And we shall have...Peace.

[Cheye]

The Golden Gundark, Diamond-class Cruiser - Deep Space

"Hello, I'm back! Ok, smart plan, but you know ships have sensors. I am not a betting man, but if I was, I'd wager you are trying to get paid from two people. Ahh, yes, my men inform be more than one transmission was beamed from your ship when you communicated with us. We offer to up the anti. Actually help us, and we'll throw in this here VCX-100. If it's credits you want, we'll do the legwork for you and sell it, giving you the cash, specifically, 150,000 credits. Take it, or you won't be seeing your hyperfuel."

“Of course ships have sensors!” Sianni replied over the comm with a wry chuckle; “Very rational to check them really, but you’d be amazed how often people forget to do so when they’re in the heat of the moment, the pressure’s racing, and everything else has lined up just perfectly enough to make all their senses believe something is happening when in fact it isn’t… In such circumstances, for the brain to actually remind you to check your ship's monitors against what you can see and hear with your own eyes and ears, why that rational act almost becomes completely irrational really!”

The Captain paused, another communication was coming in, he cut the comm as he looked over the message the comm officer had relayed to the tactical interface overhead.

The Tactical Droid sent in the security pass to the Golden Gundark and allowed them access to the Hangar Bay.

“Ah! Finally! Get the gunships back double time, and give us emergency thrusters until we can dock with the Lucrehulk.” Sianni was grinning from ear to ear.

As the gunships turned on themselves, speeding away from the Consortium fleet that was levelling out from its retreat vector, Sianni nodded to restore the comm channel, speaking once more to this Darklighter.

“Darklighter... Or is it Dawntreader? The aliases used by the Captain of the Twilight's Gleam appear to be manifold - wonderful thing sensors, aren't they? Anyway, regardless of whoever you are, its whoever on your bridge crew that brought my firing arc to your attention that I want to praise... It was my firing arc right? Or was it the fact those Gunships didn’t come from the Command Ship? Or maybe it really was the fact I’ve been sending out encrypted transmissions left, right and centre since you arrived? Well, whatever it was that gave my deception away, it doesn’t really matter now, but whoever used their computer instead of their eyes and ears to bring it to your attention deserves high praise indeed.” Sianni nodded solemnly.

“Of course… my deception was the only thing keeping you alive.”

Sianni sighed and allowed a long moment to go by in silence before continuing.

“If you’d just continued your retreat we could have all been happy… But no.” Sianni threw his arms up just as unbeknown to him, the Separatist Command Ship’s vast array of turbolasers opened fire, targeting Darklighter’s flagship. His Gossam sensor officers began excitedly relaying this information to him but by the time they’d explained laser-bolts were already whizzing past The Golden Gundark and his gunships and Sianni knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Enjoy oblivion, Commander Darklighter!"

Sianni was about to order the comm channel cut with another hand gesture, but as The Golden Gundark began to turn away and speed around towards the Lucrehulk, he got his last look at the hodgepodge Consortium fleet, now under fire, and something in the back of his mind stopped him from completing the hand gesture. His raised fingers held in place and he began to think and then worse still, to feel something...

If the droids had in fact just been jerking him around as he'd assumed they had earlier, then Darklighter’s offer might have been tempting, the problem was that he had far more to gain from a possible audience with Gehena then he did with this Consortium. Still, their offer had been generous at least, and they hadn’t opened fire on discovering his ruse. A better man would have felt something for them, outnumbered as they were, and Blue was always telling him to be a better man, wasn’t she?...

“Darklighter… Dawntreader...” He exhaled, the comm still live.

What was he doing?

“You asked me to actually help you, so I will. No tricks. Now, my honest assessment of your situation is that you can’t win this thing. Too many droids, too many droid ships. Resume your retreat, get to safety.”

No… that wasn’t really helping them was it?

He couldn't offer much actual assistance now, the die had been cast on that score, but he could still make an ally...

