Omega73

Crosa came into space above Selvaris and searched for Black Sun agents until he found Kal and Silas speaking. He landed near their destination and approached them. He broke out in a grin. "Hope you guys didn't miss me too much." Crosa turned more solem. He was going to have to break the news to them. "The Arach'tar attacked the Hutt's palace or less specificly, Tatooine. It wasn't pretty considering the destroyed one of the two bloody suns. I was lucky enough to get out alive. Before the invaders came, those at the meeting decided on creating a council for the alliance we all are creating. We all have a representative, and we appear through holograms." Crosa paused and tossed the Kal's datapad to him. "I put all of the details of the meeting on there. Anything I heard should be on there. How is the fleet coming along?"

Crosa had managed to get in space with minimal damage. This was crazy... He had never witnessed anything like he had just a moment ago. Crosa now took this invasion more serously. He quickly prepared his coordinates and made the jump into hyperspace just moments after the others did the same. This was going to be a long war.

Crosa stood in awe as one of the suns went black. This didn't look good at all. Holy... Crap... Just then Crosa heard the wisest quote that could be said at the time. Which was "Move". Crosa didn't need any encouraging, he sprinted towards his ship, suddenly wishing he hadn't landed so far away, then started his ship up. He could only hope he would get out of this one alive.

Crosa stroked his newly grown beard as everyone voiced there opinion. All were logical, to an extent, but the idea of a council made the most sense. "I also agree to the idea of a small council. The thought of having one ruler is rather... misguided. Even if that person has the strongest character qualities in the galaxy, he could become far too corrupt far too easily. Neutral or not." With that said, Crosa became quite again, listening to the many sudgestions and views that everyone seemed to have. Crosa reminded himself to not voice his opinons, but the opinions of Black Sun itself.

Crosa landed his current ship down near the palace. He decided to walk a ways to the hutt palace because it was good exercise... He made a quick comm announcing who he was and who he reprisented, then made his way to the palace. He was eager to learn more about what was going on. Crosa wished he had his traditional neo-crusader armor with him. He felt naked without it. Guess it's something I am going to have to get used to.. As Crosa entered the palace, he slid his hood over his head and reminded himself to keep his mouth shut until his opinion was wanted or at least needed. He had no weapons with him, mostly because he was confident that there would hardly be any violence. He noticed a few people in the room, though none of them looked firmilar. It was time to represent Black Sun. The real Black Sun.

Crosa recieved the message from Jacen and immediatly paid for his drink. He wasn't expecting an apology, and he especially wasn't expecting an apology from Jacen. Things were getting more odd by the minute. First Kal mentioned something about an invasion, and now Jacen was mentioning war. Maybe the vong he had heard about as a boy were back.. or maybe not. Crosa guessed something similar, but his only real way to find out was to go represent Black Sun. With that decided, Crosa put all other thougths away and after exiting the casino, he found his ship and took off. Next stop, Tatooine.

((Double Post:oops: ))

Crosa came out of hyperspace and landed at the Golden Casino. This would be a good place to stay for a while. Crosa hardly had any credits considering he had just given most of his money to Black Sun, in an attempt to help the organisation, but instead it looked like it went unappreciated. After docking his ship, Crosa entered the Casino. The place was quite flashy, as he expected. Crosa went to take a seat at a small table in the corner of the bar. When the droid came up to ask him his drink he simply stated. "Correlian Ale" When his ale came, he quickly downed it and went to reserve a room. When he was finished with that, he once again sat down at the same table and ordered another drink. He quickly looked over towards a screen that was showing the current news on the holonet. Crosa couldn't hear what was being said, but he could read the large title blasted across the screen. CORELLIA DESTROYED At first Crosa thought it was some kind of sick joke, but after studying the projection a while, he could tell that this was no joke. Tears came to his eyes. He had no family on Corellia, for his father had past away quite some time ago, but it was his home. It had been destroyed. After watching the Holonet a little more, Crosa could see that no one knew what had destroyed the system. That's what that jerrk meant about the Galaxy being envaded.. Whoever had did this, Crosa planned to do something about it. The problem was he didn't know what he could do. He was useless alone, and he doubted any faction would hire him. If only Delta were here... Wiping the tears away, Crosa ordered a third drink. Until he thought up a plan, he was useless. Crosa hated that feeling, and yet it was one that he was constantly stuck with.

