The Galactic Alliance Dominion of Belsavis

[Vex Kumud]

Objective E- Bounty Hunter
Allies- Rebels
Enemies- Galactic Alliance
Location- Javin, Governor's Estate

Vex had received numerous tips, and heard just as many rumors, that the planet of Belsavis was under siege. The assault was being wrought by the Galactic Alliance, one of the many factions Vex had a deep hatred for. Of course that didn't mean he'd just run to their aid. His services and skills weren't ever free. Why would they be, or rather why should they? It wasn't a planet he particularly cared for, nor the planets inhabitants people he liked. As far as he was concerned, the conflict wasn't any of his business.

However he then learned that there were rebels, people fighting against the new regime that was moving in. He received a new message, one from a governor of sorts. Credits were involved which immediately swayed Vex to investigate. It was why he was now here, Javin at the Governor's Estate. He wasn't sure where exactly to go or what to do. So he figured it was the best place to be. He stood on the landing platform outside the estate, beside him was a small junker he had stolen awhile back that he was hoping to refit into a better vessel. He stretched a bit and cracked his neck. Time to wait for this governor.

[member="Fatty"]

 

[The Executor]

Objective E- Bounty Hunter
Allies- All Rebels
Enemies- Galactic Alliance
Location- Javin, Governor's Estate

Mono approached [member="Vex Kumud"]. He hoped not to scare him, but still, even if Vex shot, Mono's Mandalorian armor would protect him. "Hey, sorry to sneak up on you, I just found out where you were. It is time for us to eliminate the Galactic Alliance. I know you hate them, I do too, perhaps even more than you do. I'm glad we found this group of Rebels. It's time for us to get to work, my friend."

With Mono Vizsla and Vex Kumud teaming up with a group of Rebels, the Galactic Alliance would fall. The Alliance should not even exist. They are all bantha poodoo! Nothing will stand in the Rebel's' way, they are the greatest threat the Galactic Alliance has ever seen.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective E - Fortifying the Belsavis system
Post: 4/37

Having gotten the order through to get defense stations to Belsavis, Taeli had gone on to the forward operating post for the Alliance military. From all appearances, besides a few undead stragglers in another sector, it would seem as though things had mostly been settled ... except for a strange transmission that left the system a little while ago.

The origin of the transmission made no sense, inside the Tomb itself ... deep inside. She wasn't entirely certain what it could mean, but in her years of being in the galaxy, she had learned unknown transmissions were never a good thing at all.

"Master Raaf, we're picking up some unusual chatter outside the system," one of the GA colonels in the post said. "Some sort of gathering on Javin, picking up some mercenary contacts heading there. Nothing major as of yet."

"Mercenaries gathering in a nearby system is something major, I think," she replied. "Inform High Command of the evolving situation, I think we're going to need more support from the fleet."

 

[Elaine Thul]

11/37
Objective: C

She began to recover from her own gas weapon, well it was certainly effective. She then sent an order for all her troops to come to the head of the tunnels, she keep the Esh-Kha in stasis they were no longer a problem. However she had heard some scattered reports, of some mercenary forces landing or some type gathering. She wanted all her men ready, after all the cavalry always turn up with more wine beer. So her artillery and infantry began to march, to her location.

She then sent an urgent dispatch to [member="Taeli Raaf"], and it read.

Tunnels are secure, overheard something about later comers.
Please advise, on what action are required next.
Also if no further actions required, may I stand down my men.

She then waited for a reply, she did not expect trouble after all The Galactic Alliance had just neutralised a threat to the galaxy.

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance, like [member="Taeli Raaf"], or [member="Elaine Thul"]
Location - Abraxas staging area

More mercenaries arrived, some patiently waiting by the estate not to far from both the landing field and the fastest growing city on Abraxas. It was not large, and served purely as a welcoming point where mission details and plans could be crafted by the hired soldiers. Assuming that all the hired help would even need to be briefed on the plans, or were capable might be a better word. The small estate also demonstrated the kind of land that could be sold off to these soldiers of fortune. In the distance, you could hear the grumbling drills of refineries which found renewed resources down below, after centuries of dormancy. It would be good to place large investments on, or even buy whole factories, all would be equally good substitutes in the meantime, to cold hard monetary imbursement, not something the Coalition was quite ready yet to handle the economic implications of.