“I have no love for the Separatists, but my organisation requires knowledge that is currently only in their possession so I simply have to board that command ship and meet with the droid leader. You could shoot my ship in the back right now and ruin my day, or you could make a suicidal rush against that Lucrehulk and also ruin my day, but I’m hoping you won’t... If you get out of here and still want to meet up after this, I’ll share with you the intel the droids give my organisation, if I’m successful. Hopefully it will contain data on where we can get some ships. Big ones. Ones that went dormant when the shut-down signal came at the end of the war and are just floating out there now, ready for some good old fashioned privateers to retrieve them. I imagine there are more of them out there than my organisation can crew. We have a refueling station for our fleet but no reliable source of coaxium so if you really are good for it I don’t see why we can’t still do business?”

The Golden Gundark raced back towards the Lucrehulk, several of the bridge crew opening the cargo bay to allow the Gunships to return while several more worked on imputing the docking codes Gehena’s Tactical Droid had provided and running simulations on how they would bring the relatively bulky cruiser in line with the Lucrehulk’s hangar bay.

Why am I telling him all this?

“Why am I telling you this? You’re probably wondering that right now. Well… its because before the droids and the war, and the empire, we privateers and spacers looked out for one another, had too to survive, but now that’s all gone. Like a light went out somewhere in the galaxy and nobody noticed, because in the heat of the moment, with the war raging and the pressure racing, everything else just lined up perfectly enough to make us forget...” Sianni sighed. "...As though no one thought to check the sensor to see where it went..."

Sianni caught himself. Laser bolts from the Lucrehulk lit the stars red as they arced past Sianni's viewport. He had wanted to do a good thing, and he'd ended up completely letting his armour down, not The Golden Gundark's, but his. He felt a rawness he had been suppressing deep within him for a long time...

“Goodbye Jeremiah Dawntreader. And whatever your next move... good luck.”

[Abbeyverne]

Jeremiah Dawntreader
Before order 66, aboard the Twilight’s Gleam

Jeremiah looks out over the vast expanse of space from the bridge of his flagship, cold, blue eyes scanning carefully the fighters, ships, and men of his nascent fleet. Yes. This is where I belong.

“Sir, the fleet is at full readiness,” declared his XO. “Let’s show these clankers whose boss!”

“Very well, put me through to the Admiral.”

“Yes, sir.”

A holoprojection appears, “You are ready?” Incredulity spreads across the Admiral’s face, he is a military man, and doesn’t feel for these pirates among his pristine fleet.

“Yes, Admiral. All ships are fueled, and the men are prepared to fight.”

“Then fight they will. You will proceed to the Sertar sector, there awaits a Confederate Supply vessel. Is is guarded by several small ships. Destroy them all.”

“Very well, Admiral. I shall report to you after the battle.”

“Yes.” The holoprojection disappears, the link closes with a click.

Into the comms, “All ships prepare to jump to hyperspace on my mark.”

The stars stretch into lines as the fleet moves to battle. Let’s show those clankers…

---

Twilight's Gleam - Deep Space

"Sir, our ships are being shot at by the CIS battleship!" an ensign shouted.

Jeremiah spoke into the comms, "Battle Stations, this is not a drill! Use evasive action! Fighters, target the guns on that Lucrehulk!" Then, to his bridge crew, forget those gunships, unless they start shooting, target the hangar on the battleship! We can't have fighters swarming us!"

Päto spoke up, "Sir, should we talk to our 'friends' on that cruiser again?"

“I have no love for the Separatists, but my organisation requires knowledge that is currently only in their possession so I simply have to board that command ship and meet with the droid leader. You could shoot my ship in the back right now and ruin my day, or you could make a suicidal rush against that Lucrehulk and also ruin my day, but I’m hoping you won’t... If you get out of here and still want to meet up after this, I’ll share with you the intel the droids give my organisation, if I’m successful. Hopefully it will contain data on where we can get some ships. Big ones. Ones that went dormant when the shut-down signal came at the end of the war and are just floating out there now, ready for some good old fashioned privateers to retrieve them. I imagine there are more of them out there than my organisation can crew. We have a refueling station for our fleet but no reliable source of coaxium so if you really are good for it I don’t see why we can’t still do business?”

