Invasion As You Know, Our Blockade is Perfectly Legal | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Hex L,

[Armand Temi]

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Enroute to Hex L-49, aboard the Supremacy Class Star Destroyer FIV Reprisal
Objective: Secure the Sector, Destroy Alliance Forces.
Allies in Vicinity: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="HK-42"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Equipment: In Signature

A few months prior...​

Strafing across the landscape, lava rivulets snaking through like bright orange veins, Varas used roggwarts and xandank as practice to become more precise with her ground targets. Firing her laser canons at targets in the sky proved more problematic, and she was forced to use a battle simulator for that endeavor. But she adored being behind the controls of the TIE Silencer she would be piloting during the upcoming naval operation - the smell of the copper and metal, the way the fighter raced and dove and swerved under her command and the sound? The sound was a symphony of metallic screams, only silenced by the pounding of her own heart in her ears and the unadulterated joyful whooping noise when she’d eviscerated a roggwart with laserfire. Perhaps the implanted memory of Thomas, the young TIE pilot in his early days of the First Order would cause her to be a natural at flying.

Yet, that remained to be seen. While a roggwart moved rapidly, it also did not fire back.

​

NOW​

Varas had practically grown up in the First Order. She knew nothing else and was especially cognizant of her father’s hatred for the Galactic Alliance, painfully so. The brunette clone could feel him on the other side of the FIV Reprisal, careful not to disturb his meditation, but concerned for him just the same. His deep loathing and malice both fueled her own hatred, but threatened to distract her as well. And once she was in the cockpit of the Silencer there would be no more interruption. Familiar with the interior of a Star Destroyer from both her parents’ memories, a feeling of deja-vu would not leave her as though she was certain she'd wandered these corridors before. Even a glimpse of the Admiral in his white robes, reminded her of the Kaminoans, the way the aliens moved and titled their heads, wide eyes unblinking. It caused her to shudder and keep her eyes glued to the floor.

As the signal sounded for deployment readiness, Varas, wearing the traditional armor of the Ren, began to rise from her bunk where she’d sat in contemplation, but green-grey eyes lifted to the figure of Kyrel Ren as he entered her room. For some reason, her cheeks colored at the way he so boldly invaded her personal space, her quarters the only intimate sanctuary she had on the Reprisal, but he turned and the pair - father and daughter - walked hastily to the hangar where they’d begin launch preparations. Before they’d reached their destination, Varas did need to ask her father and tutor something that had been on her mind since Panatha. And as usual, she asked in her completely blunt way, not worrying about sounding like a crazy moof-milker.

“I saw… visions on Panatha. They only seemed to occur as I was holding your lightsaber. Am I correct to assume the weapon is the cause of this in some way?” In a softer voice she added, “Images from your past. Disturbing scenes that were so intensely clear it was as if I'd experienced them myself." Clearly distressed by what she’d seen of Thomas Kyrel, his difficult upbringing and subsequent tribulations after Kaeshana, she needed to know if any of it was real or just an illusion generated somehow by the Force.

 

[Ghorumgash Khazund-Veranum]

Location: Hyperspace -> Hex L-49
Objective: A Golden Spear, A Cold Despair
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Zark"]
Enemies: First Order, Sieger Ren | The Slave | Asharad Graush | Cyrus Tregessar | Robogeber | Samka Derith | Morro


Armory, Supercarrier The Itsukusk
Alliance Rearguard, Hex L-49
Galactic Federation of Free Alliances


As the alarm telling the crew to brace for impact blared out through the bowels of the Itsukusk, a terrible name to spell from your memory, in between their loud mechanical shrieks the sound of metal scraping against metal would be heard coming from one of the armories aboard the ship. Inside it one of the Khazund was sitting on a large armor create. The Khazund were called "Space Dwarves" for a reason, they were stout but muscular beings, reminiscent of the ancient tales about small humanoids who were experts in craftsmanship and brutal warfare. Funnily enough the Khazund lived up to these stereotypes, Ghorum was clad in ornate heavy armor, gilded and bronzed for additional aesthetic extravaganza, heavy crimson tattered battle cloak hanged off of his shoulders as he worked a hyper-sharpening tool and run it repeatedly against the blade of his old vibro-axe, creating the metallic sound.

Although his armor was ornate and polished, it was definitely old and well used, at parts the polish and new gilded layer was tarnished, revealing the darkened and age metal layer underneath, other parts still bore the pox-like marks of old blaster bolt scorches, remnants after recent battles the dwarf took part in. Ghorum wasn't exactly keen on fighting, especially not when it placed him in constant danger on the frontlines, and it is not that he was taking part in the upcoming battle because he believed in GA and their cause. He thought that GA and the freedom they brought to people were great, he really did, and the fact that many a significant portion of leading Alliance roles were comprised of non-humans was another plus for the Khazund, but as far as he knew they never done anything for his people specifically. The Alliance was around for years now, yet still his own kin are forced to move from planet to planet as nomads, seeking out a new home.

The reason why Ghorum was taking part in the battle were credits. As much as he wanted to retire, he was running out of funds, not only to keep repairing and polishing his extravagant suit of armor, but also to keep running his clan-ship, the Khazund forge-vessel they were calling their home for millenniums now. Unfortunately the downside of using such ancient ships was that they broke down almost constantly, and since mercenary work often paid well, every able-bodied Khazund had to do their part to support their people. Ghorum had bigger aspirations than just keeping his people alive however, he wanted them to prosper more than they had ever before, and all because of him. So he signed himself up with the GA since Kaeshana, serving them for some time now although pretty much staying in the background. Even now, although his armor was golden, and he was able to use his ancestral axe during battle, he was not much more than a common soldier.

The life wasn't the best for him right now, but he was determined to do his best, raise through the ranks, and earn allies to help his people. He wasn't without his grudges however, as he knew very well who was to blame for their current position,

"Fethin' droid scum-wabblin' crox-chokars."

The Dwarf cursed out and spat on the ground next to the ammo box he was sitting on, probably much to the dismay of anyone who could see him. Just thinking about droids nowadays got the Dwarf all riled up and fuming with pure rage. Legends passed down through generations of Khazund in their ancient Books of Grudges tell stories about how the droids screwed Khazund off and ruined their planet, forcing them on their great pilgrimage to wander through the stars. The fact that recently Khazund came to Denon to speak with the so called Lords of the newly formed Droid Space and seek possible reparations or explanation on their past were turned away by the machines did not help.


