There is No (Re)Doubt Of Our Effort(OS Redoubt Dominion)

[Alric Kuhn]

The Redoubt.

It was a cluster of stars located within wild space that served as a last line of defense for the Chiss Ascendancy. It was filled with fortresses and citadels, enough planets made to hold out to contain the entire populace of the Ascendancy. There were not many paths into The Redoubt, in fact, there were only four known.

Luckily for Alric Kuhn, he knew two of them.

Titan Industries for the past six years had taken over the Chiss world of Copero. There it had established Yuuzhan Vong Shipwombs and had increased the size of the Shipyards already present. It had turned Copero into a massive sprawling Industrial world rivaling Kuat Drive Yards in its production.

Of course the Chiss had been rather pleased by this, and as a result Titan Industries, and by extension Alric, had gained their trust. It was this trust that had lead the planetary Governor of Copero to share the secrets of The Redoubt with Alric, and it was these secrets that now saw Alric aboard his personal Wyyrlok-Class Star Destroyer floating lazily through the haze of burning stars.

Of course elsewhere, lightyears away would be another fleet, lead by some Sith Lord, would be making its way into another part of The Redoubt.

That part, Alric knew, would be filled with Rebel Chiss. Men and women of the Ascendancy who did not agree with the Chiss' policy of cooperation with the One Sith, men and women who would very likely soon die. That didn't really concern him, Alric didn't care about an errant band of Chiss. What concerned him was the massive structure that lay within his viewport.

“There is is.” Alric said out loud, smiling.

The station ahead supposedly contained something of worth. Apparently it had been abandoned, hidden away for centuries, containing some old world knowledge that the Chiss had chosen to secret away. It didn't matter what it was.

He wanted it, and Alric Kuhn always got what he wanted.

Always.

Spoiler

-Locate and secure the research Station -Alric Kuhn Heading This Up
-Board and Destroy the Rebel Held Chiss Asteroid Base
-Engage the Rebel Chiss fleet around the Asteroid Base
-Locate and Explore the wreckage of The Outbound Flight Project.

 

[Maira Varan]

​

The Redoubt
Brask Oto Command Station

"Within this group of stars lies the last refuge of the Chiss people should our forces ever be overwhelmed in battle. It is impregnable, impossible for even a determined enemy to quickly or easily penetrate, with war vessels and firepoints scattered throughout. There are also other surprises that nature itself has created for the unwary."
―Aristocra Formbi.


//>Ina'nai'sabosen's Personal Log
//>424 I was hoping to change more than the course of war, but change the entire course of galactic history. Is it wrong to hold to that kind of hope?
//>429 My first batch of subjects arrived today... and I have to admit I'm very excited. This could be the dawn of new age! Orbital bombardments are meaningless where a virus can kill an entire population and leave its wealth intact.
//>432 I keep wondering if these sentients know just how they are helping the galaxy? Would that make this any different for them? From their files, I learned they are nothing but hardened criminals, riftraft of the galaxy. Perhaps this doesn't really matter. They are murderers and thieves. At least with my study, their life would have merit.
//>498 We have lost contact with our resuppliers. Not one ship has been seen entering the Redoubt. I fear that perhaps the Galactic War has turned for the worst.
//>545 Of the original five dozen, over 80% are now deceased. No controllable case has yet emerged. I find myself at a loss; has everything I've done been in vain? Still no contact. I fear that those of my team are left to fend for ourselves now.
//>647 Another year gone and we have dwindling supplies. Sark'arn'ifar has left with the remainder of my research team, saying that it is best if we abandon it. I remain behind.
//>787 There us one case that continues to give me hope. He exhibits none of the immune system pathologies that the other subjects developed. I've discovered several cellular anomalies in his blood that I've been unable to categorize...

The double sided pyramid that was the Brask Oto Command Station floated along the bleakness of space silently. Few had ever traveled into the Rebound since the last great war, and those that were were often bombarded by the high radiation fields and often times lost in the cluster, the close proximity of the stars making navigation near impossible. This was a lost space station now, power kept at a minimum for life support systems. The last ship left centuries ago, and unknown to the Chiss Scientist, had met the same fate as that off the Outbound Flight mission. Leaving her, but all intents and purposes, an unknown exile forgotten on Brask Oto Command Station amidst of the Galactic war.