Crosa stared at Kal. He really was cocky wasn't he. The stranger also seemed to be trying to indimidate Crosa. Not a wise move. Never realize how good of a leader Piccolo was until you get stuck with this kind of guy... Crosa glanced over at Kal's blaster, then he looked over towards the wounded agents that Kal had hurt. He obviously wasn't concerned with the agent's loyalty considering he had just blasted some of the few able bodied men. Crosa rolled his eyes and walked away. "Fine, if you want Black Sun, you can have it." Crosa hated leaving Black Sun like this, but this was Silas's problem, not his. On his way to his ship, he stopped by the cloning center. He left a note for Delta to tell him what was going on and where he could find Crosa if he ever got as fed up with Black Sun as Crosa was. With that done, Crosa jumped into the cockpit of his ship and blasted off, planning on never returing.

"Well things are kinda in a mess right now. I come and go as I please but now I return. We will need a base to call home. The galaxy is being attacked. I am going to send a message to our people of how to find us. Untill Jacen, Piccolo, or Brendo show up themsevles I am taking comand. If you have a problem with that fine. The only thing you can do is suck it up and do what must be done. We have a lot to do and no time for bickering." Crosa stood there, trying to proccess what just happened. An unidenified agent just walked up to Crosa and announced his leadership of Black Sun. A normal agent in Crosa's position would have been logical and submitted to the new proclaimed superior. But Crosa wasn't logical. He interupted the stranger, who was now trying to help the construction. "I'm sorry, but let me get this straight. You can just dance right in here and proclaim leadership of Black Sun? I'm sorry but I can't permit that. I don't give a crap if the Galaxy is being attacked, you are not taking Black Sun without Jacen's permission. I'm in charge until someone who I trust to lead Black Sun comes along. Until then you're going to have to leave or help out under my command. It's your choice." Crosa said this with confidence, but without cockiness. He had learned his lesson about cockiness in his last duel with the sith Julio. Just in case of any trouble, Crosa nodded to three Black Sun agents who currently stood behind the stranger. The agents' loyalty to Crosa was second only to their loyalty to Jacen and Crosa was confident in there ability to fight if need be. "Just to make things clear. Leadership of Black Sun is not something I want, but the over all condition of Black Sun is something I care about, and it's something I wouldn't trust in your hands. Good day." With that, Crosa started to walk away to begin overseeing construction once again.

What was left of Black Sun came out of hyperspace and started there decent into Concord Dawn. Concord Dawn was an arid, sparsely populated world inhabited mainly by farmers. Crosa remembered this place from when he and Delta had taken the bounty on the Kal-Korans. It had been a while, but not long enough for Crosa to forget how well of a temporary base it could be. Crosa walked over to the bridge of the medical ship and ordered a landing near some deserted buildings and warehouses. The place was more or less deserted, and was a perfect spot to lie low and rebuild. Personally, Crosa hated lying low, but it was the best thing Crosa could do for Black Sun at the moment. As Black Sun landed, Crosa gave out orders. All able working men and women that were not busy treating the wounded needed to start working on building a temporary base as well as a shipyard. Black Sun needed a fleet almost as much as they needed a base. While agents went to work building the base, Crosa transferred his personal funding into the Black Sun account. We're gonna need it... With that done, Crosa went to oversee the construction of the new base. He could not help but wonder what became of the rest of the high ranking agents...