Either way, the sound of shields and weapons powering up would bring the Dwarf out of his brooding and snap him back to reality. With a gruff grunt he pushed himself off of his crate and onto his throbbing feet. Grabbing his axe, a heavy blaster, and slipping his helmet onto his head the Dwarf would march out of the armory, satisfied with his preparations for the battle.

It was time to go to work.

 

[Kingsley]

Location: Hyperspace -> Hex L-49
Objective: Die Historic on the Fury Road
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: First Order
Equipment: Blast Vest, Scattergun, Blurg-1120 Hold-Out Blaster, Vibroshiv, Wits

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Cockpit, Washburn-class Medium Transport Greater Fool
Rimma Trade Route
Galactic Alliance

"I'm gonna die," Captain Kingsley groaned, slouching down in the unarmed freighter's pilot seat, "Well Nineteen, we had a good run, rrrawk!"

The Hiitian smuggler was in deep with the wrong people for what seemed like the dozenth time this year, and the only way he could hope to survive the week with all his talons in one piece was to pull off a massive payday. The Lothal Run from Sullust to the Alliance's southern territories was profitable, but not nearly profitable enough on his timeline. Just when the drunken scoundrel had been considering abandoning his old life and fleeing to the Unknown Regions, scattered reports came in over the HoloNet about some sort of massive disturbance to the southern trade lanes.

Which could only mean anyone lucky enough to make it through was looking at some serious credits in the trade starved markets south of Sluis Van. So Kingsley had loaded up his holds with essential merchandise, and hastily recruited a crew. He was no saint, but the captain was more than willing to play the humanitarian if it would help pay off his truly outstanding debts. A few strong hands to help with the loading and who knew their way around a blaster later, and they were blasting off from Sullust.

"You don't really think the First Order would shoot down an unarmed transport, do you?"

Kingsley squawked in annoyed surprise, wheeling around to confront a new member of his crew he had not sought out, but rather the other way around. Saia Jun was an assuming looking young Sullustan woman, who had approached the freighter captain as they had been about to take off looking for a ride of all things. She had eventually shown him her credentials as an employee of the Sullust Central News Network, and was looking for anyone who could get her on site near the heart of the disturbance.

"I think the fething Imps would shoot down their own grandmother if their Supreme Leader ordered them to," Kingsley shook his head, "Shows how much the intrepid reporter knows about how the real galaxy works, rrrawk! Hopefully they'll have bigger problems to worry about than a few merchants looking to make some quick credits and one damn idealistic little girl."

Saia rolled her eyes, and backed out of the cockpit towards the ship's common room.

"You hear me, Sieger?" he mumbled to himself when it was just him and his S19 astromech co-pilot again, "I got bills to pay."

 

[Gir Quee]

Location: Planetary Operations Center, Union-class Assault/Colony Carrier Ocean Tide, somewhere near the L-49 Hex
Allies: Galactic Alliance & friends
Enemies: FO

“They're dead,” deadpanned Gir, “all dead.”

Captain Royce leaned up against the holo-projector's and breathed out a few choice words about a mother of hutt. Gir remained silent, staring at the helmet cam feeds of the Directorate marines as they passed through another corridor littered with charred and bloodied bodies. Deep within the Tide, they were far removed from the carnage on the Starflight. Yet Gir could almost smell the burnt ozone that surely suffused the atmosphere of the ill-fated passenger liner. Royce's face contorted into a snarl that would have seemed more fitting on a feral vornskr.

“There has to be a faster way to catch them.”

The blonde man rapidly typed a few commands into the holo-projector, causing the helmet feeds to fade away as the light coalesced to form a starry map studded with the blinking signals of dispatched drones and light corvettes. Gir eyed several of the dots and considered their proximity to nearby celestial objects.

“Well, based on this discovery, I'd say that Thache and his people are based out two light years from I-336. Maybe even the system itself.”

A frown creased Royce's face, “That's an uninhabited system.”

“Wouldn't that make it the perfect base?”

“There's a strong pulsar there.”

“Ah. I defer to your knowledge on that matter.”

“We need to spread the net out wider,” stated Royce, “maybe he has a faster ship than we think. Or they modified it.”

His tunic's comlink offered a muted chime, causing Gir to tap a button on his headset.

"Yes Hopkins?"

"We're receiving reports of multiple artificial gravity wells appearing in the local systems and routes. Red Three and Four tripped a mass shadow mine. It's off now, and they're fine, but it's clearly not an Alliance operation."

Gir frowned. There's only one other power that has the means to do it here. He could already see their propaganda newsreels in his head, as his mind began to instantly devise different reasons that they would use to justify their assault. But in the end, it mattered not. Whatever reason they chose, they were restarting the war on their own terms. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.

"I think we can safely guess that it's the First Order based on the scale," muttered Gir, turning to face Royce, "I know how much catching Thache means to you. Unfortunately, I think we are being drawn into something larger. But I think we could use your help with this."

The man signed, "As if a murderous assassin droid wasn't enough. But I suppose it's my turn to repay the favor. Lead on."

"Hopkins, meet us in the SOC. We'll be there shortly."

"Aye sir."

Gir spared a glance at the sector ranger as they exited the control room. He liked the man and knew that his knowledge of local space would be invaluable in investigating the First Order's latest actions. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if they were all stepping into something so large that it would overwhelm and devour not only them, but dozens if not hundreds of worlds and their peoples. But Gir had little time to contemplate their possible fates and the horrors that could await them as they entered in the ship's wishing well. Hopkin's gaunt frame was striding everywhere over the artificial starfield, pointing out various signatures to a pair of new officers. From a quick scan of the room, Gir could see that the scattered light corvettes and Sowa-class Drones that had made up their search parties were increasingly being located by angry red dots that soon faded away. Hopkins strolled up to them.

"You can see it here, and here, and here...mines, mines everywhere."

Gir nodded as he watched one of their signatures disappear, "But mines are only a temporary measure. This is either an intentional delay, or a stop-gap measure before something else. Any report of large First Order forces?"

"Not yet."

"We should set out and try to find them," decided Gir, "Keep our scouts moving and our ears down to the ground. Hopkins, I trust that you can manage our ships and drones efficiently enough for this task. Royce, if you would, give him some areas that you'd start looking to stage an attack if you were the First Order."

Hopkins turned towards Royce, "I think we can handle that."

He toggled his headset to the channel he shared with the ship's mon calamari communication's officer, "Lieutenant Nepo, inform General [member="Jyoti Nooran"] back at Sullust about our findings."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Scrounging up what forces I can into something of a battle group."