Alone for who knows how long, Ina'nai'sabosen called this station home, meticulously pouring herself over her research. With only one subject left, it all depended on him.

But what use was her research if no one was to utilize it?

*********​

​

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ina'nai'sabosen didn't dare pull her sight from what beheld her, no it was almost too good to be true. Those bright red orbs fixated themselves upon what lay beyond the viewport, highlighted by the orbital command station's scanners and confirmed by her registry.

"What is this?" Anais said with a whisper. It was almost too good to be true. Yet there within her crimson gaze lay a keen wariness that was doubtful of such a chance fortune. Pirates and the like had attempted in the past to take the Brask Oto for their own. They in turn, were quick to realize that it was no easy feat, and were met with every ounce of firepower the slumbering giant contained.

Cautious as always, determined to protect her research, Anais did what she had done many times before in such a circumstance.

Around her, the droids that were her only companion other than her subject quickly fanned the fires that would bring the Brask Oto to life.

She typed in the command codes, and sent the entire station on red alert. Outside, it would appear as if the outsiders had awoken a great beast. The stabilizers came online, defense and weapon systems thereafter.

 

[Ellie Mors]

On Board the Wyyrlok

Few were granted the personal possession of large ships such as this, and fewer yet had a Sith Lord at their beck and call, fewer still had whatever they wanted. Only one such being in the entire galaxy existed, to her knowledge at least, and that man was [member="Alric Kuhn"]. It had been several months, and while things had started fast and kept on speeding along, every day filled with some reason to get out of bed late, sometimes even to get into bed early, the two had become close enough that Silara tried to make an active effort in staying near the titan. While she had admitted her love for the man some weeks ago while in a hospital bed, he had yet to do so - the way he avoided the subject when she brought it up had stung her deep, but she had come to accept that she might just be the flavor of the week. While on Coruscant some days prior, during an attack by the Shadow Empire, she had lost all of her senses, including her ability to hear and even touch the force, and had come to terms with being a piece of broken merchandise. It was that despair that wholly magnified the ability to appreciate a one-sided relationship such as this, and there was more than one reason for her tagging along with him nearly everywhere he went. If he didn't love her, she hoped that perhaps she could persuade him to at least stay interested in her long enough to keep her around. His note to her prior to her surgery had touched her, truly, and it had made her so elated as to feel on top of the world - but she knew that, by the expression he'd given her, the silence poised, he did not feel the same way to her as she had to him. She'd given him everything she could think of in the recent weeks, and though she was hesitant to give more, anxious and confused at this point, she felt that in the end it would pay off to make him her everything.

Maybe he'd do the same some day.

-

Sitting at the corner of the bed that she'd slept with Alric the night before, kept warm under the sheets in his comforting hug, she sighed at the silence and the complete lack of sight that she now faced. When she had awoke, not more than an hour ago - perhaps less - she had found the arm that had held her gone, the man beside her with it. Normally it would have been fine, she wasn't so obsessive anymore about people close to her, he'd helped her with that when she realized he hadn't wanted her as close, but being a victim of post-dramatic stress disorder, and being bi-polar at that, made life a living hell. Add becoming blind and a shoddy connection to the force, plus relationship problems, and you had sleepless nights and claustrophobic mornings. When she had woken up to the chill of the air on her shoulders she had been shaking, visibly at that, and while her heart rate sped up for a moment she silently pined for the man that had crawled out of bed without her. At moments she felt like she was floating on air, and others like the weight of the galaxy was pressing down on her like a boot on an ant. This particular morning was quite similar to a hangover - one she'd had the pleasure of experiencing now that the force no longer aided in metabolizing the alcohol in her body some weeks ago - in that her head felt like it was being held by a vice, and every part of her body, more specifically her joints, were ultra-sensitive, as if she'd smoked one too many cigarillos the day before. In recent days her sleep-deprived, drug-addict, yet sultry voice had developed a certain rasp to it. To her surprise Alric seemed to be quite fond of it, or at least the tone he spoke to her with since it had developed was a tad bit more cheerful. Almost as cheerful as the day they met.

