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Mechis III


King Kheldar vos Correlli

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The communications officer swiveled around in her chair to face the Admiral. "Sir, we have a comm coming in from Commander Gren Sairdonga. He asks permission to land," she reported.

 

Onderin's brow raised. Gren Sairdonga had been presumed dead when he failed to return from a mission to Vjun. No small amount of relief splashed through him as he realized that he was back. "Very well," he said, not caring to keep a little surprise from his voice. "Grant him permission and send him up to the bridge."

 

The Jedi Master then turned back to the battle at hand. Crusader was still immobile, but the Alliance cruisers had been using tractor beams to alter its position slightly every now and then. It was a difficult task to undertake, but it was working decently. Both of the damaged Star Cruisers had shields again, and it was clear that this battle would not be decided in the next few minutes.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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*His approach to the Sword of Justice completely undetected, Geki slips into the hangar and vaults from the landing ramp before it has even landed. Grasping the nearest man, he fills his mind with a hateful, xenophobic rage. The technician turns, frothing at the mouth, and hits a Devaronian pilot over the head with the heavy tool he was working with.

 

Geki works to stimulate racial disharmony amongst the other people in the docking bay, laughing maniacally as he walks through the carnage, his two Sith swords drawn and ready for battle...*

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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The man who was Gren acknowledged his orders then cut switched back to his squadron frequency. Quickly scanning the battle he made up a plan.

 

"Alright lads, we're going in for a landing on the Sword Of Justice, but unfortunately that large dogfight is inbetween us and home. So we're just going to have to go through them."

 

Punching his thrusters to max the E-Wing roared forward. Triple laser cannons and sixteen proton torperdoes ready to roll. The first of the Ties came into range. Itwas chasing an unlucky Y-Wing. He'd been hit several times and fires were going on in one of his engine pods... He'd be lucky to survive this battle.

 

But the Tie pilot wasn't so lucky as three beams converged on his position, cleaving one of his solar panels off and melting half his ball cockpit. THe Y-Wing dipped and turned for a nearby cruiser.

 

And then they were in the thick of it. Fighters all around. Dodging a stray turbolaser blast he moved his fighter up behind a interceptor. Matching his opponents throttle and dogging his steps until finally with a flash the two solar panels were released from a now vaporised cockpit.

 

Grinning despite himself he continued. Vaporising several more fighters before it appeared that finally the tide had been turned onto the Alliance's side in this particular dogfight.

 

Breaking off he ordered Sentinel squadron to remain behind. To assist where necessary. Pulling out of the right he aimed for the hangar bay of the Sword of Justice. A few seconds later he entered chaos.

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As fox struggled in the invisible grip of his Jedi, he went to use the only weapon he had that didn't require hands. His ship strangely didn't recognize the Jedi as a target anymore, and so acting quickly he manually set it to attack a target he picked out with his helmet's own targeting computer. A chain gun lit up again, taking a more precise, albeit restrained, shot at the Jedi. The short stream of bullets ripped off the Jedi's legs at the knees, breaking her concentration easily as she was felled like a tree, onto her face. The bounty hunter relaxed in his position, letting his graviton pack lower him to the ground next to her.

 

A few quick swipes of his sword rendered her limbs separate from her body. The crimson visor of the bounty hunter stared soullessly into the face of the dismembered Jedi. His scarcely heard voice came mechanically through his helmets vocoder as he lifted his foot in the air.

 

"Pathetic."

 

Fox's boot slammed into Armiena's skull, making the easy jump from bleeding profusely to passed out and bleeding profusely. The bounty hunter was so kind as to, after dragging the Jedi by the hair into his ship, pick up her severed limbs and throw them in his deep freezer. After applying a bit of first aid to make sure his precious catch didn't bleed out on the way to his destination, he locked her in the cargo hold and headed to the cockpit.

 

The ship took off, backing up before firing two missiles at the hangar bay door to regain access to the outside and vent the hangar into space. He took off quickly, not even bothering to disable the ship they had been aboard, and exited into hyperspace. He'd gotten the bounty head he'd wanted, he couldn't care less who won the battle now.