Impromptu Directorate-Silver Jedi Battle Group Ocean Tide

Spoiler

Union-class Assault/Colony Carrier Ocean Tide
Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser Black Sword
Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser White Mantle
Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser Green Lance
Draken-class Artillery Cruiser Falling Star
Draken-class Artillery Cruiser Starstruck
Draken-class Artillery Cruiser Spectral Scimitar
Protector-class Frigate Fleur de Lys
Protector-class Frigate Rodolphe
Protector-class Frigate Cheval Marin
Protector-class Frigate Flamand
Circinius-class Bulk Corvette Pilgrim
Circinius-class Bulk Corvette Chronos
Circinius-class Bulk Corvette Hannibal
Circinius-class Bulk Corvette Knossos

Directorate / Law Enforcement Task Force
Liberté-class Light Corvette Red One
Liberté-class Light Corvette Red Two
Liberté-class Light Corvette Red Three
Liberté-class Light Corvette Red Four
Liberté-class Light Corvette Blue One
Liberté-class Light Corvette Blue Two
Liberté-class Light Corvette Blue Three
Liberté-class Light Corvette Blue Four
Liberté-class Light Corvette Gold One
Liberté-class Light Corvette Gold Two
Liberté-class Light Corvette Gold Three
Liberté-class Light Corvette Gold Four

Summary of Actions

Spoiler

-Light corvettes and Sowa-class Drones turn from manhunt duties to scouting the broader area of L-49 for FO forces and interdictor fields
-Several mass shadow minefields discovered and set off
-Impromptu battle group begins to form around the Ocean Tide
-Battle Group Ocean Tide begins to relay information back to Silver Jedi around Sullust

 

[Kier Grey]

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Minotaur \\ Assimilator-class Star Destroyer​

Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: Aboard the FIV Minotaur​

In Vicinity/Allies: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Krayn Ren"] | [member="HK-42"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Elensa Jari"] | [member="Vlannem Pox"]​

FN-6767 "Scars"
Hanger, AT-AT Barge, FIV Minotaur Hanger.

Spoiler: Equipment

• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour (Tank Trooper Variant, one-color white passive camouflage)
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs
• G-11F Blaster Rifle

​

FN-6767 walks towards the Hanger's exit and spots some diminutive pilot strolling in her direction; likely looking to speak to the Loadmaster she thought but then some inane question comes from his mouth one that forces FN-6767 meets with a pause both of step and thought she regards him behind helmet's visor with contempt for a moment before answering what in her belief was a foolish question. "No, I'm a Commander." FN-6767 folds her arms across breastplate mildly irritated by the man's oafish haphazard presentation betraying his status to the Lance Corporal that he was at the least not an Infant recruit who had trained their whole life for the role, this inefficiency, and open recruitment would steadily kill the First Imperial Military's fearsome reputation atleast in her mind or perhaps it was a primal fear of the unknown, of replacement. "Which means I've also got gunnery training and experience, what's it to you, pilot?" FN-6767's gaze shifts from the Pilot to the Hanger's entrance again and intensely longs to be free of the swabbies to land back in the company of real Soldiers; real Stormtroopers. Scars' rhythmically beats her foot on the hanger floor belligerently with the Pilot keeping arms folded across breastplate. "Well spit it out then, we haven't got all day Panelhead." 'Panelhead' a pejorative name used to describe TIE fighter panels; named after the Solar panels which is popularly believed by the Stormtroopers to provide the craft's propulsion along with their shrieking Ion Engines.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

[Edited out.]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Location: Aboard a Liberte
Objective: Battle Meditation, Bolster the GA Fleet
Allies: [member="Mirax Eygan"], [member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Lysandra"] (?), Allyson, [member="Zark"]
Enemies: [member="The Slave"], [member="Arken Lussk"]

Requests for peace had been insulted. Outstretched olive branches were slapped away. The Imperials, in all their self-righteous arrogance, had elected to take the accords as an insult. Were Cedric an ignorant man, he would have attributed their chosen stance to their insecurities, but Cedric knew better.

The imperials needed an excuse to continue their conquest. They knew they were the morally bankrupt of the contenders, and so they needed to fabricate lies to motivate their citizenry. It was for that very reason that the Jedi Knight meditated now at the helm of a Liberte corvette, awaiting the order to charge the blockade at any given time.

The silence that had become Cedric's reality was torn asunder by a shift within the force. The knight's eyes shot open as he rose from his place at the Liberte's helm. His mind recoiled from the realm of the ethereal, and his consciousness was yanked back into the realm of the physical as a result. The shift was a jarring one that left Cedric stunned for a moment, his chest rising and falling heavily as he fought to regain a sense of normality. A few moments of silent panic passed before he managed to pull himself out of the mild hysteria.

"Something is off. I sense a presence that shouldn't be here."

The vessel rolled back into its proper position within the fleet. Cedric's mind dipped back into the Great Ocean, and his will reached out to touch those of the vessel's crew. After minutes of meditation, his influence stretched beyond his ship to other vessels within the Galactic Alliance fleet; the force answered his call and moved to bolster the morale of the GA's warriors.

"Sit with me and reach out Mirax. You need to feel conflict within the force. You have to see the violence and the tragedy, and you have to face it with a cold heart. You save who you can, you make whatever sacrifices are required of you, but you must always understand that you are not responsible for the men who die in this war. We have to bolster our own forces to triumph over the First Order. As Jedi, we are sworn to take away their fear and inspire them, so that they can be at their best when they are needed most. The greatest kindness we can give some of these men is the feeling of being a true hero at the end."

 

[Jairdain]

Location: Sullest to space
Objective: Medical convoy
Enemies: FO, their allies
Allies: GA, their allies, [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] and [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

Boarding the medical convoy on Sullest with her love and a student of hers, Jairdain had no particular feeling that anything was going to go wrong. Making sure the supplies and people were all on board, she boarded the transport and soon after they launched away from Sullest.

It wasn't long before they came out of hyperspace, but had not yet arrived at their destination. A blockade was in place and it had stopped the medical convoy. Being non combat ships, they shouldn't come under attack or be stopped. However, they sat in open space now at the blockade.

Turning to her two companions, Jairdain lifted a brow for a moment before furrowing them in thought.

"What is going on?"

This was directed at neither one of them directly, but just in general. If either of them could answer it would be great, but she knew they had as much information as she did. Which was basically nothing.

