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Law and Order [Republic Remnant Dominion of the Nar Haaska Hex]

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#1
Republic Storyteller

Republic Storyteller

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Mobilized, the arms of the Republic are.

 

Lawless space dominated for ages by the Hutts and their gangster borders on Remnant space. Their worlds harbor slavers, gangsters, murderers and other degenerates. They must be shown that that the Republic will not tolerate their breed of debauchery and their lack of care for basic rights. The senate, for this reason, has authorized action. Nar Haaska is to be dealt with, the slaves on Ziugen freed, and the secretive world of Tisht dealt with. 

 

It is time to bring law to the lawless.

 

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Travel to the trade world of Nar Haaska and deal with the Hutt cartels. They control everything here, including the known spice trade. Their gangs have infiltrated every corner of the planet. There are very few good people here, and most of them are slaves, used by the Hutts for entertainment and soldiers. A tiny fleet protects the planet, but mostly serves to stave off anyone thinking they can hone in on the Hutts territory.

 

Your task, if you accept it, is to infiltrate the planet and neutralize Hutt forces, capture the Hutts in charge so they can be brought to trial, and destroy any and all contraband that can be located.

 

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The world of Ziugen is a hot bed of trafficking. Not drugs or weapons, but people. Citizens of the galaxy are brought here, processed, and shipped to the highest bidder. People from the world itself are often sold into slavery by family members who cannot afford to feed them thanks to the tight control the Hutts exercise over the world. Ships come in and out with regularity, so it should be easy to slip in and deal with the issue.

 

Your task, if you accept it, is to infiltrate the planet and free the slaves from captivity. Their combined numbers should allow you and them to overthrow the Hutt's minions and claim the world as a free world, and a member of the Republic.

 

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Tisht is a secretive world. Not much is known about it save for the fact that nobody ever really gets there unless the Hutt's allow it. The major hyperspace lanes are tightly controlled by interdiction fields and two small Hutt fleets. Whatever they're hiding on Tisht is worth discovering, according to Republic Intelligence.

 

For this reason, Spectre Squadron and allied stealth fighter squadrons are being sent in to scout the world out and inflict losses on the Hutt forces. If successful, Tisht should swiftly be freed of Hutt Control, weakening their presence in the area.

 

 

 



#2
Mereel Vaun

Mereel Vaun

    Exiled Heir of Clan Vaun

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Location: RNV Agincourt, in hyperspace

Objective One: Liberate Nar Haaska

 

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197 Hours. That was how long Mereel had been away from the Iviin'yc: the flagship of the Remnant's 91st Expeditionary Fleet, and more importantly, his personal vessel. He and Tucker both knew well that he would be of no use on the Iviin'yc during the engagement at Nar Haaska, which was why he had relocated to the Agincourt for the last week.

 

His time on the Billet-class vessel had been undeniably well spent. As he walked through the pristine halls toward the main hangar bay, he took off his helmet and gave a nod toward a familiar looking ensign who's name temporarily eluded him. He clipped his helmet to his waist and stepped through the doorway to the main hangar.

 

Before even stepping out of the hall and onto the gantry overlooking the main hangar bay floor, he heard the fruit of his last eight days of labor, 

 

Taung - sa - rang - broka

jetiise - ka-'rta!

 

Clashing armor and the chanting voices of warriors reverberated throughout the main hangar bay. He strided up to the gantry's railing with a bit of a bounce in his step, and leaned on a bit of railing next to Lieutenant Colonel Oberman. After getting acquainted with the man during one of his sessions teaching Dha Werda Verda to a platoon, Mereel had developed a profound respect for the man now standing beside him. Mereel followed Oberman's eyes and looked out onto the hangar floor.

 

There were well over two hundred soldiers standing below them, singing and beating their own armored hands against their armor chest plates, and then turning to deliver the same blows to their allies standing beside them. Mistiming the tempo of Dha Werda was a good way to get your teeth knocked out, but as Mereel scanned row after row of soldiers, he didn't observe a single mishap. Their flawless tempo nearly drew a joyful tear from his eye.

 

"Hard to believe this lot was bringing their own armor and blasters to battles not too long ago."

 

Dha - Wer-da - Ver-da - a'den - tratu!

Na-diem - kan-dosii-adu!

 

Oberman stared at the ancient chant participants in awe as he spoke to Mereel, "Almost a third of the soldiers on the Agincourt are down there. Even though you blow up your own planets, your culture seems to know how to bolster morale."

 

Mereel simply nodded at the comment, "Mandos are warriors, have been for millennia. We ought to know how to get morale back up for when we inevitably kark up our conquests."

 

Duum - motir - ca-'tra - nau - tracinya!

Gra-'tua - cuun - hett - su - dralshy'a!

 

Mereel pulled himself away from the railing, the rhythmic chant was beginning to draw him in with its charm and he had no good reason to resist it. What would the point be if he had spent all this time teaching sergeants and lieutenants the Mandalorian chant if he himself didn't join them?  "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go get a few verses in before we drop out of hyperspace."


Edited by Mereel Vaun, 11 February 2018 - 12:33 AM.

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Armor | Blasters | Ships


#3
Alexandra Feanor

Alexandra Feanor

    The Lady in Silver.

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Location: Nar Haaska

Objective One: Deal with the Hutts

 

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Alexandra walked through the streets, her body covered head to toe in dark robes as she waited to see what might happen, hand resting on a staff she used to help her walk due to how unbalanced she felt. But, the staff helped a great deal as she could steady herself with it enough that she wasn't flailing about in a fight or tripping over herself like she normally did these days thanks to the infernal tail that she had wrapped around her under the robes. It was not the only item on her person though, her second hand brushing against the saber inside her robes and the blaster that was strapped to the other side of her waist. Walking with her was the small white furred Ashlan Wolf, looking out for any danger while they walked.

 

Her eyes traveled down the street before she came to a stop, bringing her second hand out into the open and away from the hidden saber under her cloak. She gripped the staff tight and looked down the long walkway at her target. The Hutt's Palace was not a hidden thing, and she knew that this would not be hard to get to, but with her in this current state she would need help from one of the other members of the Order. Her hand reached down to the communicator at her side and she spoke into it, keyed into a Republic channel.

 

Surely one of the other Jedi had arrived before the fleets or other forces, attempting to take a more surgical approach to this threat.

 

"Requesting assistance, three thousand meters south of the enemy palace. This is the Silver Lady, I will be standing off to the side... Beside a rather rundown cantina." She smiled as she saw the place, looking through the doorway and finding it still running. She could really do for a drink.