“Why am I telling you this? You’re probably wondering that right now. Well… its because before the droids and the war, and the empire, we privateers and spacers looked out for one another, had too to survive, but now that’s all gone. Like a light went out somewhere in the galaxy and nobody noticed, because in the heat of the moment, with the war raging and the pressure racing, everything else just lined up perfectly enough to make us forget...” Sianni sighed. "...As though no one thought to check the sensor to see where it went..."

“Well, a wonderful pep talk, but we need more ships. Let’s punch it!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Are the hyperdrives ready to go?"

"Yes, let’s get out of here!.”

"Ok, bring the fighters back!”

The fighters, ceasing their bombing run, returned to the fleet.

"Sir! The [i]Constant Light[i]’s hyperdrive has been damaged by that CIS ship! The sublights are fine, but they won't be getting out of the system."

"Oh, well, that settles it. We are staying and fighting it out! Reroute power from the hyperdrive to the weapons systems, let's show them what we've got! Move the fleet so the [i]Constant Light[i] is covered to make repairs! Put me on the comms with that Sianni guy quick.” He got a thumbs up from Päto. “Hello. Now you see, we aren’t retreating, well, one of our ships hyperdrives was damaged in that barrage. We are working to repair it, and don’t worry, our deal is still on. Here are the coordinates for where we will rendezvous. See you when we get outta this mess.”

[Revlona]

Savannah

Savannah noticed the other Jedi following her but it didn't completely register in her mind, she was completely one tracked now that the feeling of dread and hate were overwhelming her senses. A calm and collected male voice came over the communicator as she braced herself against the wall outside the cantina, "Yes Captain Storm, is everything all right?" Her XO said worry evident in his voice. She had understood for a long time that the young man that was her second in command had held romantic feelings for her, she didn't reciprocate, it wasn't the jedi way, however she did hold a soft spot in her heart for the man and that added to his skill as a officer resulted in his position aboard ship. He was the only one who knew what she truly was after all.

She stumbled towards the port where the small shuttle she had rented sat, she would need it to get herself, and the other jedi if he decided to come, off world and out of the system. All thoughts of the first jedi she had sensed had evaporated as the darkness had pushed them away. She could still feel the other Jedi and it almost felt like they were closer, were they out of the temple? Maybe she could go and...no! She couldn't, not with whatever that darkness was nearby. It would be a long way to the port she realized, especially with the pain she was feeling in her mind and soul.

She just hoped she hadn't sensed the Darkness to late.

[Cheye]

The Nebula, Consular-class Cruiser - Zygerria System

“Karabast!”

Captain Dajala Raya hissed her curse as the exotic collection of aliens that made up the bridge crew of the casino ship Nat had dubbed The Nebula frantically began reacting to the abnormally high volume of interstellar traffic they had found upon dropping into the system.

It wasn’t the number of ships in the space above Zygerria that made her curse though. It was the fact that the vast majority of them belonged to the Imperial Navy.

Multiple transport ships seemed to be in various stages of departure from the planet’s surface, guarded by an array of Imperial warships that would give even the most seasoned of blockade-runners pause for thought. This wasn’t a blockade though. The presence of so many transports attested to that. This was something else entirely. A raid perhaps? But if it were a raid where were the proud forces of Zygerria? Had they been obliterated, or had they given up without a fight?

As far as Dajala had known, as far as the galaxy had known, Zygerria had remained open for business as a nominally independent world under Queen Shichuren Sol. The new queen who played her cards close to her chest, deciding that she would wait for the Empire to come to her before she would declare one way or the other if Zygerria stood with Palpatine’s new order…

Clearly, they had come.

Dajala spent a long time silently surveying this new Imperial occupation of her homeworld. Apart from the damage caused by Queen Miraj Scintel’s flirtation with Dooku’s Separatists and the events that led to her assassination, the planet had actually come out of the war relatively prosperous and crucially unoccupied. To see it now, with Imperial warships looming large, chilled the Captain of The Nebula to her core.