 

[Duke Dyson]

Location: Hyperspace -> Hex L,49
Objective: Assist the GA fleet
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Zark"], @Zanza Hijkata
Enemies: First Order
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Here he was again, traveling at the approximate speed but feeling like he was moving at a slow pace with only the blue lights as a guide. If anyone needed a brief reminder, it was that he hated hyperspace travel but the more it was done the more tolerable it became. There would never be a preference for it but something that he could eventually endure with time. It wouldn't be too long now until the warzone was in reach but the anticipation was eating away at him inside.

The mere thought of what they were up against hit Jax for the first time, The First Order themselves were an evenly matched foe and anyone would be a fool if they thought they were going to be so easy to oppose. Of all the warfare Jax had already come across it hadn't dwindled once that this was not some scout patrol or a petty crusade against some uncommon foe. Lives would surely be at stake and he only hoped that the Alliance had enough willpower to triumph. For sure he'd try his best, hit what he could and help ensure a victory but a strange dread feeling continued to sweep over indicating it could be almost impossible. Jax's usual calm demeanor was in a state of panic, not fear though.

Never fear.

He didn't fear the First Order. Just like the Empire they were simply a means to an end and eventually they would be stopped; wether it was today or in a millennium, the good fight would always win.

"Dropping in at lightspeed." Jax announced over the comm, preparing his starfighter to finally make the jump out of hyperspace. Whatever happened now wasn't in his hands, he was just doing his part. Avenging his own losses in the process. He didn't believe in some ancient religion but he could use the force's guidance about now. Suddenly he felt a hard lurch that was then followed by a wobble. "What the-" Something was wrong. His hyperspace maneuvers were jammed all of a sudden and there was nothing he could do about it.

Odd.. Wait a minute. They must have activated their inderdiction fields! And with that quite possibly their Gravity wells too.

There was no room for panic, panic ensured a pilot's downfall. He'd stay calm and endure it. Remember his training... he could still do this. He could still --- He felt a yank forward that he almost slammed his head into his instruments. Something with an immense amount of force just kept pulling him, pulling him until it suddenly stopped and threw his starfighter out into realspace. Jax was quite sure that alone could have been his downfall, he could have collided with some other fighter in his scope, he could have done something stupid and then-- His astrometch droid whirred in alarm as it checked his vital signs. "I'm okay," He breathed out in a state of relief. "We're okay..."

Regaining control of his TR-20, Jax pulled on the stick and made a dive towards the fleet, making sure to however keep an even distance where he could catch a glimpse through his visor of a few lumbering X-Wing fighters ready for battle.

 

[Decker Willo]

Location: Eriadu System
Objective: Join up with other Galaltic Alliance forces
Allies: Galactic Alliance Forces
Enemies: First Order Forces
Ships: Mynock Squadron
Mynock Rock

Decker Willo sat in the cockpit of his fighter, polishing over his flight helmet. It held his reflection, and he took time to look at it. Reflecting over his time in the Galactic Alliance so far. Already his squadron had taken losses, only about half of the original squadron remaining. When he came to the idea of Mynock Squadron, he knew there would be tough times...They were just a lot tougher than he originally believed it would be, for all of them. A beep he heard took his attention from his helmet to the astromech assigned to him. The message appeared across one of the screens in the cockpit, and Decker went to reading it. He liked his astromech, R5-D5. He had it since he began in the Galactic Alliance, and hadn't lost it yet.

Before he could give a reply to the astromech, the klaxon of the hangar activated. Decker got right up from his open cockpit. He hopped out and headed over to the closest intercom, attempting to get a hold of the Mynock Rock's captain. "Captain, what's with the sirens? We get some sort of alert?"

"Nearby alliance forces are getting called in." Decker nodded and headed to his fighter. The rest of Mynock by then were already heading to their fighters. "It's about time we got back into the action" he said to himself, all the previous doubts washing away as the corvette jumped to hyperspace.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

---​

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Executioner \\ Resurgent-class Star Destroyer​

Faction: First Order \\ Status: Defensive Patrol​

Allies: [member="Dako Asturo"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Therran Graush"]​

[member="The Major"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Samka Derith"]​

Enemy: Galactic Alliance | [member="Zark"] | [member="Zanza Hijikata"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Lily Kuhn"] | [member="Aryn Spar"] | [member="Davon Karr"]​

[member="Raph Thule"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]​

​

In Vicinity: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Elensa Jari"]​

---​

​

As the Executioner shifted its position, Sieger's eyes pulled away from the wide view afforded him by the large viewports at the fore of the bridge. Three of his most loyal followers shared the bridge with him today, three faces he had seen maybe one? Twice? His gaze falling upon them, he realized that it had been too long since he had spent time among those who professed their loyalty to his cause, to Sieger himself. His eyes lingered for a moment on each, appraising them with a cold expression, but then his voice was raised with calm demeanor.

"Far too long has it been since I have been graced by the presence of my followers, and now not only one, but three stand before me."​

​

Sieger was no empath but he could feel that which was the Force alive and well within each of them. A quiet yet turbulent power nestled within their very souls.. His expression cracked for a moment, the cold facade fading in place of an eerily affectionate smile. The leader of the Order stepped towards them, his hands folding in front of him as he raised an eyebrow when his gaze reached [member="Brennan Cabrol"]. It held there momentarily before darting towards his companion, [member="Ara Zambrano"]. What exactly it was he was feeling he couldn't be sure, but he was sure of one thing.

"Caehl... or is it Brennan now?" he said, a sharp tone to his words. "And the Arch-queen of Panatha" he almost whispered. An almost amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained just as cold. Their near amber color chilled by the very atmosphere surrounding the man. "It is good to see you again, Brother and Sister. Another?" Sieger said, gaze falling upon the woman by Brennan's side. "Your name?" Sieger extended his hand in greeting, perhaps an old habit of a time long passed but a genuine one nonetheless.​

​

​

​

As the Supreme Leader addressed the Ren before him, the bridge was a flurry. A contrast between the Supreme Leader who seemed to be in his own little bubble of time and space and the bridge crew, rapidly adjusting systems and analyzing data, Captain Cavadan standing in the center of the bridge while Commander Lupus moved swiftly from console to console. This was it.

"Captain, getting plenty of readings here, and it looks like..."​

​

Commander Lupus didn't have time to finish his sentence before the lights on the bridge flickered, a red hue cast across the deck plating. An alarm sounded swiftly, three times before leaving the air silent. It was Captain Cavadan who broke the silence, his raised voice sharp, spitting venom as he commanded his crew to action.