 

With that she stowed the communicator and started walking towards the stand, her hands retrieving some of the Hutt's local currency, having traded it over for ease of purchase before taking a seat and leaning her staff against the counter. Her hand reached and pulled the cloth away from her face, revealing her face and silver hair as she sat there. Soon enough she had a glass in her hand, and was drinking from it, listening to the hustle around her.

 

She smiled as a few spoke to eachother, saying something that she couldn't quite pick up even with her hearing. To them she looked like an unsteady young woman with Silver hair, no weapons, and just a staff, that she needed to stay stable. It was easy money for anyone that worked that line of work. Alexandra knew this well enough which is something that annoyed her about these people. They only ever had money on their mind, rather than thinking about the risks for five minutes. Which is what brought her to this moment as she heard one of them call for their buddies over a communicator.

 

"And here I just wanted to enjoy a drink." She said, huffing and waiting for her backup, and theirs. Her hands closing tighter as she downed the drink and turned around to face them with a smile before leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand, elbow placed on the top of her leg.

 

"Hello There, Can I help you?" She asked the men now, who just started to stand and circle as the bartender left. Weapons were drawn, but they were not blasters and instead were stun batons meant for one purpose. Funny, Alexandra didn't remember scheduling classes today, but it would appear that these ones needed taught a lesson.


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#4
Belizarius Krusi

Belizarius Krusi

    Jedi Scholar

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Location: Onboard The Watchman, orbiting Ziugen
Objective Two: Create a slave revolt on Ziugen


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Belizarius had spent years fighting against different criminal groups and organisations, few of them he disliked more than the Hutt cartels. Though most of the time he was cleaning up their mess on worlds far away from here but this was a bit different. He was to help in the creation of a slave revolt in Ziugen and ultimately pave the way for the arrival of Republic forces to bring law and order to this part of the galaxy. This was something quite different to how he normally operated but he was trying to think of it as an intense learning experience. He had only just landed at a spaceport on board the watchman, he thought it was the best option since the thing wasn't exactly the most threatening looking ship in existence as it was barely holding itself together.

He had decided against wearing his Jedi Robes since he was trying his best to not draw attention and instead was looking to pose as just some other small trader passing through the region. Instead of keeping his lightsaber on his belt, he put it into the inside pocket of a grey Kashmir jacket that he had put on. This was the most normal he had dressed for quite awhile, he did place a hold-out blaster on his pocket but to be honest he had absolutely no idea how to use the thing and it existed purely for show. His hope was he could get to his lightsaber fast enough and in general just hoped he wouldn't have to actually fight that much.

He looked behind him at the crates, normally he would care about carrying all these weapons on world but he knew that most likely he wouldn't be searched since this was pretty standard merchandise in this part of the galaxy and he made sure to bring money to bribe people in case they started caring. He had to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

He got up from his seat and walked towards the back of the ship pressing the button to lower the ramp at the back, the old ship creaked and groaned as it attempted to lower the ramp to then stop mid way with a thud...... Belizarius gave a sigh "typical"
 


Edited by Belizarius Krusi, 11 February 2018 - 09:36 PM.

There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge

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Weapon/Ship


#5
Iona Immarya

Iona Immarya

    That One Padawan

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Location || Ziugen - Cattle Processing Center

 

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The damp, dim rooms were filled with suffering, sentient and otherwise. Groups of people huddled together for warmth, their bodies, a mix of plush and malnourished, huddled together for warmth and protection as they resorted to their most basic of animal instincts. The stone floors were covered in filth and none of the occupants wanted to think of where, exactly it consisted of, but the smell of the room, the smell of sweat, fear and filth told them all they needed to know. Strong bars lined the ends of the room, a blue shield buzzing faintly in front of each 'room' filled with its sentient cattle, its soft hum only occasionally interrupted by a faint whimper before something, or someone, shushed them. None of the huddled cattle wanted to make noise, for just beyond the bars the predators lurked, the cruel masters who watched them with hawk eyes waiting for the slightest excuse to indulge themselves in their flesh, to bring lash, shock and fire to draw out the squeels and shrieks of pain that told them the tale of a job well done. 

 

At the center of one of these filth encrusted rooms stood a woman, who almost looked at home in the tattered clothes that barely clung to her body, her right hand a mass of onyx shaded metal, a cybernetic arm that ran all the way up past her shoulder and to her spine. Her fiery red hair ran wild around her head as if unused to such freedom, a precious commodity in this place, and was determined to make the most of it, her pale skin sprinkled with numerous freckles a stark contrast to the crimson locks and startling azure eyes that glared at the guards with a mixture of contempt and anger, the mechanical hand clenched and relaxed, the servos in the arm giving off a soft whine, a voice to the impatience swirling in the young woman. The only thing that was similar between the woman and the huddled figures around her was the bulky, grey collar around her neck, the symbol of their enslavement, greater then the bars or the guards, intimate and potent symbolizism designed to keep the cattle demure. 

 

But it would not last. It never did. All that live, all that think, all that feel, long for freedom. Long for safety. Long for love. Long for acceptance. Anything that attempted to crush those feelings were destined for failure for no matter how great the despair, hope never dies. 

 

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Iona glared at the overweight guard who had taken great pleasure in locking a woman in a separate cage from her daughter who, even now, was trying to reach through the bars to embrace her terrified child. Iona knew why they did it. It went beyond mere cruelty. They seperated all who were family or friends, it helped reduce the desire to escape as most did not want to leave their loved ones behind and so would risk staying behind or making more elaborate plans, plans more likely to fail, some, the fear of the unknown fate of what may befall their loved ones was enough to press them down into subservience. 

 

As she glared, her mind went over the plan, rolled it over in her mind... after she had been told it again since she hadn't bothered to read the full briefing. The task force had been split, a small group was sent in to be captured and sold as slaves, they would inspire the other slaves, guide them when the time came and prepare them for battle. The larger team, the liberators, would come in hot with supplies to arm the freed slaves and overwhelm the slavers who had long cast them down. Why she had been chosen as one of the infiltrators was beyond her as she was not suited for this kind of thing, but they said they needed a 'luxury product' as an infiltrator and she had no idea why that would mean her. They didn't know she was a Jedi, so Iona had assumed she had been chosen because her cybernetics made her a bit different from most. The infiltration team would have to endure, ignore the suffering, bear the pain for that moment, when, and if, it ever came, to rise up and patience had never been a virtue. 