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"Still looking for a date, even on that side of the door?" Ariane smirked a bit. "Sorry I took your smokes. But hey, I took you down with a fire extinquisher. Who knows what you could do with them?" It was a joke, but who knows, maybe he had some sort of lock pick concealed inside one of his cigarettes, never know. He seemed like the type.

 

"But you are working for someone and you did come here for a reason, regardless of what you originally told me. How about we have a nice talk, you reveal all, the sooner you can get out and get drunk and smoke, and maybe the sooner we can go out for dinner. Maybe after we're all done slaughtering each other, how's that? But hey. You've got things to do, I've got things to do."

 

And I'm not even the one in charge here.

 

Needa get orders from higher up...

 

Eventually.

 

I miss socialization.

 

"So, how about it?"

 

She was kinda glad she hadn't killed him. Rogues provided more interesting conversation than lawful goods.

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((if this is not a post made in RP, I forgot to log out.))

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Looking at the chaos going on below his fighter the man who was Gren swore. His sense of the force was goiong cray too. He felt a shadow down their... Damn the master for not telling me more about the force. He thought as he figured out what to do as a hydrospanner clanged against the underside of his E-Wing...

 

He couldn't land with this chaos but he couldn't allow this to keep happening. Manuevering his fighter so that it was pointed towards the hangar exit he fired his lasers. Most of the fighting ceased as lasers designed to fire in the vacuum of space caused heads to ring with the multiple assualts of sound, heat and light. No-one died because he was firing above their heads... But the damage was enough to stop the fighting.

 

He didn't stop though. He kept firing until every sentient within the hangar was on the ground. Either unconcious or too cowed to consider getting up... Whatever influence they were under broken....

 

Landing he swiftly exited his fighter. Landing with a clang from his armour against the hangar floor... Standing he swore... Loudly.

 

One opponent hadn't fallen. The man who was Gren couldn't even tell whether he had been hurt by that barrage...

 

Flash

 

A young man... No a boy. Lying on the ground. Eye sockets crying blood as his assailent leveled a blaster at him.

 

Flash

 

His enemy was upon him. A madman. A burning hole in his shoulder where he'd been shot and still advanced!

 

Flash

 

The man who was Gren stumbled... That had been the strongest vision yet. Recovering he drew his twin wakishazi. Holding them in an half-and-half stance.

 

"Who are you?"

 

He asked... For want of anything better to say.

 

((3 Post modded duel Geki?))

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With there words there was hope in several forms. It would seem if he spouted off the boring drivel of his employers he'd get to go. That, and he may still get a date out of it. He chuckled at the thought, wondering to himself why he bothered the pursuit. It wasn't like she was really interested in him. She was just flirting to make him more cooperative. He knew, he'd played mind games before. He knew his cigarettes were nothing to them. They just held on to them because they could, and they wanted to get that through his head, as if the laser door and small cot weren't enough of a reminder.

 

Oh, now that wouldn't be fair at all, now would it? Tell you what. We'll have a sort of exchange. A quid pro quo if you will. You ask a question and I'll answer, then I'll ask and you answer. Alright? I'll start it off. I presume you want to know who I'm working for. Who contracted the hit on our fair admiral, or the happy new jedi couple.

 

Well, where to begin. As you can probably tell, I'm a bounty hunter of sorts. I don't really collect bounties for the money, you see. I did a few big ones a couple of years back which set me up for a while. Now I just do them out of boredom. I'll scan the bounty hunter network and the holonet, but not much more than that, unless I'm bored. The one currently giving me money on a fairly regular basis would have to be Ronin Wartide, leader of Black Sun. Work for him has been less hits and more errands, but there's been bloodshed from time to time. However, the reason I've stepped up to the more capitalistic bounties was simply for the challenge. I wanted to see if I could storm a super star destroyer by myself. These bounties were put up by the newly acclaimed emperor Faust himself. Needless to say, with their combined influences, I doubt I'll get to be you're prisoner for much longer.

 

The lack of nicotine finally getting to him, Black leaned his head back, his right hand reaching into the back of this throat for something. For a few seconds, it looked like he was pulling on the air outside his mouth. Only when a small contain came out did the thin wire become visible. Before Ariane could say a word, he opened the container to reveal a single black cigarette and a match. Without waisting any time explaining, he popped the cigarette in his mouth. It was already lit and he was shaking the match dead by the time the cigarette actually found his mouth.