She coughed lightly, her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself down. Her face was still that sickly white tone, like she'd died and returned with little oxygen flowing through her veins - not quite as far fetched as one would think. Her hair, an orange-tinted chestnut, was hanging disheveled around her face and shoulders, it had been weeks since she had been able to brush it in the way she liked, withdrawing another point for beauty from the middle-aged woman. Had she been capable of sight, her head tilting towards where she remembered the door was would have allowed her gaze to meet evenly with the handle, not that she felt the motivation to care. Today it felt like everything about her was a struggle, from getting out of bed to just recovering from the delayed reaction to having her source of warmth removed. She shivered. Quietly she stumbled from the bed, reaching out with her hands to struggle to feel her way to the drawers that she kept her things at, and then fumbled with the handles to pull them out, only to be reminding she could not see the contents of what was inside. Rather than sigh, as she had moments ago, the situation overwhelmed her and she sank down against the receptacle in defeat. She had become so worthless, so completely unable to act on her own, that simply getting dressed in the morning had become an impossibility. As if to rub salt into her metaphorical wounds, she was reminding of the cheerfulness of Alric's voice, and her envy for his joy, being so blind to what was around her in more than the physical sense, drove her to maddening thoughts.

What if he had found someone else?

Her right hand, balled into a tight fist, lightly knocked against the dresser in her anxiety, and she choked on sobs that couldn't produce tears. She tried to shake away the feeling, but at the moment she was suffering and couldn't bring herself to even stand. What good would it do? She couldn't see her way through the karking door, she couldn't fething put clothes on, and all she wanted was for her best - her only - friend to hold her. But she eventually found herself standing, not of her own conscious volition however. She'd found the urge to stand and did so, and rather than dress, rather than do anything decent, she walked to the door and opened it, though she struggled with the pad to recall where the numbers had been located. Some minutes later, after eliciting several wide-eyed stares and low-whistles from those who knew that was unable to use the force in any meaningful fashion, a silk robe clad woman stumbled into the location of [member="Alric Kuhn"], at the assistance of a young girl that had seemed a bit too keen on being helpful for her taste. Though she couldn't see him, could hardly hear the words that he had said as she had walked into the room, she knew he was there. She hadn't gone unnoticed, though, and although many did not fall into silence for fear of repercussions by the Tetan there were a select few who stared at her meander towards their bosses' seat, as if she were in a drunken haze, some whispers permeating the air - whispers the woman could hear. She was distraught internally, but she wanted Alric to see her always as someone to love, to have draped around his arm and be proud of having. It took quite a big deal of effort, but she managed to make her way just behind him, draping her arms around his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek. "I missed you this morning." She rasped with a smile, the only image she could recall being his face as he kissed her hand just prior to her surgery. Guilt-laden eyes, maybe. But she loved him. She couldn't reiterate it enough.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He heard the whispers too, the low mumblings the tiny sounds and delirious little noises that came from some of the crew members on the bridge. They made him wince slightly, but not out of embarrassment, not out of shame from Silara.

Out of rage.

Alric Kuhn was not a man that one wished to anger. He was not a man that took to anger lightly. When rage rose within him, he went blind. He had dealt out more than a few broken skulls because of that rage and had received more of his own broken bones than he could count. When he became angry, it simply put him in a different state of mind. It made him forget, it made him sloppy.

Above all, it made him a different person.

It made him into a person that he did not want Silara to see.

She was better than that. She deserved his best, she deserved everything. When he had written that note he had meant it. He had given himself to her completely. She could have anything of his. Money, ships, an entire army. She could have it all in the snap of a finger and the thrumming of a heartbeat. She could have anything from him, anything at all. Except those three little words.

Why was that? He didn't know. Alric Kuhn had yet to figure out what was so obvious to everyone else, what was staring him in the face. He had yet to realize that he did love her, that he wanted her and only her.