 

Her blue eyes jumped to the ohers in her room, a mixture of races, ages and sexes. They had not been separated yet. But they would soon. Broken up into 'categories' determined by their appearance, age, race and physical fitness which would help them gauge the price. The ones the slavers believed could be sold for more profit would be 'cleaned' and 'dolled' up and sent to a VIP auction, the mid-tier, usually decently attractive cattle and those suited for manual labor would be sent to a general auction and sold off across the galaxy, and, finally, the final, and lowest, tier would sold in bulk as menial slaves. She fully expected to end up as a laborer somewhere which suited her fine. 

 

She winced as she turned too fast, the dirt starting to work its way into her cybernetics which, even on the best of days, caused her pain and discomfort as they had never, and would never, properly integrate with her nervous system, but as she hadn't been able to maintain it, it had gotten worse then normal. constant pinpricks of pain stabbed at her mind and down her spine becoming a wave of hot, searing pain when she moved too fast, but she endured for there were others here... Others that were far worse off then she. Some that hadn't eaten in days, perhaps longer. 

 

The sharp crack of a whip echoed through the cells as a new guard entered, a thin man. a Zabark, walked in his shadow, from his clothes, Iona knew he was one of the 'higher' ranked slavers on the planet, probably the one who would overseer the separation and distribution of the newest shipment of 'cattle'. They stopped to peer into the other cell, a man was holding his wife's hand through the bars as the overweight guard from before tapped on the bars with his shock baton, "Don't worry, meat, I'll take care of her for you."

 

Iona wasn't able to stop herself as she gripped the bars of her cell, "Get away from them you kraking hutt-spawned sleemo!" 

 

The guard turned to look at her and smiled, or, well, it might have been a smile, it had more holes then a Hutt's ethics policy. "Got a bit of fire in you don't you," he said, sauntering over, making sure to adjust the front of his pants as he said so, "I like the red heads, I think you just need some breaking in..."

 

"I really don't have all day, I got places to be," Iona said and gave the man an exaggerated roll of her eyes to undermine his authority, the button she knew would drive him over the edge, "If you're going to do it, do it. Don't talk about it unless you need some," she paused to make a crude gesture, "Magic pills to get it up?" 

 

The guard flushed, his hands trembling, but it was his fault. If he wanted to throw barbed words, he shouldn't do it to a street rat. Whatever thought process he had were overwhelmed by his anger as he leapt at the bars, before he could act, Iona's right hand shot out, gripped the man by the back of his head. The guard's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to push away, but the cybernetic arm was far stonger and with far more pleasure then she would ever admit, she pulled his head into the metal bar, a satisfying dull, metallic clang echoing through the room.. and then she did it again. And again.

 

From the corner of her eye, she could see the other slaves staring in befuddled wonderment at the sight, but more then that, she could see the thin zabrak man reach into his robes and pull out a small device, he turned a dial and with a press of a button, her world exploded in white. An electric surge erupted from the collar, traveling down her mechanical spine and through her body, but the cybernetics, which were already faulty to begin with now erupted, tearing apart her nervous system. She hit the ground, her body thrashing and contorting in ways the human body was never meant to as it tried to tear itself apart. She heard a loud, ear piercing scream and Iona realized it was her. Before her world, mercifully, went black, she heard a nasally voice say something about, 'Not damaging it. It had value,' as her mind drifted into the darkness and away from the pain. 


Edited by Iona Immarya, 11 February 2018 - 05:09 AM.

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#6
BD-57

BD-57

    Roger Roger

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Operation: Chainbreaker

Objective Two: Create a Slave Revolt

Location: Ziugen - Docks

 

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Infiltration planetside had been a simple enough feat, given the heavy traffic that flowed to and from the slaver world due to the ‘goods’ this particular piece of Hutt rock provided to the galaxy. Enslavement of fleshy creatures of all shapes and sizes. That was the short of the short of it from the briefing that had been downloaded to BD-57’s memory banks. There was plenty more to process over of course. Things that would have certainly been considered important such as the official roster of the friendly Republic forces being deployed, the number and locations of the weapons that were to be deployed to the freed fleshlings, so on and so forth. Unfortunately for BD’s core processing unit, such a large file was taking its sweet time to render. Such was the result of an outdated processor in an outdated droid. But! BD’s primary functions were still within acceptable parameters for duty. Thanks to that targeting computer of his this droid could hit every shot from twenty yards one hundred percent of the time...twenty percent of the time. Numbers that would leave stormtroopers green with envy.

 

Being planet side brought new difficulties for infiltration. Stealth and subtlety were to be key for the first parts of it. Until all hell broke loose and blasters could blindly be fired at the enemy positions.This operation was a far cry from the simplicity of storming a designated target with wave after wave of battle droid until through sheer attrition was the position claimed. Those tactics were buried deep into BD’s core programming, even with the recent updates that highlighted the advantages of small squad tactics in capturing objectives...without a field of broken soldiers behind them.

 

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There was simplicity to the plan. Give the fleshy creatures being dominated by the bigger fleshy creatures weapons and let the battle ensue. There were two problems to this. One, finding a means to deliver the weapons themselves. BD’s maximum weight carrying capacity was about three blaster rifles. Certainly not the powerhouse of this operation. The second issue at hand was linking up with the smaller group who had forged ahead and infiltrated the slave dens...wherever those were. Their location was likely to be found somewhere in the briefing report. Which, as the droid’s HUD highlighted, was stuck at seventy-eight percent for the last five minutes. The risk of needing to forcibly restart his systems to complete it was hastily becoming more likely and...there it was! Seventy nine percent! Only twenty-one more to go.

 

Plenty of time for BD to scout out a means of transportation for their weapons shipments. The docks were full of potential for this. Speeders used to transport the slaves around here and there were as plentiful as flies on a Hutt. The problem was, how to impound one of these in name of the Republic. That was unless one of the friendlies with the weapons shipments themselves had arrived and carried with them a better idea. Sending a ping across the comm frequency used by the Republic forces on Ziugen, robotic chattering was broadcast over it.

 

“BD-57 checking in! Uhh...have our shipments landed yet? We need to get these slaves their blasters! Or clubs. Or..."

 

​Yep. The part of the briefing with the weapon itinerary had yet to be loaded yet as well.

 

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#7
Zek Koth

Zek Koth

    Spectre Leader

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Spectre Squadron

Allies: Kasari Xesh

 

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Hyperspace blew by outside with barely any recognition from Zek. He sat comfortably within his StealthE, waiting for the expected forced reversion to come. Tisht was the objective, but intelligence had indicated that the hyperspace routes to the world were blockaded by small hutt fleets, including interdiction craft. Before they'd entered hyperspace, the squadron had entered black mode on their fighters, and had been told that allied fighter craft would be making their way to the world via the other hyperspace lane. Likely they would encounter the same measures of protection as Spectre squadron, but he anticipated that they'd be just as competent and capable of handling the situation as he knew the Spectre's were.