"All batteries, target the cruisers and frigates around that ship. Comm, get me a channel immediately. We are in Red Alert - no way the Grand Admiral missed that entrance. Sound general quarters, scramble pilots to their birds."​

​

Sensors had picked up the enemy fleet mere microseconds before their arrival, no doubt in part to the varying interdiction fields already in place from the Sondheimers, but as the Interdiction Platforms began to spool up it was an even greater strain to differentiate from all the sensor traffic. What was easily recognizable, even at this distance, was the massive hull of the Alliance Super-carrier. The Itsukusk. The Captain's jaw tensed, his ears catching the opening of a transmission.

​

"To all First Order vessels, this is Supreme Commander Nemo Ven, Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet," the Mon Cal spoke, and his words carried across the void, "You have illegally crossed the neutral zone into Alliance territory, and are now in gross violation of the terms agreed upon during the accords at Kaeshana. You will stand down immediately and set course back to Imperial space, or you will be removed by force."

​

Silence filled the open space of the bridge, hushed whispers as the audio played over the comm. *Supreme Commander Ven.. Here?* Captain Cavadan couldn't believe it. It would likely be just as surprising for them to know of the Supreme Leader's presence here, but now was not the time. Instead, he chose to make the first move. Normally such contact would reside with the Grand Admiral, but as it seemed - he was among the first to receive the transmission. With a nod to his XO, he activated the mobile comm device at his ear. What they would receive in response was likely not what they were expecting.

:: Supreme Commander Ven of the Alliance. This is Senior Captain Agron Cavadan of the First Order. I'm afraid I can't fulfill your request - as you can see, the blockade is being established as we speak. It's far too late for withdrawal. :: Even as he spoke, the Interdiction fields of the Keeper-class Platforms began to form, the sensors on all nearby vessels indicating the same. Captain Cavadan gave the Supreme Commander a moment to confirm his words. :: As to your threat of removing us by Force... You will try. ::​

​

With that, his hand came down in a fist, the final command going out to the interdiction platforms. As the lights began to show green across the panel, the Captain knew the station's fields would be up within seconds. He could feel the tension in the air, his mouth dry as he looked to the side of the bridge. There Sieger stood, his demeanor one of total serenity, as if the gravity of the situation bore no weight. In an instant he felt a strange tingle in the pit of his stomach, a warmth spreading throughout his full body. He could practically feel the electrons and neurons in the air, the energy pulsing through his body - he had nothing to fear. No fear, only strength, and power.

"Prepare all batteries to fire - but standby. "​

​

Similar orders would be relayed across the fleet. Hold your fire. Wait until you see the whites of their eyes.​

​

​

Sieger's attention had been drawn, and there he stood upon the polished deck of the FIV Executioner. With only a gaze the energy of the Force swirled around him, not only he but also Captain Cavadan, the XO, Commander Lupus, but then entire vessel. It was an effort, but not one he was unaccustomed to. Each man and woman, each trooper and naval sailor would feel the energy of the Dark Side, not gripping at their throats but at their resolve. Fanning the flame of loyalty to Sieger Ren and the First Order. Sharpening their minds against the fight to come. The other Ren would no doubt feel similarly, their own connection to the Force solidified in Sieger's act as he called upon the Force and bent it to his will. In this, he would dominate the minds of those loyal to his cause, gently guiding their actions and enhancing their ability to carry out the will of their ruler.

*Your move Supreme Commander.*​

 

[Cassius Droma]

Cassius Droma | Captain Tyrus Loran (NPC)
Allies: Galactic Alliance | Silver Jedi Order [[member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]]
Enemies: First Order

Captain Tyrus Loran sat in the command chair of the Corona-class frigate Hala, fingers lightly tapping his console as he stared into the wavy blue tunnel of hyperspace ahead of them. Their mission was a simple one, and one that Captain Loran had run many times before: escorting a medical frigate to a world that badly needed it. Normally, the captain would feel relatively at ease on these types of assignments, but he felt even more relaxed knowing he had a complement of Jedi on the medical frigate. Not to mention the two Jedi pilots leading their own elite starfighter squadrons to fly escort.

This feeling of relaxation soon melted away as an alert came across his screen. Stiffening up in his chair, the experienced naval officer went into command mode. “What’s going on, Lieutenant?” he addressed one of his comm officers.

“The fleet is pulling out of hyperspace, sir,” the comm officer said, pressing his headset into his ear. “First Order ships have entered the sector ahead of us!”

“Full alert,” Loran called out in an authoritative and firm voice, not letting the rising anticipation show to his officers. “Raise shields and charge weapons as soon as we come out of hyperspace, but we stick with the Tibiyin, no matter what. And get our pilots to their fighters.” Pressing a button on his console, Loran continued, “Squadron leaders, report in.”

“Jade Leader, standing by,” Cassius Droma said from the cockpit of his RZ-X A-wing interceptor.

“We’re coming out of hyperspace – First Order ships are blocking our path. Get ready to defend us if needed,” Loran commanded, knowing the respective leaders of Jade and Onyx squadrons would be more than capable of defending them, even without the help of their additional fighters still in the hangar bay of the Hala.

“Copy that, captain,” Cassius said, relaying the orders to the rest of his squadron. Readjusting the grip on his joystick, the young pilot sighed, clearing his mind and calling the Force to him. Open conflict such as this was never something he looked forward to, but it was a reality he was sadly becoming more and more familiar with.

The two ships, along with their initial starfighter escorts, popped in from hyperspace, overshadowed by the Galactic Alliance ships they were with. Captain Loran looked out, his weary eyes searching, anticipating.

The Tibiyin - Pelta-class medical frigate
[H 100 | S 100]

The Hala – Corona-class frigate (Escorting the Tibiyin)
[H 100 | S 100]
- 2 RAF-01 X-wing starfighter squadrons
- 1 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadron

 

[Subject 37]

Location: Spaec, Hex-L49
Allies: GA | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Adora Namadi"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"] | [member="Listralli Namadi"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] | [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Dagon Namadi"]
Enemies: First Order | [member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="The Major"]
Ship: Orar

Aryn shifted slightly, leaning his weight to the left and to the right as he attempted to find a little bit more comfort within the confines of his armor. It was really stinging him quite a bit to wear the thing, at least fully, and he felt somewhat self conscious about that fact. He knew that none of the others would judge him, but it still felt as though they would call him out on his discomfort at having to have his ears squished beneath the weight of the Beskar helmet.