Most would call him an idiot for that, and they would be right.

He shifted slightly as her arms wrapped around him, his hand falling to his side and clutching her outer thigh, his head swiveling slightly so that he could look at her, gaze shifting over the crew members aboard the bridge, silencing them completely with a simple glare. He squeezed her leg slightly, then leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered to her. “I wanted you to sleep. You haven't been getting much lately.”

There was so much to do, so much that had to be done today. He didn't want her to worry, he didn't want her to get hurt or injured again. Alric knew that was silly. Blind or not, Silara was still a Lord of the Sith, capable of snapping a neck with a twist of her hand. But he worried anyway. Worried about her body, her mind, worried about her in general.

One arm draped slowly came around her, depressing the silk against her skin and pressing his fingers into her ever so gently, almost massaging. “We will be done here soon.”

He actually didn't know if that was true. The Station had been abandoned for years and it was a wonder that the weapon defenses activated at all. Yet Alric had only moments ago been prompted for a transponder code. Luckily, he had received several ancient ones from the Chiss Expansionary Defense Forces and the Wyyrlok had quickly sent one of the codes in answer.

As Alric kissed the top of [member="Silara"]'s head again, a signal would be sent to [member="Ina'nai'sabosen"], one that told of friendship and return.

 

[Onrai]

Objective: History and technology
NPCs: 220 Mirari-class droids, 1 Marder-class Corvette
Allies: Whoever wants in

Entering near the edge of the Redoubt was a small ship, a Marder-class Corvette - a type long removed from service in most governments except for those that were strapped for cash. This particular ship, however, was not going to be getting utilized for combat, no. The intention of the crew on board - a crew of droids and nothing but Mirari droids - was to examine the remains of the Outbound Flight project, as well as recover any data from functional computers that could calculate the exact point the Outbound Flight project was intended to end up at. Historical reproduction could be useful.

Not to mention the chance of finding a working Dreadnaught, but that was another story.

The Marder moved into the Redoubt slowly but surely, staying enough within range of the cluster's radiation to help scramble scans, but far enough away that the ship's systems wouldn't be fried. There was, from what the machines could tell, a 'ribbon' of a sort of radiation, leading further into the system. The lead droid, designated Unit 01, speculated that the ribbon could perhaps have been caused by damage to one of the ion reactors of the Dreadnaughts used to power Outbound Flight, and motioned for the ship to follow it further into the system.

Spoiler

 

[Reverance]

Outbound flight project...
[member="Vrag"]

"It's always interested me though..." The Old man screamed at the Sith Lord, smacking his pipe on the metal table. Gabriel could hear it crack, the wood splintering beneath the anger, as the Sith Lord merely crossed his arms and smiled. "I let you have your slave miners...what more do you want?"

"Everything! You don't understand." He waved his hand, as if talking to a child. The irony of the fact that Gabriel was far older than Alset seemed to not dawn on the scientist.
"Nor do I care. Tell me, what interests you about it?" He approached, pressing his finger hard into the mans chest, pushing him into a chair. "Tell me what you want. I didn't hire you to hear you complain, I hired you so you would finish your damn work! Another word about it and I'll fling you out of the airlock."

The man nearly cowered, if not for his pride, though visibly shaken. The Lord of Pain bore down on the man with a crimson stare that would cut durasteel with ease. In an abrupt change in temperament, the scientist pulled a datapad from his jacket and handed it to the Gabriel. "I've taken a few notes, just some fine assessments, nothing too complicated."

"Nothing too complicated...Finish the weapon, Doctor." Gabriel walked off quietly to the leave the man to his thoughts. He would head towards this cluster, personally, and discern the need for these...assessments.

 

[Boethiah]

The Host Lord was glad to assist her allies, an enemy fleet? Usually she stood aboard one of her Deliverance-class Heavy Cruisers but this time she jumped out of space in an Aj'Rou-class dreadnought.

"We're here to assist, my Sith friends.", she sent out the message. With that her ship began to move into position.