 

Adjusting the helmet of his flightsuit just a bit, he reached back for the controls of the fighter and felt out with the Force. Moving with him was the rest of the squadron. Each one of them had a presence in the Force that he was able to track even in hyperspace thanks to their proximity. They were all there, ready to face the coming fight. Only a couple of them were slightly overeager. The new recruits to the squadron. They weren't green pilots, but flying with a prestigious squadron had its own effects on people.

 

As expected, they were soon sucked out of hyperspace. He'd warned the others that it was going to happen. The reversions would be noted, but he doubted they had the capability necessary to detect the fighter squadron that had just dropped out of hyperspace on top of them. Burning TIbannaX, being a matte black color, and running all the anti-detection equipment that the fighters had made them nearly invisible unless you were right on top of them. If anything, it was probable that they would detect it as a false signature once their scanners showed them no ships in the vicinity. They'd discount it because they weren't true military, but just hired thugs and naval officers who had deserted their governments over the years. Freelancers. He snorted at that.

 

Weapons free, he sent to the squadron through the Force. Expend your invisible shots before utilizing the masers.

 

In front of of them was an old interdictor, a couple of fighter squadrons, and three escort corvettes. They floated loosely, save for the fighters. Some of them were on patrol, the others were poised in front of the ships, ready to streak in and attack anything that popped out of hyperspace on top of them. Zek smirked at their fortune. They were going to do some serious damage in this fray. Definitely something to write home about for some of them. He didn't have anyone to write to, and didn't care enough to do so. He just wanted to kill. Kill them all. Pushing his engines to full throttle, he streaked off to the left, knowing Kasari would follow him, and aimed for a pair of fighters on patrol. The left one was his, the right was hers. He made sure only the RLC-1's were active, and then fired when he had the enemy Ugly in his cross hairs. It exploded in a fireball, clearly lacking shields, and a shadow passed through it as he flew through the explosion.

 

Scratch one. Spectre was in business.


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#8
Sav Elko

Sav Elko

    Bacta Princess

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Savannah was definitely doing what she could to learn from others. She was helping as many people as she physically could, and making sure she was doing it properly, going through the right channels, working with any number of Jedi groups. Her training may not be the most consistent, but Coren was pushing her into the Jedi thought more than he ever existed in it. Sure, this was the Jedi Master who had held off dark siders during the fight on Dagobah with Force Light, a massively powerful power for the Jedi.

 

The blonde alchemist of the New Jedi Order was sent out to help deal with Hutts. She was a bit lost because she hadn’t worked with the Republic Remnant so much, but now she was hoping to do a lot of good. Pay the Remnant back for the assistance they provided her government, the Alliance. She had taken a ship, one of the shuttles that was set up for Jedi to the world of Nar Haaska. She was linking up with the Remnant forces but using her unique skills in alchemy, and psychometry to do what she could to end the smuggling of illicit goods.

 

Touching down, she checked the status of her light armor, a modification of the Vanguard Armor that was the future of an old Levantine armor. She had a dark blue cloak over the armor and was hoping it would keep her covered. And until she got word to the Remnant, which one of her comrades was doing…

 

She was going to make her way into the town and scout it out.

 

Alexandra Feanor



#9
Jaster of Clan Awaud

Jaster of Clan Awaud

    Nomadic Mandalorian

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Objective: Passify Criminal Activity in Sector

Location: Exiting Orbit over Nar Haaska

Mission is a Go

 

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The Fleet for the invasion of Nar Haaska and the surrounding planets had just arrived over the Planet. Jaster stood in the Hanger Bay of his Flagship that was now fully staffed with Republic Naval Personal as well as Troopers who were ready for any gangster to give them trouble. He assembled a small Invasion Fleet that was to arrest any corrupt Individual that was ousted by a personal Intelligent Agents of the Shadow Legion who he embedded in all Criminal Worlds in Hutt Space. He did not let this information slid to the Republic Intelligence Agencies as he still felt they were corruptible in their young years as an intelligence service. He spend large sums of money to keep these agents working as gangsters and info brokers in the outer rim of the Hutt Space. These agents were payed to keep his merchant fleet informed on possible raids on shipments to and from Commenor as well as along the Mara Corridor. The Fall of the Black Suns and constant revival of the CIS made this Hyper-Lane less secure then the others. These Turn-coats of criminal background were everywhere if you looked hard enough and Jaster knew them all. He visited these Casinos and Slave Markets for personal reason or another, now though, he regraded these decisions of his past.

 

The senate authorized him along with the 91st Exploration Fleet to deal with the Hutt Cartel Presence in this part of the System. Declaring war on the Hutt Cartel was always bad business, however, Jaster had no problem gutting the overgrown Slugs himself. Several Hutts were overdue for a personal visit by himself. So he stood in the Hanger Bay with a smile behind his Containment Helmet.

 

The 1st Republic Sector Army was ready for its deployment to an Invasion. They had spent the last 3 month after being turned from the Volunteer Militia to full fledged Troopers of the Republic. He now had a full Invasion Force at the ready to issue a blockade of the Planet and begin the transition of the planet from a Criminal Hideout to a Full Democratic Member of the Republic. The soldiers of the New Republic Remnants stood at the ready as they awaited to board both their Gunship Transports as well as their Cruiser Transports. This was the his first order from the Senate, he would not fail their trust in him to head to this massive Arrest Operation. Again they ordered him to arrest as many officials and leaders as he could, all troopers were given the order to only shoot when fired upon. 

 

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Jaster and the Invasion Fleet was now entering Orbit of the Planet. Several Vessels that tried to flee where already apprehended, captains arrested, crew confined to ship, and cargo awaiting inspection. All other ships either were able to escape or returned to the planet to try and hold out somewhere. However, the Republic was here to stay.

 

The General got a communication from Rear Admiral Zinkocif, new fleet admiral of the 1st Sector Army Fleet. "General, your contact from the surface is ready to speak with you."

 

Jaster nodded and a Large Stormtrooper wearing a cap and odd head ordainment appeared on the holo-projector in front of him. This was High General Stricken, Leader of the Shadow Legionnaires that were his contact on the planet. "Viceroy Awaud, we have gathered all the small player on the planet in a meeting, we have sent the coordinates to the Admiral, we surrender to the Republic."