He frowned slightly, then felt a slight shift as the Orar dropped out of hyperspace.

One of the pilots called down to him, and his fingers slowly furled into a fist. His claws edged against the covering of his suit, another piece that was holding him back. He truly had to be careful inside of the armor, otherwise he would damage it beyond a point of having it be space worthy. The Togorian bristled slightly, glancing up out of the cargo bay and over the railing that lead directly into the cockpit of the already stealthed shuttle.

Aryn had no idea where this ship had come from, but he was glad for it's capabilities.

No one would see them coming.

"Pick a ship, Pilot." Aryn called, his voice distorted by the mask covering his face. The man in the seat ahead of him turned slightly, clearly discomforted by the size of the Togorian. It seemed he was almost questioning. "Any will do."

Ra had told him it didn't matter.

They weren't here for specifics. They weren't here to tear apart Sieger Ren or rip into his little minions. They were here to make a statement, that the sons of Mand'alor were not to be forgotten, that they were the dominant force in this galaxy.

Without another word the Orar shot through the darkness of vacuum and towards the First Order's fleet.

 

[LT-137]

https://youtu.be/S4ndlq-Lp5A​

Location: Enroute to L-49 -> Reversion to Realspace.
Primary Objective(s): Board the Excubitor and Assassinate Admiral Cathul Thuku.
Secondary Objective(s): Unknown.
Allies: The First Order, The Golden Company.
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Cathul Thuku"].
Equipment: See Thyrsian Sun Guards NPC Entry.
Complement: Two Phaethon-Class Assault Transport's, Fourty Thysian Sun Guards (One Legion.)

Whilst their Security Bureau Handler detailed their plan in earnest, Khonsu’s hooded eyes found themselves fascinated with the woman before his band of merry men. Like their Echani cousins, those that were born of that distant, sun-baked world of Thyrsus, were taught from an early age to harness the sight. It was a genetic quirk that was honed through training from an early age, one that allowed it’s beholder to read the body language of another in close proximity the way that one would pour over a datapad. They could see that she was nervous. The slight tilt of her hand as she slotted the crystalline slate into their projector, and the nigh-skittish ticks that adorned the woman’s lips as she spoke. However, despite all that they had seen, those that sat within the augmented barracks listened intently to her words. They all knew the stakes and having learned from their gruelling past, information was their greatest weapon. The more that they knew about their plan, and the target thereafter, the greater chance they had at getting through this entire ordeal alive. If there ever was a moment for the Tribune to feel a sense of pride, it was then and there.

Sadly, it was a moment that would come and go, for the Sun Guard’s eyes were transfixed solely upon the feminine agent; pouring over her every word and ensuring none were lost in translation.

Though she had tried to hide her trepidation, the assembled Sun Guard’s had noticed - and as one was about to open his mouth and make a remark, the Tribune’s golden gauntlet struck his comrade across the jaw. Flecked with spittle and blood, the Legionary made an apologetic gesture in silence and followed that subtle nod of his head with another that begged for the woman to continue. When that moment of silence had passed, and the Agent began anew, she began detailing her current knowledge of the situation and where they were expected to fit into this carefully woven tapestry. It was a bold strategy, Khonsu mused as his blood-spattered gauntlet pressed against his groomed chin, nearly smearing his beard with his comrade’s crimson fluids. That was when the woman had finished her briefing and made for the datapad housed within the projector. Of all the things that the Thyrsian’s eyes had devoured, it was the way she carried herself now, that had intrigued the Sun Guard the most. She had seemingly become another person in that moment, now that her duty was done and the preparations began.

As she attached the slate to her wrist and asked for an update regarding their time to translation, Khonsu tapped a nearby terminal integrated into the wall and spoke in his native tongue. Within seconds, a voice had responded, but this time - it spoke with the basic tongue. “We’re nearly there now,” It said, as if distant or distracted by some unknown malady. “Nav-comp says six minutes until translation to realspace. I’d finish gearing up and stow any loose gear. We’ll be coming in hot.”

Removing his armoured thumb from the mounted panel, the Tribune turned towards the partially armoured woman - and tried not to allow his mind to wander. He wasn’t getting paid to watch his employer clad herself in the vestments of her trade, nor could he allow his imagination to run wild. The man needed to get a grip, and fast. So, he did what anyone would do in this situation, and busied his hands in the vain attempt to clear his mind. “We’ll break from hyperspace in a few moments,” Khonsu relayed aloud, as he reached for his weapon and focused on the task at hand. Golden fingers fanned across the surface of the forged casing and pulled the massive weapon into his embrace. The reactive fibres within his powered armour groaned in silence, as they retracted and fueled the Sun Guard’s strength. In one smooth motion, the heavy weapon was affixed to the mercenaries back and magnetically locked into place. “You sure you’re ready for this?” He asked coyly, allowing his uncharacteristically charismatic smile to break the steely ebon facade.

Before she could answer, the Tribune adorned his cleanly shaven scalp with his golden crown. The hawk-winged helm slid smoothly over Khonsu’s bare flesh and hissed as normalized atmospheric pressure was attained by the two disparate parts connecting into one. Piercing crimson eyes flared to life as power surged throughout the helm, and bathed the Thyrsian in the false-fire of the newly activated heads-up display. As his eyes adjusted to the soft glare of his combat lenses, the Sun Guard watched as his gesture was mirrored by those under his command. It wasn’t long before the entirety of the hold was filled with golden warriors, whose eyes blazed with the promise of a swift, and violent end.

Fully armed and adorned for battle, the Golden Company and their handlers were suddenly plunged into momentary darkness. The overhanging lights winked out of existence and were soon replaced by a soft crimson hue. Now, their work would begin…

Tearing itself free from the azure grasp of hyperspace like a jealous lover, the Phaethon-class Assault Transport and its fellow kindred stretched back into reality with a decelerating flicker of pseudomotion. With their reversion complete, the two contrasting dropships sailed across the bespeckled canvas of infinite night as the wall of Imperial vessels grew ever larger before their very eyes. Altering their vectors of approach, and broadcasting their transponders across encrypted channels, the twinned gunships swung in practised unison towards their rendezvous point. It was there, behind the sensor masking shroud of the amassed Imperial Navy, that the Golden Company would await their newfound ally and their tardy prey…

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]​

 

[Dusaro Dresari]

Location: Orbit of Sullust, On Board Pantera class Stealth Frigate
Objective: Reacting to the Check in request
Allies: SJO, GA, [member="Liuna Ondizi"] [member="Jerit Kolomor"] [member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Kira Novak"] [member="Allyson Locke"]
Opposition: Boredom

Dusaro was always a sucker for military assignments as a Jedi. Sure he didn't mind going out and doing other things like busting up crime rings, exploring systems or even helping train on occasion. But this setting was familiar to him, he grew up in it after all. The rough banter of soldiers, telling war stories and surviving to make more of them. He had admittedly mellowed since he became a Jedi, but that part of his nature was not gone. Only lessened and tempered by his training as a Jedi.