To survive the war only to end up like this...

“Cruiser designated CC551-098.” The clipped accent almost stung her sensitive Zygerrian ears as it burst through the ship’s comm. “Proceed to civilian flight corridor and prepare your vessel for scanning.”

“Ugh… negative… negative… we err… we just had a hyperdrive leak and had to jump out of hyperspace to get it patched up, we’ll be on our way out of the system shortly. No need for flight corridor or vessel scan!” Dajala tried to respond smoothly into the comm. She was never very good with words though, not like Sianni or even Nat.

“Negative, CC551-098. This is an Imperial military operation, you will proceed to the flight corridor at once and submit to scanning.” The clipped-prick accented Imperial replied firmly.

Dajala sighed. Carofo Hojilli, her Abednedo chief pilot, looked to her for instruction. She nodded her intention to comply with the order and the Abednedo turned back to his console. Within seconds the small repurposed casino cruiser was lurching in the direction of the assigned Imperial flight route.

“Keep your distance. Caro….” She instructed, as one of the Arquitens-class cruisers protecting the transports loomed close. “But don’t look like you’re trying to keep your distance…” He groaned audibly and she added; “I don’t know… fly casual!”

The doors to the bridge hissed open behind Dajala and she glanced over her shoulder to see Huk Kyven, her on board Security Chief striding forward; “You know the Commodore maintains a strict policy about us operating in Imperial Space, Captain…” The proud one-horned Chagrian chided.

“Well nobody told me that this was Imperial space now!” The Zygerrian Captain shot back.

“Easy now, Captain. You don’t want to upset our passengers by saying things like that too loudly.”

“Talk down to me again on my own bridge again Kyven and I’ll rip your other horn off!” Dajala hissed back, but it came out a little more severely than she intended. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, her blood was boiling, and now she was lashing out at her crew.

“You’d make me look like a damn twi’lek!” Kyven barked before letting out a deep laugh. He could clearly tell she wasn’t feeling too good. When he was done laughing, he cleared his throat. “I know it must be hard to see warships circling over your home, Captain. I’m sorry. Still, our duty is to our passengers and to the Commodore.”

“I know…” Raya hissed. “But if they scan us, they’ll pick up the games machines and they’ll find out we’re unlicensed.” She sighed, running a hand through the fur atop her head. “On top of that, I have a bad feeling that the Empire might take an interest in our passenger list as well...”

“What makes you say that?”

She pointed out of the viewscreen. “Transports. Lots of them. The Empire has come for my homeworld’s one abundant resource… Slaves.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Now you tell me; if you had to place a bet, do you think the Empire came here to purchase those slaves, or take them through force?” As if to emphasise her point, a squadron of V-Wings policing the flight corridor suddenly zoomed past the bridge.

“Point taken.” The Chagrian exhaled.

“And here I am, a Zygerrian privateer Captain with a criminal record, ambling about in an unlicensed gambling ship that Nat obtained on the black market, and I’m carrying several prominent Zygerrian nobles back from a jolly in the Outer Rim.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Kyven shrugged and let out another long breath. “We should contact the Commodore.”

“Nat won’t be able to think of anything quicker than we can.” Dajala shook her head. “Besides, if the Imperials decrypt the transmission and trace it, they could blacklist Nat and the entire SS&S operation. I won’t be the reason this enterprise fails, Kyven. Not while Sianni’s off winning cruisers for the fleet.”

“She ought to know if one of her ships is about to be impounded though…” The Chagrian pressed. She couldn’t help but notice his choice of words, how he had chosen to focus on the ship being impounded, not the fate of its captain and crew…

“No. We’re not losing the ship or our passengers to some procedural scan. We can drop the nobles off on Orondia and they can make their own way back to Zygerria. They’ll moan, goodness knows I know my own kind enough to know they’ll moan, but they’ll come to appreciate it far more than if we get busted up here and get them arrested. I mean best case scenario, and we make it down to the planet, they might find that the Empire has gone and usurped the throne and seized all their property or something stupid like that, and then what are we supposed to do, just say goodbye and fly away?... No, we need to get back to base.”

