Permission to enter granted by Republic leadership.
Pirates.
Objective 2.
[1/20]
Brentaal IV;
Pirate Space;
Ginivex Cockpit.
Alies: Da pirates.
Enemies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Ater Notechis"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"] [member="Torin Varik"] [member="Sabena Shai"]
In the hordes. That's how her employer had described things,
by then, he had said,
you'll be in with the hordes. Looking around her, she saw nothing to prove that. A sleuth of commandeered, barely uniform starships hung in silence. Most of them were, well, budgeted excuses for a real ship of war, cheap, common, few of which could be considered
military. She doubted that some of the weapons she saw could even penetrate standard freighter class vessels. It was a miracle the Republic was having much of a hard time with the make shift blockade.
That, actually, spoke kindly of whoever was in charge, or whoever had been orchestrating things. Perhaps, had he or she taken different steps, they could have made a fine military commander and really taken
life somewhere. Numerous transports had already been shot down in earlier skirmishes, halting whatever attempts the Republic could make to aid their followers on the ground. It was only a matter of time before the
pubs lashed back.
Her
own craft was more than a match for enemy fighters, and with well aimed shots it might pierce even finer armors. But Xenia had no intention of letting her
blaster power decide her overall value. It wasn't common Xenia took bounty or
for pay jobs, not anymore anyway, but the pay on this one had been good, and upfront- that, and a larger list of her
own reasons. Wrecked bodies of both rock and metal littered Brentaal IV's more immediate space, where atmosphere and galaxy began to cross lines. Remains of those who had come before, or displayed resistance, swarms of crates leaking from one of the numerous collapsed cargo vessels. The pirates lay in wait therein, all engines powered down, all systems collapsed. Invisible on any scanner, unmoving so as not to cause
motion, and tightly hugging the debris in order to blend in with the obtuse textures.
Except for Xenia. She had been brought on through a contact ping on one of her more infamous alias networks. She hadn't believed the pay at first, though in reading more into it she had been made to understand. The Republic would be their foe, and with them the spell casting Jedi, as well
she knew them. Strict, organized military, punctuated by irregular leadership and unconventional methods. And
again, their
Jedi. That's why she had taken the job, and she already felt the bubbling anxiety of total excitement welling holes on the inside of her chest. The Ginivex-class starship,
Geisha, remained fully powered.
<<There's an incoming signal.>> Beside her in a later added second seat, the droid named
Detox. As it spoke, it waved at a screen on
Xenia's side, like she hadn't already seen it.
"Yeah, thanks, I got it."
<<Is that a... hailing?>>
"No. No, look, there's more of them. I think the Republic's trying to... call someone, look at all these active channels."
Xenia tugged her fingers across a display screen where upon was displayed the digitalized efforts of Republic fleets attempting to call. Holonet activity, com activity. Scans and sensor bombardments lasted for an hour without anything actually happening.
"They're looking for someone?"
<<Yes, but they're not using many standard channels, must be someone they don't often chat with.>>
"Check it out, com and sensor reports. They're looking through us, too."
<<Trying to call the pirates then, eh?>>
As if in response her central display screen lit up with new data incoming. Reports of activity at numerous points along their own fleet and specific leaders within 'the hordes.' More like independent,
veteran mercs then a formal ruling class. Then, frighteningly quickly, it all dropped, all the activity and in an instant. In its place was one, single signal.
"That's a hail," Xenia snorted, stirring both herself and Detox out of their lazy lull of
waiting.
<<From?>> "Republic." Of course she opened it. Unlike most hails, it was one sided, but of obvious origin. Full of critical details in the hands of s slicer like
these two. An open ended hail made to many of the pirates she had been charged with aiding.
“Ladies, gentlemen and those of undetermined gender, welcome and thank you for your presence.”“Thousands of years ago, in the days of fighting sail, a letter of marque and reprisal was a government license authorizing a person – or privateer – to attack and capture enemy vessels and bring them before a court for condemnation and sale. Cruising for prizes with a letter of marque was considered an honourable calling combining patriotism and profit, in contrast to unlicensed piracy, which was universally reviled and of course punishable by death.”“I have decided to resurrect the letter of marque around this planet and its associated space lanes. I issue them in the name of the Galactic Republic.”“All you need to do is confirm your application stating the name, description, tonnage, and force of the vessel or fleet, the name and residence of the captain. This will constitute a bond promising strict observance of the Republic's laws and treaties. What you do outside of Republic space is not of my concern.”“The commission is granted to the lead vessel, not to its captain and states the enemies upon whom attacks were permitted – namely pirates and enemies of the Republic. Every pirate you destroy earns you a bounty. This letter in effect converts your private merchant vessel into a naval auxiliary. As such, you enjoy the protection of the laws of war. If captured, you would be entitled to honourable treatment as prisoners of war, while without the licence you are deemed mere pirates.”“Oh, and this is a one-time offer. Those who did not present themselves today cannot take advantage of this offer. And…the last person present to choose to sign up also will have their request denied. So I suggest you hurry up…”
-Ater Notechis
The notion left Xenia's eyebrows hanging in suspension, Detox's face unable to clearly depict that kind of emotion though undoubtedly constructing something similar in his computer driven mind. She hadn't expected anything like
that. In truth, she hadn't ever worked with the Republic in military operations, only as a peaceful ambassador, or the occasional politic. When weapons were involved, the Republic had always stood against her. Was this their display of might and courage, how they dealt with those who opposed them and their friends? With friendship bracelets?
Xenia was the first to answer.
"We don't want your hand outs, Republic."
The pirates, these pirates, were not so easily broken. They had stuck around this long because they believed in it. And because whatever drove them was far beyond some petty words and offerings. Over the coms, in response to Xenia's lead, the others howled a cry of violent expletives- some just cut their connection after a chuckle. Only soldiers or paid grunts fell for tactics like that reliably. Those on the front lines who were at highest risk of death, not the experienced killers lurking there
behind. It was a declaration of war, and their side wouldn't back down.
Summary. Objective 2 hyperlane skulkers, sith associates, mercs, and pirates make their appearance, responding to Ater Notechis.
OOC. Jacen Voidstalker, Feel free to go ahead with your plan, I'll try and respond as best I can to it. That goes for anyone else, as well!