So him being on board with joining this rotation was no surprise, neither was the request by the Silver Jedi for him to be here. Within a few hours he had found a group of Marines that would be defending the ship, Dusaro striking up a conversation. He did not visually come off as much of a Jedi, sure he had a lightsaber but there were no robes on him. With the various other weapons of war on him and grenades, he looked more like a Merc who happened to pick up a lightsaber up from somewhere. And depending on which person you asked, that might just be how they described him as a person.

Shortly before the call had come in, Dusaro had been patrolling the upper port side of the ship in full 'field gear' leading a squad of marines. There were some Xi-Charrians as well, though none were in his squad at the moment. They had just finished their second sweep and were taking a short bio and drink break when a call came over their comms from Liuna Ondizi, a Shadow who Dusaro had recently worked with on another mission. Grinning at the familiar voice, Dusaro activated his mic. "Roger that, Marine Group Handy Man reporting in. We saw nothing on our first and second sweep, taking a bio break in sector one dash two dash one. Do we need to alter route for a security sweep elsewhere on the ship?" Dusaro asked as the rest of his squad started picking up the pace, finishing what they needed to do in moments before being formed up and ready to go.

He quickly checked over the KG-B1 he was currently carrying for this particular mission. The energy packs were in place, he had three drum mags for its 20MM launcher loaded with pellets of durasteel 000 shot and two other normal sized magazines loaded with vibro-flechettes. Satisfied that his primary weapon was ready to go and that is lightsaber hadn't leapt off his utility belt, Dusaro kept attentive to the comms and waited for a proper update and further orders before he continued on his patrol route.

 

[Dusaro Dresari]

(Truly there are none free from the terrors, of the double post.)

 

[Tiland Kortun]

GA: [member="Cedric Grayson"]
-----------------------

Tiland paused with a frown as he looked down at his tea. There were far too many things happening at the moment for him to be able to focus on his works. The old man rose and smoothed his robes as he walked over to stand beside Cedric. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he leaned on the staff.

"A pity, this is." His low voice rumbled through the ship. "Perhaps bloodshed may yet to be avoided." His voice softened as he mused, considering. There were many options that could be considered. Negotiation might yet perhaps be successful, but given how the last accords were now turning out, he couldn't be entirely certain. It was an option worth pursuing. Then of course there were other options that he might try. Grand illusions to hide each other from the other's sight. Some grander foe who might force them together into an alliance.

That would be difficult, however, and he was not sure what such a feature might take. Both sides, he sensed, were set in their ways. But none had tried to speak to the reasoning of the other.

He would need to meditate on it.

 

[Bryce Bantam]

​

#StillTeamAlliance​

Location: Hyperspace, Hydian “Highway” (L-49) in “Zero” Charon-Class Corvette​

Primary mission: Survive the capture of Halron​

Allied: [member="Halron Corr"] (This is gonna hurt...)​

Dance partners: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] (IN SPACE!!!!)​

Awesome 80’s invasion mix (New for the second post)

“Force, now I see why they call you colossus Harlon.. Ok listen ya wack-a-doo I’m not here to debate geo-political beliefs and all that nonsense. Truth be told it’s not my place. All I want is to get you home to the Foundation and out of the GA’s hair. I mean this area is already troubled. Then you gotta go spouting your mombo-jumbo, firing up all the disenfranchised into a frenzy. We are trying to stop a war here. Keep the peace and let folks just live their lives....”

Bryce continued to walk over to Harlon intent to try and restrain the mountain of a man. As he did a soft feminine voice called to him, that is his communications officer Felicity Dumort.

“Bryce, the com traffic in local is well strange. We are in the middle of nowhere at the moment but the board is alive with activity. It is all coded, and not any codes I know the Alliance uses.”

Now on a normal day this would have set off alarm bells. Were there not a homicidal terrorist bent on death and destruction in the cause of his “true justice” in front of him, Bryce would have picked up on the danger. However as he was currently occupied with containing his prisoner and so let the matter alone, ignoring the potential threat to deal with the clear and present one.

“Look I got a nice warm cell with your name on it, I would rather not do this the hard way.” Bryce said as he pulled his BTI-DSG "The Hibernator" from it’s holster.

“Lets just go nice and easy, take you to holding and we can remove those pesky shackles.”

“Sure Brycie, whatever you say!” Layla said as she entered.

As the words passed from his lips his chief medical officer entered the bridge. Perky as ever Layla only hear the last part of what he said which was “remove those pesky shackles.” Thinking the words were addressed to her she did as he asked and remotely deactivate the bonds holding Harlon at bay.

“Wait, what, no I didn’t mean now?!” Bryce exclaimed.

A look of confusion came over Layla’s face as she suddenly realized what she had done.

As the restraints unlocked one by one and fell to the floor time seemed to slow. Halon was free, on his bridge and Bryce hadn’t had time to train his gun on the man. They were close, maybe a meter away from each other… and this was going to hurt. Bryce quickly raised his arm to aim his stunner at the man as he did a universal truth would follow.

“Oh feth…”

 

[lgmmrm]

#teamalliance
Entering the deep-space system in L-49
Primary Objective: Reconnoiter L-49, assist fleets there.
Secondary Objective: Make Red Squadron Great Again
Allies: @[member='Zanza Hijikata'], @[member='Jax Rhane'],
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving Theme

The Coordinates for Jarck's jump truly were precision, as entering the system, the A-wings were right in the middle of the standoff, halfway between the two fleets. Red Five and Red Nine were a ways back, just close enough to spring into action if the two fighters performing reconnaissance ran into any resistance. Jarck checked his readings as the rest of Red Squadron lingered out 'round the back of alliance forces, moving slowly towards the front as they awaited results from Bravo Flight. Red Eleven, in a beautiful A-wing just a few meters off his port, mirrored his movements as he swept down towards the fleet.