 

Jaster had the transmission ended. This only left the Lieutenants of the Hutt Clan and the leading Hutt in charge of this planet. After arresting that individual, the data provided by them would prove invaluable. Arrest were his main concern, other troopers or Jedi would have to deal with the Hutt itself, the small fry were not to escape the justice of the Republic as well. He ordered his troops to depart the fleet and land on the planet and begin arresting all known corrupt officials, including: Police Officer, Local Office Holders, as well as Shop Owners who sold Republic Black Market Items. Warnings and Names would be collected and sent to the Republic Intelligence Agencies to be archived for later and new Outpost and Roadblocks would be issued till a Democratically elected Official could be placed in office.

 

Orbiting Blockading Fleet:

 

Ground Forces Avalible:


Edited by Jaster of Clan Awaud, 11 February 2018 - 08:03 PM.


#10
Kasari Xesh

Kasari Xesh

    "Red"

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OBJECTIVE THREE
Spectre Squadron
Allies: Zek Koth

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The StealthX handled beautifully in the Sith Pureblood's opinion. Kasari was more used to flying her personal Eta-2, but this baby would be a close second. She had arrived with the rest of Spectre Squadron, staying in close formation with Zek. She felt rather honored this fledgling Republic successor state both welcomed her kind and found her skills as a pilot worthy enough to fly in such a prestigous squadron.

As Koth zoomed off to take down one of the Uglies, she followed and targeted the right leaning enemy fighter. The crosshair alligned and she fired her invisible shot. Bullseye. Dodging the resulting inferno, she formed back up alongside Spectre One. She took a quick observation of the enemy ships abound.

"Spook, this is Wraith." She thought really hard, hoping Zek could pick it up, "What's our move? I think those fighter patrols need to be thinned. Over?"

She had found it odd to have to converse with Zek, when he could beam information into her mind with his Force wizardry. It was a discomforting reminder of her days as a child, born with the red mark of Korriban but being unable to manipulate the Force. She shook her head and focused herself back on the mission.

The secretive world of Tisht was one thst had brought her own curiousity. What was exactly so important that the Hutts barred most people from setting foot there?

Whatever it was, like thieves in the night, Spectre Squadron was going to swipe it from under the Hutts' noses.

Edited by Kasari Xesh, 11 February 2018 - 09:17 PM.


#11
Joshua Tucker

Joshua Tucker

    Admiral of the Remnant 91st Expeditionary Fleet

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Bridge of the RNV Iviin'yc

Objective #1 - Exiting Hyperspace on the edge of the Nar Haaska System

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Tucker tapped his foot. Any moment now.. 

 

The 91st had been recalled from its task of establishing listening posts out near Glottal in order to assist in an operation. If done properly, the separate task forces would almost completely neutralize the hutt's influence in this region, and they would deal a serious blow to criminal activities in Wild Space as a whole.

 

The stars in the Iviin'yc's view port began slowing down and returning to their normal position as the corvette fell out of hyperspace.The command ship seemed to have arrived last, as the fleet was already in its formation when he looked out the main viewport.

 

The 91st was formed in a triangle formation, with one of the Vencuyot frigates positioned in the front and center, followed by another Vencuyot and a Repentance-class corvette behind it, the Iviin'yc and two other Repentances formed a third row, and he couldn't see it, but he knew the Agincourt would be positioned behind the screen of three corvettes - and a quick glance at the sensor contacts confirmed this.

 

However, the sensor readout also showed something else, there was another fleet on intercept course, and none of the ships in it were displaying Republic Remnant IFF tags. Without wasting a second, Joshua snapped into what Vaun called 'osik-hitting-fan-mode', "Comm, tell the Agincourt tov launch all gunships. Set the rest of the fleet on red alert and have the vessels position themselves between the unknown contacts and our gunships heading for Nar Haaska." 

 

 

91st Expeditionary Fleet:


Edited by Joshua Tucker, 12 February 2018 - 11:25 PM.

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#12
Thaaros Klopp

Thaaros Klopp
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Location: Ziugen, Slave Market

Objective Two

 

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Then

 

For once things had gone exactly to plan. The infiltration groups had all been successful and the Slave Markets were now populated by a handful of Remnant agents. They would soon lead the slaves in rebellion against their Hutt overlords. Those who had been selected for this task had a difficult job to do but they had each been chosen for their unique abilities and skills. Captain Thaaros Klopp was not one of these people. He had been sent along as a sort of overseer, somebody to make sure the first part of the mission went off without a hitch and then leave the hard work to those more capable. In truth he suspected that he had been given this role because no one else in the Republic’s Intelligence community wanted to do it. The Naval Intelligence department was not very big, in fact it was just Thaaros and few droids, so when the unpleasant jobs came up he was sent to do them even if they had nothing to do with Naval Intelligence.

 

Thaaros had sent a communication to Republic letting them know that everything had gone to plan, now all he had to do was sit tight and wait for the rest of the Republic’s forces to arrive and extract him. He could hear some commotion going on outside of his room but he paid little attention to it as since he had arrived on Ziugen he had not had a moments peace. There was always someone screaming in the distance and he had managed to zone it out after a few days. However, it was becoming hard to ignore as the noise seemed to be getting closer to him. Then came a bang on the door.

 

“Open up, don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” The voice was not a pleasant one, its owner snarled as they spoke.

 

Thaaros could only sit there and hope that they would move on, his eyes began darting around the room trying to find his blaster. He was never the best shot in the galaxy but it was better than attempting to fight his way out. It was then that the door was blasted open to reveal a Twi’lek standing with a sinister smirk on his face.

 

“Don’t ya know it’s rude to ignore company when it comes callin’?”The smirk on the Twi’lek’s face gave way to scowl, “Get him.”

 

Thaaros made a dive for his blaster as three thugs entered the room and grabbed hold of him. He tried wriggle free but it was no use, Thaaros had never been a particularly intimidating physical specimen and middle age had not improved his physical prowess. As he continued to struggle he thought ‘Why can nothing ever go to plan?’

 

“Why do we want ‘im?” Said the thug now twisting Thaaros’s arm behind his back.

 

“Yeah, he ain’t going to sell for much. He’s all scrawny and old.” Said another one of the trio.

 

“Well gentlemen, thank you for this appraisal but if you do not mind I’ll just go back to my business now.” Thaaros attempted a jovial tone as he kept trying to squirm free.

 

“Oh, a funny one!” The Twilek chuckeled and grabbed Thaaros’s by the neck, “You’ll learn to stop that soon enough. Put him with the rest of ‘em.”   

 

“What do you mean? Where am I going? Who are you?” Thaaros had managed to slip free and grabbed the Twil’ek’s shoulder.