“You have a plan then?” Kyven asked, whether out of mere curiosity or a deeper sense of desperation it was hard to tell. Chagrians always came across so stern.

“Not yet…” She admitted, eyes flicking from his blue face back out to the viewscreen and the line of civilian traffic being tightly corralled by the Imperials ahead. “But I’m working on one...”

The Golden Gundark, Diamond-class Cruiser - Deep Space

“Karabast!”

Turbolsaser fire was filling the space around The Golden Gundark and the Lucrehulk now, Dawntreader’s flagship was returning fire and a small group of Y-Wings and Z-29s from his fleet had broken off and were now soaring past The Gundark’s viewport, already on a well-formulated attack path for the Lucrehulk’s impressive battery array.

The tactical display told him that a message had come in from Dawntreader, but his comms officer was busy relaying the docking codes TD X-340 had sent over back to the droids aboard Gehena’s flagship and the rest of the bridge crew were manning their stations, bringing the hefty former Commerce-Guild droid carrier into alignment with the docking tube that had now been extended from an airlock adjacent to the hangar bay. Instead of playing Dawntreader’s message aloud in the midst of this, Sianni brought it up on the tactical display in text format and skimmed it, as outside more turbolaser fire bounced off the command ship’s shields not too far from the hangar bay The Golden Gundark was now aligned with.

It didn’t contain anything he hadn’t been able to discern himself from the commotion taking place out there, but despite Dawntreader’s decision to stay an fight, Sianni was pleased that at least he was interested in taking him up on the offer of a future meeting, provided they all survived this.

If this actually works and Blue not only gets her ships and a new friend who can provide a fleet’s worth of hyperfuel, she’d have to start being nicer to him, right?

As if by chance, at that exact moment a hologram shimmered to life before his command chair.

He didn’t need to look to see who it was, only one person had a direct hololine to his ship, a requirement of his contract with her… “Ah Blue! I was just thinking about you.”

He glanced at her once the hologram had fully materialised. The slender Pantoran held her hands on her hips, a look of only moderate concern etched across her pretty blue face… and was she wearing only a towel?

He was about to comment on her apparel, or lack thereof when she spoke first, cutting him off.

“Save it Sianni!” Nat folded her arms.“About half an hour ago Udamos told me you’d made contact… but we haven’t heard anything from you since. I was just about to go for another luxury Ardennian back-rub when I thought I’d check everything was going well?”

A luxury Ardennian back-rub?! While he was out here risking his neck!

“Oh relaxing are you, ‘Commodore’? How lovely. Well, you needn’t trouble yourself with me. Everything’s going great.” Sianni scoffed... Outside the viewport Dawntreader’s fighters began to dart past, racing back from their run on the command ship’s guns as the Lucrehulk’s smaller auto-turrets opened up on them and they ducked and dived past The Golden Gundark before returning into no-man’s space.

“Was that blaster fire?!” Nat exclaimed. “And why are you still aboard your ship? I want answers, Sianni!”

“It’s a long stor-” Sianni began, but was interrupted as one of the Gossams turned in his direction and spoke.

“Docking complete sir.”

“Docking? You mean to tell me, you’ve only just arrived on board Gehena’s ship?” Nat pursed her lips, giving him that look that he could have sworn she only reserved for when he had irritated her.

“Errr yes. The situation here has been a little… tense… Anyway I better get on board. Don’t you have any other ships you can check in on instead of distracting me? What’s Raya up to? Back from escorting those slavers she calls kinsmen back from their Canto Bight joyride yet?”

“Not yet. But I doubt she’ll have any trouble.” Nat exhaled. “Believe it or not Sianni, your mission is the one that's top priority at the moment. We need those ship leads.”

“Understood, understood.” Sianni nodded, quickly rising from his command chair.