Even though he was out of fighter wings' usual engagement range, and probably wasn't worth the effort the First Order would have to go to to engage him anyway, Jarck didn't like getting this close. Most reconnaissance missions were quick-in-quick-out scan bursts. The size of this fleet proved... Problematic, even for a fast ship with good sensors like the RZ-1. To make matters worse, right as him and his wingman started to break for a second run, he noticed two dreaded ships show up on his targeting computer. Interdictors. With a gravity well he had no chance of jumping back to the RV point fast enough to avoid enemy sensors.

This Reconnaissance was now Reconnaissance in Force. He hoped he wasn't the guy who started a battle. If he was, so be it.

"Red Five, Nine, on my starboard. Red Eleven, Raise shields, load a couple of missiles in the launchers. Red Leader, Flight Bravo-Actual here. Transmitting what data we have, Moving to Secondary RV. Cracken Twist."

A Stream of numbers followed from one of the Reds, indicating the coordinates in which the secondary RV was to be, with minor changes in case the enemy could hear. As they tracked back towards the fleet in order to scout prime intercept territory, Jarck found himself following the orders he himself had given to Red Eleven, raising shields and readying weapons. Red Five and Red Nine in their T-70 and Alliance A-Wing (respectively), pulled up in their proper positions in the Finger-Four Formation.

"En Route."

The fighters flew back towards the new rendezvous point, hoping they wouldn't be intercepted.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

#TeamAlliance
Location: Space, the final frontier...
Supporting: None in direct action (Galactic Alliance in general)
Opponents: None in direct action (First Order in general)

Spoiler: With reference to...

The second wave had been small ships, escorts and frigates, mostly the ubiquitous Type 849. With the Shadow-class corvettes utilizing their miniature interdictors to allow for precision jumps and rapid deployment, the 849's arrived, dumped fields of Gravity Mines at the most likely ingress points, and jumped out. It was a stopgap effort, designed primarily to frustrate any rapid response forces who decided that action trumped any sort of decision making. The typical routes from Sullust, Sluis Van, and Polis Massa were the most heavily mined, with gradually decreasing numbers of the devices distributed according to complex algorithm.

JAST MEDIUM FREIGHTER​

DURANGO​

​

Jim had laid down for a nap.

When he'd left, Paul had been reading some of the promotional material about MandalTech he'd picked up at a job fair when they'd made a cargo run to the Wheel several months back. Now, as he returned to the cockpit, Paul seemed like he'd dozed off behind the controls.

Punching him lightly in the arm, Jim dropped down into the navigator's seat and began setting up the basic sequence of equations for the navi-computer to run once they'd reverted back to normal space. By estimates, they'd still have to jump to hyperspace, revert back, and re-position at least one more time before they'd arrive at Dorvalla. Maybe two more times.

Paul reached forward, his hand hovering on the controls for a moment as his eyes watched the read outs on the monitors. Finally, he rocked the hyperdrive controls forward. The mottled sea of hyperspace shifted into a plane of pure white for a single second, after which the bright light seemed to split into hundreds of separate lines that suddenly became the familiar backdrop of stars.

Alarms started going off from both sides of the cockpit.

"The kark..."

Jim froze for a moment as his brain had to adjust to the deluge of information pouring over the read outs. "Aw, feth, we got contacts all over the..."

The ship suddenly went sideways. The explosion ripping through the port side as the vessel as the mine struck amidships. Jim and Paul were suddenly running through the emergency actions checklist as everything seemed to go to Sith in a handbasket. The freighter was inverted at almost a ninety degree angle from its initial approach, listing hard on the port side as the starboard maneuvering thrusters continued to function even while all the lateral controls and stabilizers on the port side stopped responding.

Paul was wrestling to re-gain altitude control, while Jim was trying to manage damage control.

The sudden breeze told the men that the ship was de-pressurizing, rapidly venting atmosphere into space. As the pressure dropped, Jim Palmer reached over to slam a hand down on a small red button in the center console. Immediately, the subspace radio began broadcasting auto-transponder messages on all civilian emergency broadband.

...as well as the Corellia Digital CD-X subspace broadband.

The ubiquitous black box recorded that activating the emergency transponder was the last action taken by the crew in control of the freighter Durango. Internal metrics recorded that atmospheric pressure levels inside the ship dropped below human tolerance just a few seconds later.

​

STAR DESTROYER INTERVENTIONhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/92483-intervention/​

in orbit of the planet Elrood​

Being a pre-teenage Anzat meant that the fifty-seven year old Jedi was dead to the world when he finally crashed.

"...sir! sir! SIR!"

Captain Geralt was attempting a career as a necromancer, trying to rouse a kid who'd been in a deep sleep. Groggy, eyes fluttering but never entirely open, the bed-headed youngling seemed entirely confused as to what was happening as he reared his head up from the pillow and managed to mumble out a "...wuzz'it?"

"Automated distress beacon," the captain uttered, pausing a moment to ask, "Do you understand, sir?"

No, he didn't understand. He understood that he wanted to go back to sleep. But Mister Adult Man seemed to be keeping that option off the table for him. Rubbing at his face and eyes, the child's mind was only just beginning to thaw as he tried to even repeat back what he'd heard. "Auto... auto what?"

"The freighter to Dorvalla," the captain stressed firmly. "They've activated their emergency transponder."

Why were people talking in loud voices now?

Why were people talking in general? Verbal expression was entirely too much work.

Drawing in a deep breath, the young Anzat closed his eyes. He let out the breath, then did it again. Breathe in. Be aware of the Living Force. Breathe out. Be aware of how touch the space in which you exist.

As the Force flowed through his body, his mind briefly washed over the captain's. Sense and sensibility was returning. "The freighter to Dorvalla," Sor-Jan echoed back, flipping around so that he was now seated cross-legged atop his bed. "Do we have any sensor coverage?"

"Com-scan reports long-range sensors indicate several spikes in the EM band along the vessel's trajectory."

Any kind of electromagnetic radiation being detected by long-range sensors was going to be a significant power source. Reactor explosion? "What kind of EM spikes?" the boy asked.

"Indeterminate at this range," Geralt answered neatly.

Running a hand through his tawny hair, Sor-Jan blinked as his mind tried to work out the best approach to what seemed a search and rescue operation. This was what they maintained significant ships and assets for. Best to put those to use now and worry about the insurance claims or overtime later. "Have the Callisto recall personnel. I'd like them launched within the hour," the boy noted aloud. "Then, send a message to the Alliance. They may be better positioned to respond than we are."