Crosa awoke from death... again. He had been killed... again. He stood up, confused... again. Crosa Hoverich had died in battle for the second time in the last few weeks. But this time, he had woken up with a new strategy. It came to him like a revolation. He needed to leave Black Sun as soon as possible. As Crosa stood up, ready to find clothes and get out of there, his strategy was crushed. He looked on the datapad that was on the bedside table nearest to Crosa. It had information on it saying that Delta73's cloning was having problems so they were not sure when he would be cloned, and that Silas had been captured. It also made a side note that Canderous was currently missing. That made matter complicated. It meant that no one was here to temperarily lead Black Sun, considering Piccolo seemed to have retired as leader of Black Sun. Crosa was the only option. First thing was first, he needed to find some clothes. If he were to lead Black Sun for the time being, he might as well do it with some clothes on. After finding a dark undergarment and a black robe, Crosa made his way to the command station and asked the captian to connect him to all of the other ships surrouning the current medical ship that Crosa was on. All of the ships were small evacuation ships that probably were makeshift medical evacuation ships. But there was still a little left of Black Sun. Crosa then made his broadcast. "Ladies and Gentelmen of Black Sun. This is Crosa Hoverich speaking. I am sorry to announce that I have been promoted to Black Sun leader.." Crosa paused with a grin, imagining the looks of shock and horror on the agent's faces. Crosa then continued, relieving them of their stress. "But don't worry. This is only until a superior agent comes to take my place. Right now we need to relocate to another base. I am sending the coordinates to each of your ships, but make a few jumps into hyperspace before going to the new base to avoid being followed. Hopefully, if we work together, we can rebuild and restore what Black Sun was. Thank you for your time." With that, Crosa spoke to the captain of the ship, giving the correct coordinates to send out to the other ships. The captain did as he was ordered, and all of the ships jumped into hyperspace headed towards a new destiny.

Crosa stood there knowing that he should run, hide, attack, or do something! A metal bar was making its way to Crosa and a trained sith was coming at him with a blade. Crosa raised up his arm to stop the metal bar that was rushing towards him, and the bar hit his arm, falling to the ground. His arm exploded with pain, but Crosa didn't care. He was focused on his opponent, who was rushing at him with his sharp blade. Crosa still stood there. He waited, and waited, until his enemy slashed at Crosa with his blade. Crosa suddenly dove to the left, but amazingly enough, the sith somehow managed to cut Crosa once again in the same leg, but a little lower down. Crosa somersaulted and came up on his feet, running as fast as his hurt leg could mange towards”¦ another bar! This one was a little shorter then the previous one, but it was better then being unarmed. Crosa grabbed the bar, then turned around to meet his opponent, who happened to be right behind him. Crosa swung out with his bar aiming for his foe's head. Crosa missed because his adversary dodged the assault, but the mandolorian brought the steal bar around a second time and scored a hit to the sith's stomach. Crosa swung another time but the attempted hit was blocked by the sith's blade. Crosa understood that his enemy was angry, and even though sith believed their power came from anger, Crosa knew that anger revealed weaknesses. It was a pity that Crosa could not figure this man's weakness out. Crosa then went mad, striking with the metal bar here and there, as quickly as he could manage. Julio did an amazing job at blocking most if not all of Crosa's attacks, but he would eventually get tired. The question was, would Crosa get tired first? Time seemed at a stand still, Crosa was trying his best at keeping the man busy while looking for weaknesses in the sith. Finally, Crosa managed to score his second hit on the sith's chest, sending the sith crashing to the ground. Crosa wasted no time, and brought his foot down upon the sith, not only hurting the experienced villain, but also keeping him on the ground. Crosa decided to speak briefly to the man who was about to die. ”œYou may not know this, but you have taught me much in the ways of battle, such as don't underestimate your enemy. But, you have also brought much harm to me and the organization that I have devoted myself to. For that you must face death. Farewell, worthy opponent.”