“If you get into any trouble negotiating with Gehena feel free to put me on, with any luck she’ll see me as an old associate who’s good for doing business with, but if things go south then you must get that data by whatever means necessary. I don’t care if you have to pull it out of their computer systems yourself.”

As she spoke, Sianni turned his back to her and reached to picked up his long sanguine-red trench-coat from the hook on the back of his chair before draping it over his shoulders, fastening the chain that held it in place like a cape around his neck, before turning back to her; “Don’t worry Blue, I’m a professional, and the crew of The Golden Gundark won’t let you down.”

He turned and strode from the bridge, leaving without hanging-up the holocall. She had been the one to call him unexpectedly, so she could be the one to terminate it.

While uniquely his bridge-crew were all Gossams, just like the other ships in Sadaar’s Casino Fleet the rest of The Golden Gundark’s crew were a mixed bunch, and he had already selected his best four to accompany him aboard before they had even arrived in system.

Crosnak was his muscle. Having a silent and massive Dowutin serve as the Chief of Security aboard The Golden Gundark often helped, and he reasoned Crosnak would be worth accompanying him aboard in case the droids tried anything funny. Jene was a highly-skilled Verpine technician who had made herself useful in the Casino Fleet fixing up the weapons and droids they had inherited from the vessel’s previous owners. Originally she had flown with Udamos aboard The Silver Star but she’d transferred to his crew when he had acquired his droid gunships a few months back, she was there for tech support. The ship’s black and gold plated croupier droid, H-3PX, specialised in protocol but had also been extensively rewired to provide additional security, so he too made a natural choice for the team. Then finally Zenorbo Ebo, the Rodian Security Enforcer Sianni had flown with since that business on Obah Dia, there was no one he would rather have watching his back if things went south.

This small eclectic team met him at the airlock and then one by one they passed through the docking tube and into the hangar of the Lucrehulk, ready to meet Gehena face to face...

[Abbeyverne]

Jeremiah Dawntreader
Before order 66: Twilight’s Gleam

The fleet exited hyperspace, there was the cargo ship. Immediately, Jeremiah ordered his men after the engines. Fighters were launched by both sides, the battle was on. This would be the proving ground for the privateers.

“Fighters, finish up and engage the escorts! Capital ships, prepare boarding parties! We’re doing this the pirate way!”

The comms were filled with echoes of “Yes, sir!”

Soon, the escort frigates had been disabled, and the boardings commenced. Heavy hand to hand fighting was won by the pirates, and now they had two more ships. With that, the attention was focused on the large cargo ship.

---

Now: Twilight’s Gleam - Deep Space

“We must get that hyperdrive repaired, sir!” Came the shout from Päto.

“Ok. Fire up the flash shield and let the crew focus on repairs.”

The flash shield was an invention made by Jeremiah himself that involved a net thrown from the ship, which was studded with shield projectors. The resulting shield was monodirectional, but nearly impervious. The biggest downside was that the many shield projectors used a substantial amount of energy, so the flash shield could only be deployed briefly. Dawntreader’s XO mentioned the same: “Sir, that shield will drain our power, we won’t be able to jump!”

“Take the fighters aboard and begin defueling them. It’s a gamble, but if it works, we’re outta here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The shield was deployed, and all crew on the [i]Constant Light[i] began focusing on repairs. They would soon be ready to jump, unless something went horribly wrong.

Jeremiah opened his comms again, to update this Capitan Sianni, “We will exit the system shortly. If it wouldn’t be too hard, could you make sure no one can get behind us? Our gadget here can only protect us from the front. I hope you understand the gamble I am taking trusting you, and hope my faith was not misplaced. If you can't, have a nice talk with the boss clanker. Over and out.”

A response came through from the Sphyrna, “Repairs will be complete momentarily. It’s a good thing we keep spare parts aboard, the motivator was damaged.”

Jeremiah turned to his XO, "Good. I was kinda hoping we could take out some of their ships though..."

"Let's just try and stay alive for now," Päto responded.

"Fine."