"Of course, the Coalition does not expect the help it would receive in this mission to be exactly, cheap. However, I will warn you that we cannot pay so much up front, least it somehow lessen your motivation to succeed. We do, however, have an awful lot of collateral you can own as of now, that might convince you of your financial gain in the future. Here on Abraxas, our poorest planet, is developing the fastest cities in the sector, and has reopened its refineries and mines after centuries of dormancy. This is the prowess of Javin wealth, and we can grant you the deeds to profitable areas on a number of our worlds." The Ryker took a breath, and turned to face one of the Tunroth at his side. Reading his alien facial expression from which he had gotten used to over the years negotiating with them, he realized that while they often turned to bounty hunting themselves, it was apparent they did not encourage the idea of hiring shady outside parties to fight on their side.

"Are you quite certain, you wish to sell away the Coalition to these - mercenaries? They come here only out of contempt for the opposing nation, and personal greed, not for any care of the threat they pose to us." The Hunter wisely stated, refraining from pushing away the mercenaries by referring to them by unpleasant accusations. Ryker scrunched his brows together, and waited a moment before returning to his conversation with KeCholo.

"I am assuming this is an acceptable proposition? Obviously there will be limits," He eyed the Tunroth who spoke to him, "Of where, and how much you may claim. Thus, keep that in mind when negotiating this deal."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

​

On the Abraxas Welcoming Estate...​

​

The two gathered mercenaries [member="Vex Kumud"], and "[member="The Executor"]" Mono Viszla, would find themselves on the Abraxas Estate just outside the city limits, and before the staging area, where hundreds of Tunloth, Human, and Lortan (in the order) militias gathered and set up camps. A number of ships, of a size no larger than 400 meters that would act as their transports. Some of them were simple freighters original intended for trading between the Coalition, and other large cargo transporting vessels that had to be slightly modified to accommodate the beings they would soon be holding. Very few were of a significant military class, and even the Governor's vessel was no exception.

They were quite significantly in over their heads when it came to their resistance to the Galactic Alliance's militant expansion. They had resources in persons and beings however, where they lacked in technology. The Tunroth were among the strongest, most trained, most experienced and deadliest warriors... and on top of that most populous of any Coalition world. Their half-hearted lack of commitment to the cause however, was troubling. If they only joined, they would have a great swathe of soldiers that could possibly overwhelm any ground war. Yet they refrained, and furthermore lacked much more technology than crossbows and spears. Yes, they had blasters, but the moment a force consisting of anything other than infantry, he had no doubt in his mind they would retreat. This was their ultimate weakness despite their splendor. All the same, four Tunroth Hunters, the absolute Elite of their commune on Abraxas, exited through a door to meet with the pair of Mercenaries, who were one of the few to arrive so quickly in earnest.

One of them spoke, "You are the mercenaries the Governor requested?" The alien eyes of the Tunroth looked each one up and down, lacking any indication it was impressed. Though inside its head, it would acknowledge one of them was a Mandalorian, who were famed for their skill and zeal for battle. They could use some zeal in their militias, it was remarkably sparse in the Coalition.

 

[KeCholo]

''Credits, land, I don't care if I get paid in bantha poodoo, I just want enough to compensate me, for my time, resources and men. After all, rebellions don't come cheap. You think your men are ready to die? Are you, ready to die [member="Fatty"]? '' Ke'Cholo took a puase between speaking.

''So, what do you want me to call for? Like I said earlier, I can get food, troops to train your men, latest weapons, bombers, starfighers even ships to take your men offworld. I'm at your disposal...but, everything comes with a price'' Ke'Cholo would sit down on a nearby crate, and twirled one of his phrik Westar-34's. He continued to puff on his cigar, awaiting the governor's answer.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Omega Pyre HQ
Belsavis
18/37

---

Belsavis has long since had a steady amount of defenses. Two that caught the eye due to this being a prison world were the two stations orbiting it; the Doaba Class Defense Station and the Uldyr- Class Defense Station. Former Protectorate territory also had more than a few lingering bits of protection that the Pyre utilized today.

The entire expanse of former Protectorate Territory had scattered hyperspace pyons that would alert large movements of fleets. What the Protectorate did in the past when they first established as the Pyre was to secure all trade lanes and major hyperlanes. This would grant advanced notice for any large fleets that had saved them before time and and again. Their maintenance was minimal, but their boon more than made up for their initial price tag from Silk.

Down below, Aeron sat back as the holoscreen came to life.