Crosa looked at himself on the ground. His armor was burning, and if he didn't do something fast, he would be as well. Crosa couldn't help but wonder how he was the one going up in flames instead of his opponent. Crosa stopped and rolled, trying to put out the fire. It didn't work. Meanwhile, his adversary stood back because of the possible explosion his armor might create. Crosa stood up , trying to locate the source of the fuel. Once he found it, he tore it off with all of his strength and chucked it far away. Of course, Crosa was still on fire and now his opponent was coming at him with a light saber. Crosa just realized why his opponent was so skilled. He was a sith. Just great”¦ Crosa launched himself into the air directed towards his foe. The sith swung his light saber with more precision then Crosa expected. The light saber sliced through the armor like butter and cut Crosa in the leg. The only reason it didn't decapitate his leg was that Crosa had successfully tackled the sith. Crosa screamed out in pain. The sith's light saber flew out of it's owners hand and Crosa started punching the sith in the face with all of his might. His opponent managed to get Crosa off of him, and Crosa ended up on the ground again. The mandolorian was so furious that he didn't even notice that the fire had somehow gone out. Crosa grasped for the metal bar that he had dropped earlier and chucked it at the sith, keeping him distracted while Crosa thought of a plan. He could walk, but barely. Crosa got his thoughts in order. He breathed in and out, thinking of a way out of this. What he needed was his courage back. When this man pulled out a lightsaber, Crosa had become desperate. Crosa stood up, fear vanishing. He was a high ranking Black Sun agent, he shouldn't be intimidated by this sith. Crosa saw that the sith had recovered his lightsaber, which was a good time for the mandolorian to start backing up. On his way for cover, Crosa grabbed his E-11 and started firing at the sith once again as he dove for cover behind a ship. He also threw grabbed a thermal detonator and waited until it only had one second until it exploded, then chucked it towards the sith. The sith was fast, but not that fast. Crosa kept firing his E-11, his restored cockiness was welcomed like an old friend. He now fought for glory, instead of fighting for his life. He couldn't help but not feel sorry for the sith, who was soon going to meet his end. ((2)) ((Just so everyone knows, this fight is happening before the base explodes. When the duel ends, we will return to normal time.))

Before we start, let's make this formal, shall we? My name is Julio. Crosa studied the grinning apprentice with caution. The man seemed to have a confidence in himself, yet wasn't boastful about it. Crosa couldn't make out what weapons Julio had up his sleeve, but Crosa was sure that they weren't squirt guns. What Crosa could see was that his opponent had a crushgaunt. A crushgaunt was an old mandolorian armored glove which used an unknown technology to enhance the natural hand-arm strength of its wearer. Gotta get me one of those”¦ Crosa quickly switched into a defensive mode as his enemy shot at him with surprising speed and accuracy. Crosa barely managed to avoid all of the bullets, but before he could recover from the surprise, another one came at him. Julio seemed to have pulled some type of blade out. Crosa swung a fist out towards the blade, both trying to attack and defend himself. His arm made contact with the blade, and before Crosa could bring back his arm to defend himself once again, his helmet was almost smashed by the crushgaunt. Crosa fell to the ground. Now he realized that not only was his opponent as good as himself, but he was better. Crosa knew that fighting this man was pointless and suicidal, but he also knew that those kind of fights suited himself the best. The mandolorian stood up again, being sure to avoid the crushgaunt, and rushed Julio with skill and precision. Crosa blasted five shots out of his E-11, and then somersaulted to the left, avoiding any attacks in return. Crosa came out of his summersault in a kneeling position, about ten feet away from his adversary and aimed his flame thrower at him. ”œMy name is Crosa Hoverich, prepared to be torched.”