 

Thaaros did not get the answers to his questions as he felt something hard hit him on the back of the head. ‘Damn’ he thought as everything went black.

 

 

 

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Now

 

The universe was a vast, diverse and fascinating place full of wonderful sights, sounds and smells. Currently Thaaros was in a complete darkness, there was a smell of raw sewage and the air was filled with the sounds of living misery. Overall it was not biggest change from the small room he had been holed up in but he wished he could see where he was. Suddenly he was struck by a sense of panic as the memory of what had happened came back to him and he groaned at the throbbing sensation in his head.

 

“Rise and shine mister.” It was the voice of a child.

 

Then Thaaros was blinded by what felt like the light of a thousand stars as the sack that was on his head was taken off. “Where am I?” he groaned.

 

“You’re here.” The same young voice answered.

 

“Oh well then that explains it all.” Thaaros attempted to shrug and roll his eyes but that just increased the pain radiating around his head, “Where is here?” he was beginning to regain his sight and he could see the blurred face of the child just in front of his own.

 

“The market. Don’t you know anything mister?” It was a small Rodian boy that was speaking.

 

‘Apparently not.’ Thought Thaaros as he struggled to his feet. He looked around and was greeted by dozens of people, of all species and ages, these were the people creating the sounds of misery that echoed all around him. “How did I get here?” Thaaros asked the boy.

 

“The snatchers brought you here. They get all kinds of people and bring them here. They brought me and my mom. . .” His voice trailed off.

 

Captain Thaaros Klopp had just successfully infiltrated the Hutt slave market on Ziugen, he had done what it had taken the others days and weeks to complete. Amongst the immense feelings of terror that were swelling within him, there was also a slight feeling a pride. Who would have thought that after thirty years military experience managing to stay on the sidelines, he would end up on the frontlines entirely due to his own incompetence? Thaaros began to feel very queasy as the true enormity of his current situation hit him. Looking down he could see that the little Rodian boy was still stood next to him.

 

“Where is your mom?” Thaaros asked.

 

“They took her. . . probably sold her by now.” The little one looked off into the distance, despite his obvious sadness there was a sense determination in his voice.

 

Thaaros tapped the boy on the shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring but he did not think that it had worked. He was met by the sudden realisation that his only chance of survival at this point was to follow the orders that had been given to all of those who were actually meant to be posing as slaves. This did not fill him with the confidence that he so desperately needed. Though he did find some relief in the thought that there may be other members of the Republic nearby.

 

“This is going to be a disaster.” Thaaros rubbed his still throbbing head as he spoke.

 

“You’re weird.” Replied Rodian boy.

 

A smile broke out on to Thaaros’s face as he thought, ‘What the hell am I going to do now?’  


Edited by Thaaros Klopp, 12 February 2018 - 01:26 PM.

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#13
Iona Immarya

Iona Immarya

    That One Padawan

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Location || Ziugen - ???

 

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Iona let out a soft moan as her eyes fluttered open, her vision was blurred, and her mind was too groggy to want to put the pieces together, so instead, she lay there one something incredibly soft. It felt like she was floating on a cloud or something. She stretched her body out, enjoy the way her muscles pulled and flexed as she coiled on the soft surface like a newborn kitten. Iona let out another groan of satisfaction as her senses marveled at the texture, the silken textile, cool to the touch was such a relief upon her sore body and the comparison with the hard mats of the Jedi Temple were like night and day. As her vision started to clear, and the white marble ceiling became more focused, her smile slid its way off her smile as, like a lightning bolt, realization of where she was and what had happened struck through her. 

 

She shot up and looked around her. It was covered in expensive white marble, even the walls were of the same material. A dresser with a large mirror and, what she can only assume, was a wardrobe sat imposingly, made of some kind of wood, although she had no idea what it was. Numerous pictures hung on the wall, some were simple landscapes, other a mixture of colors and shapes that she had no idea as to what they were supposed to represent and doubted the artist did either and others were... ghoulish. Depictions of suffering, of bloody hands climbing a dark wall, of people fleeing from an unknown terror. The white, heavenly, bed she was sitting in was not nearly as inviting as it had been minutes before. Her hand came up to her throat and she winced when she felt the bulky metal collar that had brought so much agony awhile ago. 

 

She wasn't in the pens anymore, and more then that, Iona had no idea why she was there. This place... Why would anyone bring a slave to a place like this? This, morbid as it was, was somewhere nice. Only the filthy rich could be such bad decorators. With a long breath to gather her nerves, Iona swung her legs off the bed but hesitated in getting up. This bed truly was wonderful, as awful as everything was, she almost regretted leaving and, after this horrible thing was all said and done, she was going to put in some request to get this thing back... If it was ever all said and done.

 

The soft swoosh of the door opening snapped her eyes to the door and she shot out of bed, sinking into a basic combat stance as she glared at the darkness... until a small, elderly woman came through. A plain white dress and a shock collar, noticeably slimmer and had precious metals running through it and a bag held in her left hand. When the old woman spotted her, a large smile spread across her face and her eyes twinkled, "You're awake!"

 

"Uh..." Was all Iona could get out her mouth as her mind struggled to make sense of what was going on, "Who are you? What am I doing here?"

 

"Oh, sweetie, they did a number on you didn't they?" the woman said, advancing on her, "I'm Nancy, and you, my dear, are in what we call the 'prep' room," the almost gleeful tone she had when she said it made her hairs stand on end.

 

"Prep for what?" Iona asked knowing she was going to like the answer.

 

"For your debut, silly," Nancy said and gave Iona a smile so wide Iona was sure her mouth was going to split in half, and to punctuate her word, the old woman pulled out a shimmering emerald dress. Iona noted how thin the straps were, the horridly uncomfortable looking torture devices some other women would call shoes still in the bag and said the only thing that came to mind, "Oh Kark.." 


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#14
Mereel Vaun

Mereel Vaun

    Exiled Heir of Clan Vaun

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Location: RNV Agincourt main hangar bay

Objective One: Liberate Nar Haaska

Current Objective: Bum a Ride

 

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The Mandalorian chant abruptly halted as the Agincourt dropped out of hyperspace. Soldiers redonned their helmets and rapidly scrambled in all directions, running off to find their respective squadrons in the sea of RRATD gunships. Mereel calmly slipped his own helmet back over his head, and his HUD booted up. He began looking around the hangar for a gunship with the numbers 73-9 inscribed near the cockpit. After looking around for about half a minute, he finally located it and began running to the gunship.

 

As he ran, he connected his HUD to one of Convor company's squadrons: Shanty squad - if memory served him correctly.