All weapons were charged as the engines slowly pushed along the lumbering destroyer. It didn't look absolutely pretty and seemed scorched from battle, in fact it was the same destroyer that drove rebels back in Helska. So perhaps if these rebels were associated with the Rebel Alliance in any way they might know the vessel well enough to scurry in fear.

Now, it was time to be sure that the two of them were equally paid in favours.

The Primeval don't want to be the Galactic moochers, afterall.

[member="Reverance"] [member="Alric Kuhn"]

 

[Maira Varan]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

A sharp breath broke the din within the whirs of the multitude of computer systems within the bridge of the command station. Anais's attention drew over the streaming numbers of the authorization codes she'd never thought she would see again. Without further ado, the Chiss scientist strode towards the wide floating bridge.

"Andromeda, bring the Star Destroyer online. I wish to see who we are dealing with."

//Affirmative// Stated the artificial intelligence that ran the Brask Oto, the feminine sounding voice echoing throughout the empty corridors of the ship and bridge.

In front of her, the large viewport flickered with a cerulean hue as a visual holo - transmission was sent towards the approaching Wyyrlok-Class Star Destroyer.

"This is the Brask Oto Command Station. I am Commander Ina'nai'sabosen, Chief Medical Researcher, Representative of House Sabosen, and commander of this station." She appeared to be a rather stoic young woman with a dark bob of inky black hair and wide crimson eyes. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her posture straight.

"You have sent the appropriate command codes." Her eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"To whom do I have the honor of addressing?" There was a certain expectation there, the unspoken question that really mattered.
Their rank.

 

[Onrai]

Spoiler

The Marder had continued following the ribbon of ionizing radiation through the Redoubt, clinging close to it with all but necessary systems disabled - this included the weapons themselves. The lowest of power signature that could possibly be emitted was such. Why? Because the droids wanted to blend in as close to the emissions given off by the trail as possible, and the less power emitted, the less chance a variation of any sort would be discovered.

The trail would soon bear fruit. The droids would come across a world that appeared to be the destination point for the trail of ionizing radiation. The planet seemed itself to have a minor degree of overall radiation, as though part of the planet found itself stuck in the ribbon, which reenergized the radiation at that part of the planet. The droids would need to act fast in order to recover the necessary intel. And so it was such that the Marder quietly entered the planet's orbit, scanning as best it could for any signs of starship debris.

And lo and behold, there was something. A significant amount of metal remained in a single spot, broken and battered by the hundreds of years of neglect. Nonetheless, the base configuration matched that of Outbound Flight, though one of the two Dreadnaughts exposed to the atmosphere appeared to have been removed some time ago. With that, the craft moved in to investigate, the inactive Miraris in the cabins beginning pre-activation checkups. They would have a period of mere hours before the radiation became so intense that they would be forced to vacate the world.

Hopefully they could find something of some use by that time.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He squeezed [member="Silara"] slightly, his arm tightening around her. It wouldn't be noticeable to anyone on the bridge, it wouldn't be noticeable to the blue woman that appeared in front of him, but he did knowing that she would feel it

It was a sign of affection, of love that went unspoken.

“My name is Heinrich Serin. I am the head of Titan Industries, a corporation that specializes in the manufacture of weapons, ships, biots, and chemical agents.” He replied to her in perfect Cheunh, with only the tiniest hint of an accent. He hoped that touch would make her more friendly. “I was told of the possible existence of this station by Aristocra Ale'ri'Nuruodo and was given the command codes and authority to use them by him.”

This was all true. The Aristocra ran Copero and was a close personal friend of Alric, after all Titan Industries essentially was Copero by now, and all the information he had was official. He had no idea if [member="Ina'nai'sabosen"] was aware of the current situation in the Ascendancy, or even if she knew who the Aristocra was.

However he knew she would recognize the title, and he knew that having those codes meant something. He just hoped it would be enough

 

[Vrag]

Objective: The Outbound Flight project


After all the killing they had done in the past weeks, Vrag was almost giddy to do something else for a change. Her enthusiasm was clearly reflected in the equipment she'd brought along for her chosen task; complete with a brown cowboy hat — one that sat rather awkwardly atop her helmet, but nevermind — and a leather whip that hung from her utility belt, the genre savvy individual could easily recognize the source of her inspiration.