"Miss Saffron," she would murmur. She was never one to beat around the bush.

"I hope you are having a good day." A pause. "Shall we get down to business?"

 

[Saffron]

Arceneau Trade | Pharma Tech Biodome
19/37

---

"Namaste, Prex Kreelan."

The typical bow and cordial smile would be delivered towards the blond leader of the Private Military Contractor. Granted, with its domain in three worlds within Alliance Space, it was more of a small corporatcracy than anything else. Some may even may allusions towards the late Corporate Sector Authority at that.

Aeron didn't mind.

"Yes, if you so desire." Saffron would draw up her head, giving a smile.

"We would like to offer a mutually beneficial arrangement with StarCaf and Omega Pyre in regards towards buying terrain and working in conjunction towards PharmaTech's Eden Project." Saffron had sent ahead all of the details. For their cooperation, Pharmatech would develop a stronger and higher producing vine-coffee, while still retaining the important and vital taste. This was also in conjunction towards a security contract.

 

[LT-137]

Belsavis System: Unknown Grid Coordinates.
Objective: E - Survive (Horror)
Possible Allies: [member=Léon], [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"] (Status Unknown.)
Post Count: 2/37

​

Depressing the trigger as the creature had finally revealed itself, Yun felt the recoil kick the weapon into the air. Had he not been injured, his body would've been able to absorb the sheer brute force of the discharge. However, as his torso was compromised, and as the weapon required two hands to wield effectively, the Atrisian had to compensate so that he wouldn't shatter the remains of what was already broken. The steaming nozzles kicked upwards, as the stench of cordite and smoke began to billow out through the protective housing. With such acrid scent filling his nose, the former Grenadier yanked back upon the external slider and readied the weapon once again, as the spent shell was forcibly ejected from the scattergun.

Just beyond the descending ramp, where the door had been torn from its mechanical housing, the creature was nowhere to be seen. Taking in the scene with a pained glance, Yun surmised that the deadly blast had thrown the beast back into the darkness - though that had left the uncertainty of the kill resounding within his mind. If he could not see the body, there was a chance, however slim that was, that the... thing could still be alive. That meant he had to proceed with caution.

Sliding three more shells into the chamber and manually racking the slide once again, Yun reached down towards his boots and activated his combat boot's ability to magnetically seal himself to the deck. Now with both of his feet giving his muscular form the illusion of artificial gravity, the Smuggler limped back towards the wall mounted armoury, and began to rifle blindly through its contents - all the while keeping his eyes, and shotgun thereafter, fixed on the darkness beyond the door. His fingers danced around in the emptiness of the cache, and for a fleeting moment he had found nothing of value. That was until his index finger had brushed across a smaller compartment within the mounted alcove. Finding the latch after several seconds of probing, Yun unlocked the cabinet and dove inside. His cold fingers wrapped around the colder surface of something metallic and cylindrical. Pulling it from the small cupboard and placing it atop the shotgun the Smuggler's pain flecked lips curled into a small smile.

While it wasn't a flashlight, an emergency flare would do the trick just fine. It would give him all the light he would need so that he could advance throughout the bowels of this vessel and search for any survivors. Or, at least, that was the plan until the Atrisian realized lighting the flare would be nothing more than a temporary source of illumination, followed by more tender discomfort after it had sputtered out and died. Without a source of power to recycle the fetid air, igniting the flare wasn't the best idea. He'd be sucking in smoldering gulps of carbon dioxide soon after its ignition, and suffocating wasn't the way he imagined himself passing on into the afterlife. Then there was the issue regarding the sound of it as it burst into flame. Though his weapon had surely drawn the attention of other creatures ensconced within the darkness, the consistent noise brought about by its resplendent function would draw them directly to him like moths to a flame.

Damn, He thought, swallowing another grunt of pain.

Sliding the flare into one of the pouches sewn into his combat fatigues, Yun slowly began to move forward by limping down the gradual incline. He had to make sure every step was short, and his balance had been kept, for should the monster still breathe - he wanted to brace himself against the coming agony and hopefully eliminate the beast without expending too much effort. After several pained seconds had passed, the wounded Smuggler had reached the termination point of the ramp and stood at the threshold of the Command Bridge. Darkness swallowed his sight, leaving him utterly blind once more. That was okay, he said in the hopes of bolstering his nerves, done this once before and I can do it again.