 

The vitals of ten men popped onto his HUD display as his helmet interlinked with the readouts of the squadron. The heart rates of ten men was a lot to keep track of, so Mereel decided to limit himself to seeing the vitals of Shanty squadron's fire-team bravo. The bottom right side of his vision was now filled with text readouts:

 

Shanty Squad, Fireteam Bravo

 

Macintosh: Steady

Tetre: Steady

Chiron: Steady

Alice: Steady

Doyle: Steady

 

Mereel clambered into the RRATD's troop bay and spoke up over the troops who were already seated and talking amongst each other, "Which of you lot are Shanty Fireteam Bravo?"

 

"Over here, mando!"

 

Mereel followed the voice to its source, finding five men standing around in a circle in front of an IFV. "You have armor assigned for dealing with a spice warehouse?"

 

One of the helmeted soldiers just grunted, another with a rifle responded, "Supposedly it's heavily defended. How'd you know to find us on this ship?"

 

"I made friends with the Lieutenant Colonel, told me this dropship was assigned to blowing up a spice warehouse, and I wanted in." 

 

This drew a visible reaction from one of the soldiers, "You planning on getting your fix or something? If that's the case, get out n-"

 

Mereel raised a hand and cut the man short, "No, nothing like that. My father's a spice trader, I take every opportunity I can get to destroy the stuff."

 

He walked over to a seat and strapped himself in."Look, we don't even have to be on the same commfrequency if you don't want. Just think of my like you would a freelancer or a Jedi, separate and out of the command chain, but on the same side."

 

He didn't tell them that he was actually a member of the Order. There was no need for it, and if they were dealing with spice runners here.. he would rather be remembered as a ruthless mando than a ruthless Jedi. He slammed a fresh power cell into his Westar M5 V2 and waited for the gunship to take off. 


Edited by Mereel Vaun, 13 February 2018 - 12:53 AM.

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Armor | Blasters | Ships


#15
Zek Koth

Zek Koth

    Spectre Leader

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1a21d6f78d40d4fb4751d391f97d462e-dc2rwlg

Spectre Squadron

Allies: Kasari Xesh


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Agreed, he sent back to Kasari after detecting her thoughts. If we take out the fighters then we can neutralize the big ships with ease.

He banked hard to the right, drawing his fighter around in the direction of the next patrol. Other fighters had gone up in flames now, and word was spreading among the enemy. Fighters began flying erratically, dipping and juking like the pilots were trying to avoid something that they couldn't see. Sure it made them a little harder to target when they were doing that, but ultimately it wasnt going to save them from being destroyed.

The next enemy fell into place and he popped off a shot that lanced a pylon from the craft and sent it spinning out of control off into the darkness where it would never be recovered. It was slightly disappointing not to be rewarded with an explosion, but he moved on to the next for without batting an eyelash. There were plenty more foes for him to kill. Besides, the pilot if that fighter would die a slow, miserable death. He thought that fitting for a Hutt lover.

He did a quick check to make sure that the rest of the squadron was doing alright. Nobody seemed out of sorts, or missing, so he figured the Hutt lovers hadn't quite figured out how to track the crafts that were killing them. Of course the result of that fact was the larger ships opening fire in random directions with their turbolasers. That certainly made everything much more dangerous than it had been moments before.

Everyone scramble, he sent through the Force. Break off your pairs and fly solo. Watch your shooting lanes and be wary if the big ships. When the fighters are mopped up regroup.

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#16
Belizarius Krusi

Belizarius Krusi

    Jedi Scholar

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Location: Spaceport outside slave markets, orbiting Ziugen

Objective Two: Create a slave revolt on Ziugen

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"Oh come on!!!" Belizarius said throwing the spanner at a circuit box that seemed to be working just fine. He had checked the computer, mechanics and everything related to the doors but they still stood half open. He could exit because he had around 1000 blasters from pistols to rifles in those crates and they couldn't just be left out.

He kept meaning to one day go over this ship and give it a proper tune up. He was so used to being out and about that he never really had time to do anything but patch it up. He could use the force to shut the door but for starters he would have to be outside of the ship and that could draw attention to him. Secondly it did have a working lock so once closed if that decided to work it could be pretty difficult to open without slicing it... literally with his saber.

He went back to the switch and tried again, he heard the groan of the motor and the door struggling. That would suggest that something was jamming it but he had already checked everything! what else could possibly be blocking the damn door!

He couldn't keep wasting time on this since he needed to keep relatively near the slave markets to get an idea of how this uprising would work. In his frustration he walked onto the door and stomped his foot down using the force to give it extra strength. He heard everything on the ship shake and then the motor start up with the ramp going down the entire way... he really needed to put some money into fixing this ship.

He opened a panel on the back and inserted a card then pulled a small lever next to it which sent the ramp back up again. Finally he started making his way to the slave markets, when he heard from BD-57 he responded on the communicator "I have around 1000 different types of blasters on my ship currently, after I visit the markets I am going to try and see what I can do to sabotage security a little in this area so it will take time for them to respond to an uprising" his main goal now was to get a feel for the city and find weaknesses to exploit. 



Iona ImmaryaThaaros Klopp

 


There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge

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#17
Jaster of Clan Awaud

Jaster of Clan Awaud

    Nomadic Mandalorian

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Objective: Passify Criminal Activity in Sector

Location: Exiting Orbit over Nar Haaska

Mission is a Go


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Jaster knew that the Expeditionary Fleet was to accompany him. His IFF codes were switched off early in combat to keep the planet in the dark of their arrival. With the soldiers landing on the planet it was no longer needed, as soon as weapons became hot on the Allied Fleet, the Read Admiral told his deck officers to send over the needed IFF Codes as well as Jasters Personal Autherization Code. Even Jaster could look outside the Vibrating Force Feilds and could see the colorization and organized Fleet of Mereel Vaun and Joshua Tucker. He turned to his Holo-Droid and opened a channel to the Captain of the Iviin'yc. "Captian Tucker, apologies about the Tags, we planned on having the space cleared before your arrival, Im heading to the planets surface now to arrest the Planetary Chief of Police on grounds of Corruption and Excesory to Murder, will you be accompany us on the ground?"

Jaster did have to drop a little information before receiving the answer from the Captain, "There was also a coded message that we received from the planet with Jedi Codes attached," He waved his hands in the Hologram and the data was sent over, "Protocal with the Jedi is that a Jedi knight or higher is only allowed to read its content, hand it over to Vaun would you, I hope to see him on the Ground." The Message was from Alexandra Feanor, but not being apart of the Order, Jaster was restricted in seeing its contents, slicing it would be too long so he decided to hand it over. Originally this was a government sponcered Invasion, the order wasn't going to send Jedi. Jaster was pretty surprised to see a message, Force Users were people he was never really goin to get use to, secrete as they were, Vaun was a good one though, he knew the Mando would keep him in the loop and ask for help if needed.