When [member="Reverance"] arrived, the armored Sith was already there, her boots propped up on a nearby table and a cigarette stuck in the corner of her mouth. That same individual might claim that she was trying too hard at this point, but it would only earn them a gauntleted fist in the face, so they wisely kept their remarks to themselves and exited the scene, stage left.

She gave a lazy wave to the Sith Lord and slowly rose from her position, dusting off invisible specks on her armor. After every fight, the woman cleaned her durasteel plates with an almost religious devotion, and though they would never reach a blinding level of polish — they were matte black, after all — the metal was clearly well-cared for.

"So," the firrerreo started as she fell in step with the man, "what exactly are we looking for?"

 

[Dr. Alset Niest]

Building...and experiments...

"Explain it to me again!"

He almost yelled, his mood spoiled by the Hand of the Dark Lord. He made quiet promises to repay the 'kindness,' as he looked up the most vile of vong specimens he had ever seen. He looked to the vong shaper, his glasses hanging low upon the nose.

"We call it the...chom-huun. We have shaped it from the chom-vrone..." She began to approach the little monster as Alset laughed and took out his notepad. "I wont ask you to spell it." As dischevled as the man could be, he began taking notes on the general physical nature of the little vermin. "What was the original purpose of the chom-vrone?"

"We used it for digging through rock. Hundreds of meters long, it could store molten rock from it's rectum...We reshaped the infant species to stave off growth, for lambent fruit consumption."
"Of course you do...so, why dispose of the lambent crystal? It can be used for lightsabers and fuel, I don't understand..." He said the last word angrily, not excited by the notion that enough facts were being left out to prevent proper illustration of purpose.
"Yes, you are right...but when the fruit is heated too quickly, it will explode."

"Mmm...quite a volatile storage system. I see." The sound of a thought hitting a brain, the doctor pulled out a lambent fruit and placed it before the beast. As soon as he nudged it close enough, growing impatient, it lunged out and swallowed the fruit hole. Within a few brief moments, a fan of energy shot out the tail end of the cylindrical little beast, heating the table and causing it to smolder. The doctor seemed to be struck by a sense of curiosity that overwhelmed his care for the table. They could get a new one in a jiffy, he consoled himself and smiled. The orange glow painted a wide swath across his glasses as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. "I see now...why he was interested in the little beast." He being the Hand, of course.

 

[Dara Gola]

Nyrrea approached the rebel base carefully, her small ship just fit into the hanger bay. She hopped out and ran for cover, her scream ringing out in the large bay " Please help me, the Sith are trying to kill me!!!" Several techs turned to look at her and a couple of the security personnel moved forward to see what the commotion was about. She threw herself at the nearest Chiss and pulled him tight. " The Sith... They tried to kill me, you have to help me. I... I... please help me." The tech looked around for help from his friends in the crowd. the two security personnel sighed as they tried to move forward and comfort the obviously traumatized twe'lik.

She looked up, a tear running down her cheek as she saw the crowd getting closer. almost there, she thought as she slipped her hand into her vest and gripped the lightsaber she had hidden in one of the pockets. With a slim smile she pushed off of the tech and ignited her lightsaber, the crimson blade springing to life as the techs finally realized what had happened. Before anyone could even react three techs were cut down. She felt the force bleed into her slowly, feeling her fear, failure wasn't an option, she was told to be here to help and she wasn't going to fail.

Her fear mixed with the fear of the chiss in the room and she smiled, her training turning that fear into anger... anger at herself for being weak... anger at her old master for torturing her... anger at the Sith for being the only place she had left to go. That anger fueled her rage, her blade lashing out in a whirling dance of destruction. In moments the hanger way was quiet, nothing but her panting and the hum of her lightsaber could be heard. She looked around and found the security terminal for the defense doors. She plunged her crimson blade deep into the console, acrid smoke filling the air as sparks flew from the now destroyed terminal.