His boot had glided across the deck, as he moved one foot in front of the other, carefully probing the darkness with both of his feet and the barrels of his shotgun. Finding nothing, Yun moved forward and repeated the process once again until his boot had kicked something wet and solid. The sickening sound of hardened leather smacking flesh echoed through the enforced silence, causing the Smuggler's heart rate to spike. This was where the creature had landed. He had to have killed it then if it had laid still after such a forceful kick impacted... whatever his boot had touched. The heady stench of cordite clung to the air as the former Grenadier bent closer, inspecting the shadowed outline of whatever it was that lay at his feet. He wasn't about to play the fool, either. As he lowered himself to the ground, the pilfered shotgun came with him; it's killing end pointed in the direction of what he had assumed was the creature's face.

That was when a groan of pain had cut through the blanketing silence, shattering it in its entirety. Yun's heart froze. That wasn't his. Whatever this thing was, it was still alive! Without even thinking, the Smuggler's trigger finger clenched, and the darkness erupted into a vivid splatter of crimson and orange light. His unconscious act had cast the former Grenadier to the floor with a gasp of surprise and pain twirled into a single expletive, leaving him covered in disgusting strands of gore and viscera. The shot had blasted the fallen creature, utterly disintegrating everything above its pallid torso, and painting the deck with its bloody remains.

Well, now he could say that the kill was confirmed, at least.

Breathing heavily and tossing the monster's discarded sinew to the deck, Yun slowly roused himself from the floor, taking in a sharp inhalation of cordite laden air as he did so. Giving the destroyed corpse a sharp kick for a second time, the Atrisian continued down the hall - thankful that his mag-seal boots held him in place as they came down in the growing pool of vital fluids pouring out from his first kill. When his boots had struck something once again, he reached out in the darkness and probed what lay before him. When the lights had bathed this hallway before their unfortunate disaster, this was the access corridor that had connected much of the transport with the command decks. If he had remembered correctly, there would be four turbolift hatches, two upon either side of him, along with a centrally located door that should be just before him. Feeling the frigid kiss of the portal underneath his fingers, the Smuggler groped the darkness in the hopes of finding the manual release lever.

When it was found, and slammed into the position opposite of closed, a blast of fetid air burst past the former Grenadier, leaving him panting with the effort. There were many things he had to do before the power could be restored, but first - he decided that both a Medkit and a Flashlight had to be found so that he wasn't hampered by the shadows clinging to every unseen corner. Thus, with his secondary objectives mentally updated, Yun pushed on towards the depths of the vessel, hoping that he would be able to accomplish his mission before shock had disabled his senses and himself soon after.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Cyrus had misgivings fromt eh start. He wasn't the type to call things too risky, but it was just the sort of fight he'd prefer to the Helldivers to avoid. Katharine was adamant that the opportunity was too good to ignore, even to the point where she was willing to commit house troops to the matter if it meant a bigger take. So now Cyrus was spending his very limited free time headed to some ass backwards planet to negotiate the terms.

The Slith-class Frigate that had brought him to orbit over Abraxes now faded in the distance, and the Thunderbird gunship began to shake and rattle as it entered the atmosphere. The large mass driver was locked into its stowage position, but the craft must nevertheless have presented something of an impressive sight. The cityscape below was probably impressive to those born on even more remote planets, but to Cyrus' Axxilan eyes it just looked pathetic.

And these were the people intending to challenge the might of the Galactic Alliance? They needed all the help they could get.

The pilot identified the landing pad and jetted towards it, altering course only slightly to make a mock attack run at the boorish estate that was probably the nicest spot on the planet. The Citadel back on Axxila had guest suites that were larger.

The Thunderbird continued its rapid approach, now seemingly on a collision course with the ground. it was all for show, of course, the sort of bombastic display of power and authority that came naturally to Cyrus. At the last minute the pilot, a veteran Helldiver, pulled up, fired reverse thrust then seamlessly switched entirely to repulsorlifts and eased the craft in for a near perfect landing.

Cyrus disembarked, not wearing his traditional One Sith Admiral's uniform but instead the red, black, and gold of House Tregessar. Gone also were his traditional Helldiver companions and instead a set of elite Tregessar Assault Guards flanked him as he made his way down the loading ramp and towards the awaiting hovercar that would ferry him to the estate.

There was much to discuss.