#18
Thaaros Klopp

Thaaros Klopp
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Location: Ziugen, Slave Market

Objective 2

 

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Since his unexpected enslavement Thaaros had learned a few things about life that he had previously not realized. He had learned that life persists even in the most desperate of circumstances, that even in such misery people refused to give up hoping that things might get better and most importantly he realised that Rodian children were very rarely quiet. At least this particular Roadian child had a problem with silence, Thaaros had learned that his name was Ryn. The young boy had been separated from his mother a few days ago after arriving at the Slave Market, before this they had been travelling on a refugee ship that had been raided by slavers. There were similar stories from most of the other people in the room.

 

“You think we will be here for much longer?” Ryn had asked that question several times already but his voice had not yet lost its optimism.

 

“I don’t know, I’m not even sure why we are here.” Thaaros did not share the young one’s optimism.

 

Almost everyone else being held in the same Pen as Thaaros fell into one of two groups; they were either slightly past their physical prime, like Thaaros; or they were children. He could not quite put his finger on why but it was making him feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He had read the data briefings on the Hutt Slave Markets and had heard enough of the gruesome stories to know that they were in a desperate situation. To the Hutts the slaves only had a monetary value, if they could not work they were worthless and what work could those around him do? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

 

“It won’t be long now.” The voice emanated from behind Thaaros, as he turned to look he saw an elderly woman slouched against the back wall of the Holding Pen.

 

“What won’t be long?” Asked Thaaros.

 

“The auction. Our time to shine!” She replied feigning a laugh and revealing a near toothless grin. “If we’re lucky there won’t be much else on the market.”

 

Someone else in the pen burst into tears on hearing those words, Thaaros could have quite easily burst into tears himself but he knew better. After all he was meant to be inspiring this group to rebel against their masters, that would not be very likely if he started whimpering like a child. The actual children in the room seemed to be fairing much better than the adults, perhaps ignorance was bliss.

 

“What do you mean, ‘much else on the market.’?” Thaaros stepped towards the woman, on closer inspection she was probably a similar age to him but from a distance she looked so much older.

 

The woman burst out laughing, not a happy or funny laugh more a cry of desperation. “Look at us. Who would want us?” She pointed at herself mockingly, “What use are we? A load of has-beens and whelps.” She laughed again, “We are the bargain basement of the slave market, we are basically talking livestock.”

 

That last remark provoked a few others to start wailing but Thaaros pressed on, “Surely if they wanted us dead they would have just killed us, they must need us for something.”

 

“You sweet innocent fool. You have no idea what they’re capable of. If we are lucky we’ll be used like Convor down a coal mine. If we are unlucky we will be used as food for their pets.” As the crying got louder she turned towards those sobbing and hissed, “Will you shut up!”

 

Thaaros sighed heavily as he looked at all of those around him wondering how he could possibly inspire this group to fight back, they were all so broken. At this precise moment he was not sure that he could bring himself to do anything useful, the whole thing just seemed to hopeless.

 

“Hey mister. . .” Came the familiar voice of Ryn, “You think we’ll be here for much longer?” His voice had not lost its hint of optimism.

 

It was a strange thing for a fifty-year-old man of thirty years Naval experience to be inspired and impressed by a child who he had met just a few hours ago. Nevertheless, Thaaros did find a flush of courage from such an unexpected source. Within moments of Thaaros finding his fighting spirit, a red light began to flash and an alarm began to ring. The door to the Holding Pen unlocked and hissed open.

 

“It’s time.” The unhappy smile left the woman’s face as she too began to softly weep.  


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#19
Kasari Xesh

Kasari Xesh

    "Red"

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OBJECTIVE THREE
Spectre Squadron
Allies: Zek Koth

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Roger that, Spectre One. She thought in return to the scramble order.

She broke off from her pair, flying solo. The random cannon fire made things chaotic. The Pureblood bobbed and weaved her black starfighter through the chaos of battle. Yet, like a predator, she stalked her prey and attacked at the opportune moment. She was able to help thin down some of the Hutt's starfighter patrol, but only a fraction.

Spectres. I'm out of invisible shots. Switching to controlled visible shot. She sent out her thoughts o her fellows.

She banked and turned back into the fray. She targeted another of the starfighters, firing with visible cannons. This was able to do the job as always, but it also attracted more fire from the cannons.

All of sudden I'm popular. If someone would be so kind to start on those cannons, Her mind became sarcastic, even though she was serious.

She darted her StealthE back into the shadows, not firing so that the attention upon her quieted. Was a great rush for an adrenaine addict like herself.

#20
Zek Koth

Zek Koth

    Spectre Leader

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1a21d6f78d40d4fb4751d391f97d462e-dc2rwlg

Spectre Squadron

Allies: Kasari Xesh


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They split off and went through the enemy fighters as if they weren't even there. When he ran out of shots in the stealth canons he switched to his Masers and started lighting up the enemy fighters that way. The squadron was doing well. No losses and the most excited pilots had calmed down and gotten into a rhythm, which was good. He hadn't wanted to tell anyone's parents that their kid was an overeager idiot who got behind the stick.

They weren't done, though. He detected Kasari's message via the Force. Not the exact message, but the feeling. She wasn't completely in a bind, but she felt threatened and he figured that, from the lack of Starfighters, it had to be associated with the interdictor. It was an old model, but it still lacked the standard shield towers of the star destroyers. Instead, they had small bubbles. Still targetable.

Flipping his fighter around, he streaked back towards the interdictor and armed a couple of ProtonX Torpedoes. He switched to single fire so he didn't waste them, and targeted the first of the shield bubbles. Depressing the trigger, a torpedo shot out and flew nearly invisible to the target, striking the shield. Right after it did, he fired several rounds with the Maser and blew the shield projector. One down, one to go.

Kasari, move to the Interdictors rear to hit the engines, he called through the Force to her. The others will target the field generators.

He relayed orders to each person in turn before lining up his second run. Repeating the first run, he popped the other shield generator which made the ship a sitting duck. It was perfect for Kasari, who could make it dead in the water while the rest of the squadron made it useless for interdiction. When he came back around, he targeted the weapons systems, blasting a few of them on his pass. It was easy since they couldn't see where he was until he fired, and he flew in a random pattern, even doubling back.

Kasari watch your six. A Corvette is moving up on you.

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