 

Anyway, enough about me. Why do you fight for the republic?

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(OOC: Sounds good.)

 

*Geki, having been on the point of leaving the docking bay, is distracted by a sudden flurry of laser blasts aimed above the head of the rioting crew.

 

He senses the presence of the Rebel officer almost immediately: Sairdonga, the man he had savaged on Tatooine. Geki recalled the salty taste of the man's flesh as he bit into his face and swallowed his nose whole. Recalled throwing the unconscious man into a speeder and leaving him to the tender mercies of the Jundland Wastes.

 

Evidently, he had not been thorough enough in ensuring that the young man would not survive his one-way journey.*

 

'Hello there. Gren, isn't it? Long time, Gren. I must say I'm somewhat surprised that you have forgotten me so easily. I really must savage my opponents more thoroughly in future, lest the identity of their assailant slip my mind.'

 

'My name is Geki, Gren. Jidai Geki.'

 

*The second voice comes from the side of Gren, Geki's babble acting as misdirection whilst a second Geki appears from behind a cargo crate. The second Geki, possibly the real one, possibly not, grins and lunges at the Rebel officer. At the same time the Sith uses the Force to grasp a small durasteel crate and fling it savagely at Gren's head. The crate blurs as it is flung with inhuman speed, heading straight for Gren's head...*

 

(1)

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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"Admiral!" the communications officer gave a shout full of anticipation and fear.

 

Onderin spun to face her, sensing her alarm in the Force even more clearly than in her voice. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his own voice calm.

 

The officer tried to compose herself. "Sir," she said, taking a deep breath. "Multiple holonet reports have just reported the destruction of the Corellian system."

 

Pain shot through the Jedi Master's heart. "What?" he asked, requiring some sort of explanation for the drastic news.

 

"I don't know, sir," she said. "The reports claim that the entire Corellian system has been destroyed by an unknown force."

 

Onderin took a step back and a gasp ran through the bridge. "Destroyed?" For once, the Admiral was at a loss for words. Corellia was his homeworld, his pride. He had grown up there and trained in CorSec. It had always been his home.

 

But you gave that up, remember? You're a Jedi! And you're the Admiral of the Rebel Alliance against the Empire.

 

Admiral Starlisk set his jaw and projected resolve through the Force. "There is much going on in the galaxy, it seems," he said. "But we cannot face these problems without a shipyard. First we will take Mechis III. Then we will worry about the Corellian system."

 

Fight on.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Eyes closed, he was simply abosrbingall that was around, him, feeling the currents of the force ebb and flow in the mad chaos of battle. It was oddly peaceful, feeling the life and death struggles erupting all around him in the vaccum of space.

 

His eyes snapped open as he lost feeling with the grandmaster. His gaze quickly found itself at an exploding hanger, and a ship blasting out of it like some sort of movie.

 

Interesting, the Grandmaster is in that ship, in a critical condition no less.

 

Despite the harshness of his observation, he made no immediate move to help, instead he simply tracked the exit vector of the fast leaving ship, as well as took what information he could gleen from it. He wanted to make sure he could recognize it again, and give a decent desciription of things like arament and speed.

 

Had it been at any other time, he would have rushed to help in a moments notice. Yet detached as he was, all he could feel was a brief sense of loss, before resolving himself to correct that as soon as possible.

 

As it was, rushing out of the battle, to save the Grandmaster was... detremental to the over all goal of comming to Mechis III. They were suppose to secure a shipyard. Either way he would make sure he tried to capture a ship yard.

 

His eyebrow raised as he thought he felt something before he felt what small measure of peace he had established shatter. During his time as a Jedi, he had been priviliaged to feel many things through the force. Learning as it's student. Growing in understanding and wisdom, and feeling as if he was creating a connection with all things around him. Yet even with that he was unprepared for the evil and death that seemed to swarm over him like a tidal wave.

 

"By.. the force."

 

His eyes grew wide in fear before narrowing down into a deep core anger. Taking a deep breath he tried to rid himself of this deep seating feeling of anger and loss, and failing at that found himself trying to get to the root of the problem.