[member="Fatty"]

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries such as [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], [member="KeCholo"], [member="Vex Kumud"], and [member="The Executor"]
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance, like [member="Taeli Raaf"], or [member="Elaine Thul"]
Location - Abraxas staging area

The Governor eyed the Duros down, "My 'men' will die... either fighting for all of our lives, or at the hands of an Alliance Victory... the implications of which I cannot comprehend, nor choose to. I have every intention to be victorious... or to lose everything. So when you ask what I need, I ask for victory. That is what I'm paying you for, that is the time and resources I require out of you." At that moment, a thunderous noise came crashing through the air as a ship glided dangerously close to the nearby estate, and made way for what looked like could have been an accident, but through the skilled dramatics of the pilot, turned out to be another Mercenary landing. The effect of the theatrics was impressive, and left a clear impression within the Governor's mind. It would take more than drama however, to impress the Governor. He could not put his trust in theatre, unless that theatre was in war, so he would speak to this man imminently.

Ryker took note of the Tunroth militia, who seemed just as sceptical of the pilot's showcase of skill as he was, evident in their wavering and intentional need to be distracted. In moments, he realized what they had been doing all morning. A great number of them, sat over large stones they had hauled in from the nearby mountains using their enormous strength, and within circles, began to clash smaller stones across strange weapons - Kilter Staffs. Other groups seemed to be inspecting the cleanliness of their Klirun Bow's and tipping their caros arrows with talar. Then a third group, seemed to have erected short towers of the boulders they had dragged to their militia camp, and had scorched them black with blaster practice. The last group practice with the blasters was scarce in number, hardly fifty of them of the three hundred present in that single camp alone. It was clear it was unfavorable, though their marksmen accuracy appeared unhindered even without a bow, and most of them carried one even if it was not under use currently. It seemed the whole commune of them were distracted with the preparations of a hunt in a nearby forest.

For a moment the process distracted him, considering that this mining world almost certainly killed many ecosystems, and it was miracle at all that even this forest could exist so closely to this abandoned site renewed. What animals they would find hiding in the brush would be no challenge for their skills bred into their culture. A few, lacking confidence the hunt would be noteworthy as the Governor thought, seemed to have brought caged animals from their own homeworld, and were carrying them to the edge of the forest and releasing them into the wild. That would give them the sport they need to keep their skills honed until the Invasion was prepared to fight. Returning to the Duros' face without hardly any time lost since glimpsing the camp, he asked him a simple question:

"I must speak with others now to ensure I gain the same from them, what I asked of you. Will you give me what I ask, mercenary?" Upon the Duros' response, Ryker would then make his way to the new arrival once permitted, escorted as he had before by the two Tunroth who still maintained a scepticism about these dealings, but remained more or less silent nonetheless, knowing the Governor was using his influence for the good for the Coalition... a sentiment not shared by all of their kind. It took a great amount of convincing on Ryker's part to even get the militia force he got out of them. They were in sore need of the resources KeCholo and Cyrus offered.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

Jacen knew the sound that followed. That rough roar followed by a wump. Someone had fired a shoulder mounted missile launcher.

"Ayme!" he shouted. Much as he had done with Abel, he unceremoniously flung his padawan towards the safety of the temple.

Every nerve jangled as the impending doom came in the form of a proton rocket designed to piece capital ship hull. The terentatek lurched forward and swiped, stopped Jacen from fleeing. His saber worked quickly, cutting a cross into the beast's claws.

As he leapt back it went for him with the other. He felt a hot, wet pain all across his chest. There was a flash of light, a surge of heat, then darkness.

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Belsavis System: Location Unknown
Objective: E- Survive
Possible Allies: @Léon, @Yun Knesos
Post Count: 2/37

​

I've always enjoyed the freedom of being a mercenary, don't know why really. There was a point when I tried to go straight, be an actual soldier with a uniform and everything. It didn't pan out. Something about taking orders from a guy I never saw just got under my skin. When you're a merc most times the man calling the shots is right in the thick of things with you, or at least that's how I always tried to lead. I had thought that staying in the military would be what got me killed, just another statistic marked out in the tides of war. Now though I'm not so sure. With all the stuff happening now it's hard not to think about doing things differently. There's a good chance unforeseen chaos like what has befallen my ship is why those military officials chose to lead from afar. Can't say I blame 'em now.​