She turned and looked at the corridor leading deeper into the base, " Asteroid base is breached," She turned her comms back off and started off deeper into the compound


[member="Alric Kuhn"] @Reverance

 

[Darth Athora]

OBJ: Breach and Clear that Asteroid base.
Allies: ???

Just the simple thought of Chiss actually rebelling against the majority of the Ascendancy disgusted Cyrus. Clearly the Ascendancy was incapable of keeping their people under control. No matter. The One Sith were here to establish peace. By any means necessary.

Cyrus was aboard a Sadow star destroyer. A lone ship hailing from the Panathan Empire. Not like more would be necessary for some asteroid base. The Sadow sailed closer to the asteroid and, almost in an instant, gunships and dropships flew from the hangars of the Sadow, flooding the space between the star destroyer and the asteroid. Laser fire from the base's defenses whipped through the air, looking to bring down the Blackblade attack. The Sadow held it's fire, for now, and instead, the gunships moved to provide suppressing fire so the dropships may land safely.

These tactic proved useful as the gunships drew the fire away from the dropships. Meanwhile, Blackblades were unloaded onto the asteroid and entered the base. Cyrus was, of course, leading the way. 16 squads of Blackblades, each with 5 men including a captain, were now inside the base and searching for rebels to put down.

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Objective: Locate and Explore Wreckage​

​

​

​

"Excuse me? Did I hear you right," the librarian at the Prakaith Sith Archives asked shaking her head in disbelief.

"Did we not pronunciate our words clearly enough for you," Darth Venefica asked growing more agitated with the woman. The woman's job was to assist anyone seeking information, not give them headaches or turn a simple request into a drawn out conversation. "The Outbound Flight Project! We are seeking information on it."

"Ah. Well it will take me some time to locate and download the data for you. Give me, oh, two days."

"Two days? You are trying our patience woman! You don't have two days. You have exactly fifteen minutes. Did you understand that." Darth Venefica wondered how such an incompetent person had been assigned to work the Sith Archives. A new policy had been installed by the higher ups to 'give back to the community' which entailed giving everyday citizens employment in the Sith. Not back breaking laboer jobs, but cushy jobs like running the Sith Archives.

"Uhm. I understand your frustration," the librarian said looking around to see if she could fine someone to come and bail her out..

"Do you? We think you have no measure of understanding how frustrated we are. Ten minutes."

The librarian's eyes grew wide as she quickly began typing into the computer terminal. With a nervous chuckle, she said, "Look at this. I found it. Just allow the system to complete the download transfer and you are good to go."

 

[Reverance]

Objective: The Outbound Flight project
[member="Vrag"]

Was this the part where he would pause and confirm that she was, in fact, trying too hard? Or did he prefer all of his front teeth in their rightful place. He was already missing a couple back molars from the fight with [member="Kana Truden"] on Kashyyyk, and seeing as though phrik was used religiously within the One Sith - well, he would forego the pleasure. Like wise, he bit his tongue as he continued walking, her catching pace with his stride. It wouldn't stop him from smiling and ever so slightly shaking his head, as he removed the datapad from the inside of his vest. While Vrag had obviously taken the time to clean the armor and oil it properly, Gabriel took the same sort of practice with his own armor - his armor being the scars and tattoos, that is. And as they walked, the staggered fluorescent lights above shined down upon the black and hints of green on his armorless arms, shining a spectacular gleam recently plied with lotion, as he maneuvered the digital device from the inside of his black canvas vest.

"Lets see..." He spoke as he scrolled through the information taken by Doctor Neist. "The good doctor is convinced of a stash of select rum upon the crash site of the outbound flight. I'm sure there is something noteworthy, technology wise, down there...but these are his priorities." He handed the datapad to the tall woman, who towered above him in height only. Perhaps with her armor, their weight was evenly matched though where hers was metal, his was stone. "We can take a dropship down...see if we can find some chazrach for you to whip." His eye dropped to the unique weapon she opted to bring with her, a standard whip. And for now, with old beaut and the procured pistol, he felt under-dressed. The thought crossed his mind as they made a turn and walked down some stairs, leading to the hangar.