 

On a galatic scale, what he was doing was seeming minmial, in comparision to the rest of the galaxy. This coupled with the very sudden feeling of destruction that had just shaken him to his foundation had left him with a sense of fustration unlike that he had ever really felt before. Perhaps it was his unnatural sensitivty to the dark side. This same sensitivity that he had exibited ever since he was a padawan learner. perhaps that was what made him quick to anger and fustration. Yet even so it was no excuse for what he was feeling now.

 

His saber locked along ihs belt, felt hot against his tunic as if it was going to burn through the cloth and durasteel fibers that he used in his clothing.

 

Taking a deep breath he let the anger reach a boiling point inside of him before simply letting it go. He had found his niche. He would help take this shipyard. Then with the added stregthen of the republic, he would find this new threat and bring it to justice for the crime committed.

 

His ship glowed brightly as the force sensitive chemicals responded to his touch. In a flash He shot towards the shipyards themselves, planning quick fly by the make sure he had the full scope of the situation, before charging in saber blazing.

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Well, you could always just post something like "OMG GREAT FIC WOW!"
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As the mysterious freighter left system, communications came back online immediately. Brad had a connected to the Alliance Holonet again to try to make sense of what was happening. "What's going on, I've been cut out of contact for sometime. Admiral, what are your orders?"

 

Suddenly, Brad was overcome with a sickening feeling in his stomach, most likely due to a wave of Force energy he was just hit with. He felt as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. Something was terribly wrong, but Jedi Knight had no idea what it could be. No single person could have that much of an effect on the ebb and flow of the Force.

 

"What was that?" Brad asked across the comm channel. He knew that any Jedi listening would be able to pick up on what he meant by "that," while any non Jedi would be oblivious, and therefore, continue fighting.

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Over a hundred of the Machine God's vessels appeared at Mechis III, including several Purgatory class interdictors. Blue pulses of energy shot out from the ships, slamming into the rebel and imperial fleets. With their power systems fried, the ships were literally left in the dark as Deliverance class vessels moved in to deliver their deadly cargo of warriors. The Arach'tar elite would breach the hulls and slaughter the crews in darkness.

 

Akersa Seven going dark, targets located

 

::Aboard the Sword of Justice, several Arach'tar kill teams swept through the corridors, eliminating any crew members. Akersa Seven had located a briefing area that some of the crew members were attempting to rally in. Some tried to find their way through the dark with their hands, while others used glowrods and personal lights to navigate.::

 

"What happened? Were the generators hit?"

"No, it was some kind of blue pulse, I didn't see the source from my turret position, but it came from outside the combat zone."

"Was it imperial?"

"I don't know, it looked like it hit them too, but this wouldn't be the first time the Empire has sacrificed their own people."

 

Akersa Seven, advancing, strike for effect Loc-243.B12.536, initiate.

 

::As one, several Arach'tar stormed the briefing room, only briefly glimpsed by the weak lights. Pouncing in and out of sight like monsters from the horror-holos, the Arach'tar slaughtered the entire room mercilessly.::

 

Akersa Seven, Loc-243.B12.536 is purified, moving to next Loc.

 

Across the fleets this scene echoed as the ship crews were butchered within their giant steel coffins.

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On the surface of Mechis III, the commander of the Imperial forces, the grizzled, dignified officer watches with horror as this new threat appears. The color drains out of his face, leaving almost a half a minute of pure shock. Immediately he barks orders, sweat pouring down his face.

 

"Get those evacuation ships launched. We need to get beyond their interdiction field." The commander gritted his teeth, knowing that he was going to lose men today- probably the whole damn planet if he wasn't careful. "All firepower on those interdictors. Hopefully MacLeod isn't completely incapacitated and he can do something. Just to be safe, send in spare emergency shuttles to the Sword of Justie and to MacLeod's ship." The commander watches as the vessels attempt to board the various ships. "If we can get them out of there in time... maybe there will be a fighting chance for them to escape.""