​

-Arlan Zy'rosh, Commander's Log​

The halls were cold. It made sense, when power was low heating was one of the first things to go. The last was life support. The fact that Arlan could still breathe was a relief him, but as he breath rose in white whips before his eyes the cold around him made the halls feel all the more hopeless. He hadn't heard any more shots since he left his cabin, no more screams either. Arlan tried to force himself to believe whomever had been firing those shots had proven victorious over his foe, but the sinking feeling of dread filling his mind refused to allow him such pleasantries. So now he walked in silence, revolver in hand with the hammer cocked. If something were to lunge for him Arlan had a nasty surprise waiting.​

​

Common sense had would have said head for the bridge, try to communicate with whomever may be out there, but Arlan now headed in the opposite direction. Chances are a lot of the crew had already had that idea, which meant whatever was terrorizing the ship knew that was the first place most would head. Instead Arlan headed towards the engineering docks. Most of the ship's on-board engineer's used shortwave com-links to communicate with one another just in case something of this nature happened. Arlan figured he could find one of those and jack it in to his own comms and broadcast a signal to anyone else alive out there. It wouldn't be easy, it probably wouldn't work, but he knew he could at the very least find a flashlight down there.​

​

It was as Arlan came to a sealed hatch that his felt uneasy. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if something was breathing on him. It was that same feeling one got when they knew they were being watched. Arlan turned slowly towards the darkness, peering inward in search of any shape or form moving about. He saw nothing, but he knew it was there. The door to a nearby locker room hung open drawing Arlan's eye. Then he heard it, the faint screeching of claws on steel. Arlan dove toward the opening, his revolver pointing towards the door and roaring out as it fired a slug. For a moment Arlan thought he saw something illuminated by the flash of his weapon's muzzle, but for now he was once again alone.​

​

 

[Léon]

Belsavis System: Location Unknown
Objective: E - Survive
Possible Allies: [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"], [member="Yun Knesos"]
Post Count: 3/37

As he breathed a misty cloud dissipated before him, he knew it was cold but he didn't feel it. His skin had grown prickly, and his hairs stood on end. His body was adjusting, but the Keshiri was used to harsh winters. Many families died of starvation or simply froze to death on the cruel lands of Kesh, Léon was one of the lucky few who survived. Now he must survive a new challenge beset upon him.

He unsheathed his blade. He knew there was something on board, but he didn't know what. He used the flashlight to guide his path, but it was dim. He swung it about, peering down an intersection. He stopped and held his breath. He could hear footsteps coming from somewhere. He stood there for what felt like forever, each footstep suddenly becoming thunderously loud.

He couldn't take on this beast with one hand on a flashlight. He switched it off, tucked the torch into the waistband of his pants and then gripped his sword tight. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness before moving on, and he did so quietly. His heart was pounding again, the war drum growing in desperation and adrenaline. He was Keshiri. He was ready.

He began to drag the tip of his blade along the grated floor, it sounded vicious. Loud enough to cause the beast ahead to turn and charge, and that is what he wanted. He wanted him to run at him, so that he may drive his sword into his chest. But the beast didn't charge, it dove ahead. Léon broke into a sprint, he needed to close that gap before it got away. Then thunder boomed, blinding light flashed. Something caught his shoulder, whipped him around and he hit the floor.

 

[Ayme Katash]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

One moment she had her orange blade at the ready. Ayme could see the saliva as it dripped down the beasts teeth, defiant to its angry roar. She watched as claws stretched out and muscles rippled in anticipation of coming into contact with the annoyances around it. That image was the last she saw before she felt the impact of her masters push. Her mind became a blank as she flew through the air towards where [member="Abel"] was laying. She was dimly aware of the heat from the impact of a missle and her masters flash of pain from the beast. Her body collided with the rocky ground and rolled several times before finally coming to a halt near stone steps. Blood was matting her short hair as it poured from her scalp. She wasn't sure if the injuries she was feeling pulsing through her body were from the day or her flight. Her cheek was smeared with dirt creating a whitish hew to one side while the other side of her face stood in contrasting red. She slowly lifted her head just enough to see the battle continuing against the Terentatek and the bridge failing in its own battle to stay in one piece.

Ayme took a deep breath and let her head slowly lower back to the ground. "Ah hell."