 

[Amaethon]

Amaethon smiled wryly at [member="Nyrrea Danton"] and her performance from the shadows. A touch melodramatic, but passable. Her summary execution of the technicians had saved him the bother of igniting his own lightsaber. He disliked using it on non-saber wielding foes as they were mostly just untrained rabble, not worth the time of a trained swordsman. Besides, snapping a neck or strangling also worked.

He noted the surge of anger and fear in her especially. Being blind in one eye forced one to rely on Sense which in turn had the advantage of practically being able to smell emotion like a Weequay. She seemed to have quite a reserve of dark feelings, this one. He would watch her well, lest he be caught unawares.

As she made her way, he followed...

 

[Maira Varan]

@Silara @Alric Kuhn

Aristocra Ale'ri'Nuruodo.

If Ina'nai'sabosen was at all surprised or shocked, she did not show it. Instead, she merely blinked, as if this had been another inspection, simply another day and that the neigh on centuries of solitude had not happened at all.

"Heinrich Serin, head of Titan Industries, awaiting the appropriate command codes to verify your claim."


By the book and a stickler about procedure.

 

[Onrai]

The droids in question finally set foot upon the Outbound Flight's location - well, what was left of it, anyways. Hundreds of years of being stuck in a derelict environment had taken a significant toll upon the wreck, and the ionizing radiation had not done much to help protect the wreckage. Twisted durasteel beams curved through the sky, forming the skeleton of the massive frame that once welded four Dreadnaughts together as a single unit. What had happened to one of the Dreadnaughts was a mystery, as it was completely missing. The remains of the others seemed worse for wear, large patches of the hull rusted and corroded away.

Still, the squads of Miraris moved forward towards the wreckage. Radiation meters were detecting the click of hazardous energy near the wreck, likely from damaged or leaking ion drive thrusters - but the radiation in question appeared to be, more likely than not, non-ionizing, likely ruling such out as a possibility. There was a good chance that this was a distress signal, whose transmission frequencies had decayed over the centuries into white noise that would bring a significant tinge of heat to the electronics of the individual units.

Several squads made their way to the remains of one of the lower Dreadnaughts, the framework crushed by the tremendous weight of the superstructure above it, as they looked for an opening. Likely there wasn't much to be salvaged or gained from this - aside from possible hyperdrive routes leading outside the galaxy, or to the Unknown Regions that had been scouted by the ship on its fatal voyage. Any schematic fragments of the Dreadnaughts themselves could as well provide copious quantities of intel.

Now it was time to get the torches out to cut a hole in the wreck.

Spoiler

 

[Vrag]

Objective: The Outbound Flight project
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Jentara Vel"]

___________________________________________________________​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyzhiDmP4c​

She cocked her head to the side as they walked down the corridor, the flickering lights above casting an odd light on both of them. For a moment, the crazy thought that his skin may be oiled passed her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. The Hand had never struck her as the type to parade his muscled body just for the sake of it. She shook her head in disbelief, averting her eyes from the dark patterns running beneath his skin.

"Rum, you say?" her interest was piqued immediately — she'd developed quite a palate for exquisite spirits, back in her casino-roaming days — and her previous musings were all but forgotten. She accepted the proffered datapad and skimmed its contents while listening to the Sith Lord go on. A small chuckle escaped her chest at his remark, but she handed the pad back to him without comment. Yet.

After a short flight of stairs, the two exited the corridor into a hangar, its contours a familiar sight by now. How many times had she boarded a dropship here? Five? Ten? Force knew she had lost count a long time ago, the battles of past months bleeding into one another. She couldn't even trust her own memories, blurred as they were by adrenaline and the thrill of the kill; a scary concept, perhaps, if Vrag had the self-reflection to dwell on it.

She crossed the distance to the loading ramp with a few long strides, disappearing into the belly of the vessel without a second thought. She had her heart set on that cache of aged rum, and Force help the souls who would stand in her way.