 

The plantary batteries turn their full might on the invading Arach'tar forces- trying to hammer in on the three Purgatory class ships- hopefully enough to dent their interdictor fields and offer an escape route for the others. Comms are sent out to all parties- Rebellion and Imperial, urging escape by whatever means. Finally, a command, highly encrypted, is sent to the Emperor himself, warning of events here.

 

Steeling himself, the commander doesn't even look at his command crew on the surface. "Those of you who wish to try and evacuate, do so. The rest... We have a job to do." The commander does not watch as most of his crew leaves, hoping to escape the impending holocaust. A few remain- either from resolution to the Imperial cause, or from a spiteful hopelessness. That settled, the batteries continue firing, as other droid ships, still in orbit and having survived the initial disabling blast, gunning for the interdictors and trying to intercept the Deliverance class vessels.

 

That done, the commander makes a motion to about a half dozen engineers, whispering a special assignment to them. They give a nod and depart. With that, the officer watches as the firepower form their batteries on the surface and in the shipyards hammer away- aiming at the grav well centers on the ships.... hopefully buying enough time and space....

 

And if that failed, the commander gripped his old sporting blaster- a custom job he used for years- he would go down fighting.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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A flash was all the warning he had. One second Geki had been talking... The next his voice was coming fromm everywhere, appearing in multiple places, The man who was Gren swore. Suddenly he felt a prickle in his spine.

 

Which may have been what saved his life. Pivoting, his foot caught on the corpse of an emergency pilot with a blaster hole in his chest, sending him stumbling off balance. Swearing he didn't see the crate that was meant to slam into his head and break his neck like a dry twig. Instead fracturing his shoulder and probably giving him a concussion.

 

He caught one glimpse of a man lunging at him before the crate hit his shoulder and deflected onto his face. Knocking him off-balance. He dropped his swords as he clumsily danced around, tripping again on the same corpse Gren fell over. Striking the metal deck with a clang-

 

Flash

 

He screamed in pain as the madman bit into his nose... Biting it clean off. The knife had been supposed to blow this entire building up! What happened? Why hadn't it worked?

 

Suddenly his limbs stopped working...

 

Flash

 

-he continued the fall and turned it into a roll, coming to his feet next to the dead trooper who had probably killed the mechanic judging from the blaster and the micro filamenter wedged into his throat. Disorientated from the vision the man who was Gren stumbled again as he was hit by a wave of pain. Going to one knee as it seemed like his entire body was set on fire. He resisted the urge to scream.

 

Then his spine tingled again. Throwing himself back he rolled again, making sure he travelled over a blaster rifle so at least he would be armed. Coming up from the roll to one knee he started firing one handed immediately, no real aiming, just firing at the moving form of his opponent... His other hand questing through a nearby troopers webbing for thermal detonators. Found. Good.

 

Armed. Four seconds. He threw. Then threw himself, rolling again so he was behind the cover of some supply crates...

 

(1)

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"Crap!" Brad thought as mysterious ships burst out of hyperspace and into the fray of the battle. The Empire and the Alliance, even if they worked together, were outnumbered. Staying in this fight would be suicide, of that much Brad was certain. Reaching out, the young Jedi felt the Force drawing him towards Mechis III's surface. There had to be a secret weapon there, he surmised.

 

Opening his comm unit to all people present in the battle, Brad called out, "Get to the planet's surface, we stand a better chance there than up here. We have to go were we can survive while we still can, staying up here is suicide. If you want to live get to the ground." With that, Brad changed course and sped off towards the planet. The battle still raged above him as he dodged stray lasers, pushing his small X-Wing's engines as far as it could go.

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(OOC: Edited at Gren's request.)

 

IC: *Several things happen at once. The destructive Force shockwave of untold billions of deaths sweeps over Geki, almost knocking him unconscious with its vividness. Secondary to this, two blaster bolts slam into him, followed swiftly by the loss of power in the craft. Geki is blind, save for the Force. Finally, a thermal detonator explodes some ten feet away from the Sith Master, knocking him to the ground.

 

Fighting oblivion, Geki struggles to his feet, drawing upon the extermination of billions and using its black symphony to draw energy to himself.

 

Geki struggles forward, the maelstrom in the Force threatening to destroy his already fractured mind, and throws himself into the nearest escape pod.