 

[Ruby Wilded]

[member="Ayme Katash"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Abel"]

A whistling blade flew towards the head of the monster. The rocket had inflicted a lot of damage to the beast, yet it was still not dead. Ruby had just been observing from behind as she should have. The situation was grim though. She felt the need to intervene and help the Alliance Jedi. Ruby's sword embedded itself in the exposed fleshy meat where the head plate was supposed to protect. Ruby ran past the line holding the bridge. The Terentatek roared, shaking everything like a deep bass sound would. Her charge broke down and the brakes came on. Ruby didn't exactly freeze from fear, not totally anyways. Her fight or flight system was having trouble with what to do. She'd fought an illusion of one once. How to fight it was different in the real world. "Why did I run in like this? I'm an idiot". Ruby reached out with her right hand. Through it she extended the Force to pull her blade free of the monsters head. By then it had begun advancing across the bridge. Stepping over Jacen's body to come for the freshest kill. The blade jumped back to the girl. She took it up in both hands before her. Ruby took one look back at the Jedi. They were injured, and the men unnerved. Ruby took her attention back to the giant beast. She needed a plan, and a better one than just living. Something would come on the fly. Until then she'd hold this thing off long enough to either come up with one or get help.

The Terentatek swung its uninjured hand at her. Ruby dove forward. Getting under the legs. Slashing as rose up on two feet again at the legs. Blasters weren't good weapons against these things, but sharp blades and stabby things she had plenty of to cut this thing again and again til it ran out of blood or steam.

 

[KeCholo]

Ke'Cholo puffed on the cigar, listening the the governor speak was easy...but staring at his face wasn't. He avoided eye contact at all costs, the man was simply too ugly. Ke'Cholo pondered what this man had been through, what political means he had undertaken in order to grasp hold of his office. Politics was almost as dirty as mercenary work. Nevertheless, Ke'Cholo responded to the bold response he gave.

''Listen, [member="Fatty"] . I will give you anything you need. You tell me what you want and it'll be here, I can promise you that. I'll take what payment you can give, but I will be compensated one way or another. You say you want victory, but I need specifics. You've been oddly silent on what you need, almost as if you're not sure if you're ready to go through with this. You need to prepare your men one way or another...because if you don't they run like little pansies once they're staring down a line of high powered rifles. And trust me, I've seen men do that. Men, the men that wives pray come home...and I can ga-run-double-dog-tee you you not all of them are coming home. There's gonna be a lot of cryin' 'for this is all over.

You're ready, are your men?''

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries such as [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], [member="KeCholo"], [member="Vex Kumud"], and [member="The Executor"]
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance, like [member="Taeli Raaf"], or [member="Elaine Thul"]
Location - Abraxas staging area

"Listen, Duros, I may know my way around a Dejarik table, and my people may have some loyalty to me, but I am not a general. I do not know the specifics, I know only that they need more than what they have, and deserve more than what I can offer them myself. I am a leader who delegates authority to those who are my superior. This is such a case. I know the full power of the Galactic Alliance, and I know that some of my forces are an arm's width away from being rabble... but with a bit of training and support rebellions have toppled Empire's larger than any of us can imagine. You can give me anything? Then give me everything you've got." The Governor glanced over to the other ship anxiously, the Tunroth to his side beckoning him to move on. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to another pressing conversation. If there is more to spoken of, contact me again and I will meet with you within the estate." With that, he moved on to Cyrus' party, waddling along on his short legs. He pulled out a handkerchief from within a coat pocket and dabbed a bit of sweat away from his forehead on his approach. Each Tunroth gazed longingly toward their commune, which now seemed to be assembling themselves for the hunt, picking up their bows and staffs, though not a single one hoisted a blaster that was about to traverse through the forest. Finally Ryker stood before the new comers ship, and awaited to speak with the owner this ship.

"Welcome to Abraxas, I am Governor Ryker Kel of Javin, and I represent the Oversector Coalition, as you might have heard. As you can see, we've gathered everything our Coalition can muster on its own, and I would think it is clear we are in a desperate situation requiring your assistance. There is much to discuss." There was a certainty about this party that in some way connotated a real air of power and authority, to which he was not used to attributing to the likes of a mercenary. Regardless, the politician concealed this consideration, and resumed business as usual in regards to the negotiation.

He had a similar feeling once, negotiating with the Assemblage of Three on Tunroth when the Coalition was still in its infancy. It was more pronounced back then, though it was more easily concealed given that there was no immediate pressing danger. Well, other than the possibility that by his mistake he might cause the Lortan's and the Tunroth to go to war again. Eventually however he was able to find the right people, and smooth over a few of the incredible mountains that left a gap between them. Now they were merely smaller mountains connected by a trickling brook. Someday, he hoped that brook would erode the mountains away in its entirety, though he would never be alive to see it. The hatred left in the heart of the Tunroth was long lasting, and forever altered their once optimistic view of their galaxy into one of scepticism and mistrust. It was amazing a commune had even come to Abraxas at the request of the Coalition's leaders voluntarily.