Crosa was still waiting for the response, when it hit him, there were no communications. How the heck could he forget that? Before he could think of another way to communicate with Silas, four enemy star fighters started firing on Crosa. Crosa smiled, he would show them what they were messing with. Crosa pulled the triggers to blast the Vulture Droids in to nothing but dust, but to his surprise and dismay, the A-wing was truly an antique, the blaster cannons were broken. Talking about a welcome back present”¦ The droid ships, soon shot Crosa's ship into nothing more then ruble, but luckily, by the forces grace, Crosa shot his way out of the flaming A-wing, right before the ship was shot by another craft, and jumped right on top of”¦ nothing. The mandolorian fell through air, there was no way he could survive this one. But suddenly, there was another surprise, a Black Sun pilot happened to be swooping by in his ship, which was right under Crosa. Crosa crash landed on the ship, breaking a few ribs but surviving, he signaled for the pilot to land. The pilot did so without panicking. Well something went well today”¦ Crosa jumped off the ship, thanked the pilot, and made his to the medical center, which he found was evacuated. So Crosa grabbed an E-11 that a dead agent had been holding. He also gathered four thermal detonators, two of them being Class A. Crosa made his way to the main database. He logged himself into the files and started the process of erasing them. Sadly, the files couldn't be erased within seconds. While Crosa was waiting he signaled a good amount of agents to come over to him. He told that they needed to protect the database at all costs while the files were erased. They nodded and went to their tasks. The attackers had more resources, including more men, or rather droids, but Black Sun had more skilled men. Crosa then turned towards whoever had shot at his burning ship. People liked that deserved punishment, and Crosa was the perfect person to introduce it to them. He turned towards the landed ship that had so cowardly shot at Crosa's failing ship and signaled that he was ready to fight him in a fair battle. Bring it on”¦ ((I'll be happy to duel. You can start if you wish.))

Crosa awoke. Awoke from death. Death, for Crosa, was a sleep that should never have been disturbed. Crosa had failed miserably. He had killed both himself and his partner, Delta73, by failing to react quick enough against the empire. Crosa sat up in the cloning center. Most everything had been packed away or was currently being packed away by dozens of agents. Crosa was as confused as he was naked. But he soon found an answer to both his problems by finding an undergarment, as well as a note beside it. The note explained that someone with a large force was currently attacking the Black Sun base and that he, Crosa, was needed to fight with them. Crosa then looked around for some kind of armor. To his satisfaction, he found that someone had gone through the trouble of getting some neo-crusader mandolorian armor for him. Observing it quickly, Crosa found that it was not made of mandolorian ore and did not have the popular stealth mode that mandolorian armor was known to have. The only other difference was it was black instead of red and it had a flamethrower on it. Crosa suited up and ran out to find some kind of star fighter to pilot. Crosa had never really been an amazing pilot, but he was quite decent according to his father. Crosa soon found a star fighter, an ancient A-wing that should be held in a museum. Oh well, it would do. Crosa hopped in and familiarized himself with the controls, which weren't too different from his old ship, The Flaming Eagle, which had been destroyed along with Crosa. Crosa then took off towards the base ship. As he flew quickly towards the ship, he could see that Jacen had the same idea. He made a quick COMM to his superior. ”

Crosa arrived as well and let Piccolo know of his presence with a slight hint of sarcasm. "Crosa Hoverich reporting for duty..." With that Crosa started eating his lunch.

Crosa jumped into his own ship and entered in the correct coordinates. As his ship took off, he greeted his R9 unit. "Good to have you back R9." Crosa's astromech droid grumbled something about being bored watching rust expand on his metal parts. "Yeah, well I have not had an amazing amount of action either, but don't worry, we should be having some fun soon." Then Crosa's ship, a R-22 Spearhead known as The Flaming Eagle, took off into hyperspace.

Crosa spoke up in responce to Piccolo's speach. "That's all fine and dandy of course, but when do we start takinng some action. We've been on this planet too long for my comfort, and I don't know about everyone else, but I'm ready to go." Crosa turned to see that his ship was flying in for a landing, piloted by his R9 unit. "Here's my ride, now. So, where to next Piccolo." Crosa awaited Piccolo's responce.

Crosa nodded at Terra as she approached him. ”œExcuse me, Crosa, sir. Umm”¦ what's going to happen to the organization I just joined? Are we joining those Sith scum? Will we still be criminals? Will I still be an operative do you think?”