 

Geki barely manages to close the hatch, barely manages to instruct the pod to launch, before the blackness of genocide untold overwhelms the Sith's fractured mind again and sends him plunging into unconsciousness.

 

The escape pod breaches the atmosphere, Geki huddled in the small emergency craft...*

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http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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He veered sharply away from his course with the very sudden and very violent introduction of this new threat. Making a tight u-turn, he watched the blue streaks streak past, briefly wondering if they were ion blasts that were being fired.

 

He heard the very sudden outburst that called for the grounding of both Imperial and Alliance parties.

 

He yanked his ship downward angling toward the planet, before a sudden brief insight hit him with a wave. Could this possibly be the threat that had sent such a shockwave through him, chilling him to his core? Could this be the source of the massive slaughter that had happened it what felt like mere moments? He quickly pulled up and away from the planet.

 

Why would he go to ground if what he was facing was the source of the death of planets. If anything, it was almost like asking for death in his mind. A useless death. He needed time, time to assess just what was going on. He gunned his engine seeking to put distance between himself and this new threat.

 

He opened up his comm system, and began verbally recording what he could see happening to the ships during his flight. If anything, it would give him some idea of what to do next.

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Well, you could always just post something like "OMG GREAT FIC WOW!"
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"Fair enough," Ariane considered, leaning back and closing her eyes in thought. "I fight for the Alliance..."

 

...Because they died.

 

Because everyone you knew died.

 

And even if Tiana died for the Jedi, it's still their fault but it was the Empire that killed her...

 

"...Because the Empire killed my family," she said at long last, staring at Ki. "Because Coruscant was a warground. And they killed my husband and they killed my daughters and..." She grinned cockily. "I'm a bit older than I look... you could say I fight for the Republic because I can..."

 

Everything went dark.

 

The only light was the dim glow of Ki's ciggarette.

 

Something brought about a headache...

 

...Something screams...

 

Ariane's eyes narrowed. Somewhere, there was a lot of pain...

 

It wasn't that long until her comm buzzed.

 

"Get to the planet's surface, we stand a better chance there than up here. We have to go where we can survive while we still can, staying up here is suicide. If you want to live get to the ground."

 

It hit.

 

"We've been invaded!" She quickly unlocked his cell, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him up. "This interrogation will have to wait. Right now, we've got orders... your ship's closest..."

 

They fled down the halls to Ki's ship, passing no one, seeing nothing. But outside there were a lot more ships and all of the other ships were dark too. The only lights came from the planet and small ships and pods...

 

They took off from the Hand of Justice...

 

((I rather thought you might like to live. Get us down to Mechis...))

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((if this is not a post made in RP, I forgot to log out.))

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Black was eager to listen as Ariane talked on, interested in finding something, anything he could play to to aid in an escape. It sounded like she had no real stock in the Republic itself, but rather fought for it because they weren't the ones that had screwed her over. He was just about to interject when the everything went dark. At first there was the panic that came from sudden change, but soon Black felt comfortable, the painfully bright lights diminished. He could hear some low chatter from her comm. Stuff was going down, and Black didn't like it when he wasn't the one that was making the moves. The door to the cell opened, Ariane quickly grabbing him by the arm before rushing out of the room.

 

"We've been invaded! This interrogation will have to wait. Right now, we've got orders... your ship's closest..."

 

On the way out, he grabbed his coat and the bag they had thrown all of his stuff into before they could log it away as evidence. In stride he threw his coat back on and started putting everything back in it's place. After reequipping himself, he pulled out his lighter. Normally, the light wouldn't be much, but in complete darkness it was enough to help him avoid stumbling around like some blind beggar. When they got to the Trushot, he was quick to jump in the pilot seat.

 

Where to go, where to go. The first place would be planet side, but that doesn't exactly sound too promising. The rebs and imps are staying here because they've already committed themselves to this place, but I'm not buying it. Once they're on the planet, they'll be too vulnerable to orbital bombardment then swept. No, we have to get out of here. If whoever is invading was good enough to take out the ships, they'll know to push them to the planet.

 

With the ship out of the hanger, Black started punching buttons, plotting a hyperspace route away from this mess. Ariane would no doubt protest to being taken somewhere else, but to Black there was no other option. His right arm left the arm rest, now pointing at her. Heaven erupted from it's holster with the precoded series of muscle movements.