The Governor couldn't be more glad to see their ranks among his however, given the infamy of The Hunter's skills and strength. He had heard rumours that they were even stronger than wookies, and by the looks of them prepared to wage war or to hunt, he believed it. In a moment, the Tunroth Commune divided into many packs, running into the forest with a careful and silent precision. They would savor their hunt as much as they can, knowing there was very little sport to keep them entertained on this world. The beast they were hunting also, did not seem like any laughing matter. He doubted even the Lortans had the aggressive determination to effectively kill one.

The source of the Coalition's military strength, came in the form of many people of different clades, histories, and personal motivations coming together to fight a common threat. It was his only hope that they had the luck to stay together and survive....

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Even before he had stepped on the planet Cyrus has shifted his stance, his bearing, and his attitude. Now, his every step exuded the arrogance and formality of the Axxilan elite. From a military standpoint, his subconscious was screaming about the inevitability of defeat and that the best solution here was to withdraw and nuke from orbit. From a noble standpoint, this was an opportunity waiting to be grasped, and a vulnerable faction waiting to be exploited.

One must ever be meticulously courteous when convincing a man to sell himself, of course. Protocol demanded nothing less, even when faced with a man as horrifyingly ugly as the governor on a planet as wretchedly backwards as Abraxes.

"Governor Kel, I bring greetings from House Tregessar of Axxila, and thank you for your gracious welcome to your world. We are here at your behest, to discuss terms with which we might come to a mutually beneficial agreement. I understand your people are being threatened in a manner which is best responded to in kind, and if there is anything the Tregessar family excels, it is institutionalized violence condensed into an artform."

His couldn't help but add the last bit on in his own manner. If the governor caught the menace in his voice, well, maybe he'd take it as a sign of passion. Served Kat right for sending him to be a goddamn diplomat. He bowed to conclude the formal greeting.

"Pursuant to final approval from the current head of house, we can offer the services of the Helldiver Mercenary Brigade, and also the immediate deployment of well-trained security forces, to uh, provide training and advisory assistance to your own local forces. We also possess a small fleet, and though are remiss to put those any significant risk there are a number of non-combat services that can be provided."

[member="Fatty"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Forward Command - Medical Tent
[member="Trix Bastin"]

"Heartrate stabalizing."
"Tremors subsiding."
"Brainwave patterns nor- Master Eden!"

Avalore felt the cold metal of the medical table greet her left cheekbone with startling force. The room went bright, stars exploded before her eyes and a moment later the Healer was on the floor feeling the remnants of a frozen storm lingering in her fingertips. It felt like that frozen tundra all over again - all swirls of white and grey, the biting cold eating away at exposed skin. Her mind drifted briefly to [member="Ryan Korr"] and for a blink she thought he was standing over her.

"Master Eden! Master!"
"Get her in the chair - quick, get some gauze for her cheek."
"Smelling salts..."

The world came crashing back in a whiff of sulfur and brimstone that might make magma curdle. Coughing, sputtering, Avalore reeled back in the chair, blinking wildly.

"What-" the Healer choked.
"Master Eden are you alright?"
"Hhhh- my face-"
"It's gauze, you hit your head on the table when you passed out. Your cheek..."

Avalore felt the ebbing of pressure on her right cheek slowly growing stronger, a painful sting beginning to surface.

"She did it!" the exclamation came from Trix's bedside. The Healer Assistant looked up from a spot test while the other began preparing Trix for a transfusion, "Master Eden you did it! There's no sign of the poison. She's stabilizing. She's going to be okay."

"Well done, Master, let's get a Bacta patch for your cheek."
"Save it for the patients," the Healer sighed, feeling the lightness of relief begin to counteract the weight of fatigue. Force Light wasn't a power to play with - it drained as much as it healed and cleansed. Perhaps it had been a foolish move, perhaps there might've been a better way. She wouldn't be able to heal anyone else until she had time to recuperate her energy, but ... Avalore turned tired brown eyes over to the Padawan on the bed, every life was worth such a cost.

Finally she began to understand why [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] was so willing to sacrifice everything time and time again. Turns out she wasn't so different.