Crosa approached his friend, Delta, who had just finished up his duel with Nephelim. Crosa stood beside Delta as he spoke to him in muttering sentences. "Ah, I see you have met our guests... Jacen seems to be quite fascinated in them. Or at least one of them... Luckily for us, they happen to be on there way out. I've never been so glad to see a Rebel Officer." Crosa had no idea who had contacted Piccolo, all he knew was that the person was a high ranking officer in the rebel alliance. "And since when do we agree with the Rebels? I mean, we weren't exactly close after Dubrillion happened. Seems to me like were the same Black Sun we always have been, switching alliances to best suit our interest." He didn't know why, but Crosa made a grin when he spoke of Black Sun. Probably because he didn't have to call it Black Nebula or some hogwash name. Criminals are who we are by nature. Not sodiers as Piccolo would like to believe. He is going to have to accept that sooner or later.

Crosa watched from a safe distance the arrival of the sith. It seemed Piccolo and Silas were welcoming them. Now Crosa could see the three sith in person. There was one man, whose presence swelled with pride, and two women. Crosa frowned. He didn't like this at all. If there was one thing Crosa hated in the universe, it was cowards. And the sith reeked of cowardness. Oh well, if Piccolo felt it best to allie with the scum, that's his bad. Crosa would stay out of their way... for now. Crosa sighed as he started retraced his steps to see how the duel between Nephlim and Delta was going. Sometimes it seemed that Crosa was the only level-headed person in Black Sun. All others were either too pre-occupied with their own agenda's or extremely loyal to those that are pre-occupied with their own agenda's.

Crosa nodded at Piccolo. The duel was a hard one, no doubt, but it was a great learning experience. He then turned to Terra, giving her a nod. She had fought very well for a new recruit. So well, that Crosa wasn't so sure he could beat her in another duel. Crosa headed towards the refreshers to clean up. Before he was out of the room, he saw that the hunter Nephlim had stabbed a knife into Crosa's friend, Delta. Bloody Di'kut... After observing that Delta was alright and still fighting, Crosa once again headed towards the refreshers. After getting cleaned up and applying bacta to his wounds, he once again got dressed up in his Neo-Crusader armor. When he slid the helmet on, he blinked. Something wasn't right. Crosa switched his helmet so that he was seeing through his ship's cam. It seemed that his ship, that was being piloted by his R9 Droid, was coming in for a landing. Through the Cam he saw two-- no three sith, coming out of a ship. Just what we need around here, sith scumbag. Crosa knew that Piccolo must have let them through. Why he did that, Crosa didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to get to Piccolo to see what was going on. Before doing that, Crosa grabbed an MP5 that Delta had given him a while ago, and a few frag grenades. Wheither the sith were here out of hostility or as friends, he needed to be prepared. Crosa sprinted over to Piccolo. "So, what is with the sith landing on our planet. Should I get rid of them?" Crosa awaited Piccolo's responce. ((Sorry if my post is rather confusing. I did it in a hurry.))

Crosa stood there, more weak then before. His knees felt like they were going to snap apart any minute, his neck felt like it was going to fall off, and he didn't even want to look at his face. Crosa from a long time ago would have just given up against the young girl, but the Crosa now, who was stubborn and the farthest thing from wise, stood his ground. He would not let a 5'6 girl that weighed less then 100 pounds beat him to the ground. Not to mention she had zero experience. Crosa was angry. Crosa used that anger to fuel him. He ran towards Terra with as much speed possible, and punched her hard once in the face and another time in the stomach. She returned the blow to Crosa's face, but that was far from enough to stop the angry mandolorian. Crosa grabbed her arm, that was still outstreched from the punch, and twisted it so that it was in an arm lock. Then, he bruitily smashed her agianst the near wall with as much force as he could muster. AFter repeating the action,He then threw her to the ground and leaned over to speak to her "You fought very well for a new recruit. But a bit of advice, don't mess with an angry Mandolorian, especially if he was born Correlian." Then Crosa looked up to Piccolo, who was still sitting and watching. It was up to the Black Sun leader to decide who was the ultimate winner of Duel.