 

I know you wanted to go planet side, but that isn't exactly the wisest of moves at the moment. And djarek player could tell you that. We need to get away from here, if you're so inclined to live. If you really want to stay, I can put you in an escape pod and aim you that way.

 

There was no way he'd let her leave now that he had the chance to escape. Going planet side was suicide, of this he was certain. Once the sequence was entered correctly and they were safe in hyperspace, he let the gun return to it's holster. He pulled out two cigarettes and lit them, offering one to her.

 

((Next post is yours in Space or La Mareaguerra.))

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"Admiral!"

 

It was the sensor officer that spoke with alarm this time. "We have 137 new contacts, capital size!"

 

Onderin allowed himself to feel the fear that pervaded the situation, but only for a moment. He could let the crew see him as anything less than calm, controlled, and courageous. "Identify."

 

He didn't really need to hear the sensor officer make his answer after a quick ship identification match in the databanks. The Jedi Master had not yet begun his Jedi training or joined the Alliance the last time the Arach'tar had attacked, but he had studied their campaign intensely, knowing that the possibility of their return could take place.

 

"They're Arach'tar. Sir, we're reporting hull breaches. We're being boarded."

 

Once again, the Admiral set his jaw and his gaze grew steely. So passes the Sword of Justice, he thought. He jammed the comm and spoke to the entire fleet. "Abandon ships! Set your self-destruct systems. If we can take any of them with us, we'll have earned a victory!"

 

Just then, the power went out.

 

He would have recited the series of codewords that set the self destruct system for the Super Star Destroyer that was his flagship, but he realized it wouldn't work anyway. "Come with me," he told the bridge crew. Imperials were notorious for having a huge escape pod available in the Admiral's quarters aboard such ships as these. Onderin hadn't bothered to replace it with something more useful, and now he was able to fit the entire bridge crew inside.

 

A moment later, the escape pod jettisoned down towards the surface of Mechis III, its backup systems being designed to work even without conventional power.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Even the Arach'tar were caught off guard when the planet Mechis III vanished, taking with it a few survivors who had managed to go planetside, but it was of no matter, the alien invaders had achieved their goals. Hunter class ships in kill teams scoured the combat zone, destroying any smaller ships that had been unable to make it to the planet's surface. Alone and surrounded, the shipyards were destroyed at range.

 

A ship, apparently oblivious to the interdiction fields, attempts to flee, only to be destroyed in a hail of fire. Another, seemingly intent on making a suicide run, meets a simliar fate. When there are no survivors left, several hyperspace tugs jump in, latching on to the captured ships so that they can be taken to a null zone and studied, where comms cannot reach or be sent.

 

Their mission complete, the Arach'tar return to hyperspace.

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((OOC: Indeed. Well I've sent a Pm explaining my actions Geki. Grudge match someday!))

 

The man who was Gren realised that that had only been the first of many waves of pain. Several more swept over him. His blaster fire stuttered to an end as he fell once more to the deck. This time their was no vision. No way to escape. Just the pain.

 

The loss of power had meant the loss of the magcon field. Thankfully the hangar door had been closing due to the riot or they would all be dead. THat he could open. But the interior blast door was closed... And nothing short of a proton torpedoe would open it. That would just kill any Alliance soldiers trying to get in.

 

Gritting his teeth he set himself against the pain. He could feel it. Fear and Horror. People were dying in their hundreds. No thousands. He had to get off this ship. Forcing himself to stand he looked for his opponent. Gone. Good. The man who was Gren hadn't relished finishing this fight right now. Maybe some other time. When he actually remembered who that man was.

 

Shaking a huddling mechanic until he responded the man who was Gren got him up. And started directing him to get as many up and onboard one of the shuttles as possible. It really was time to leave. The few remaining pilots in the hangar getting into fighters. Snagging several he diorected them to start powering up some shuttles. Fighters wouldn't get the most people out.

 

Starting the power-up sequence of his own fighter he gathered the pilots of the remaining ships.

 

"Follow me. We'll head to the surface. To pick up any escape pods that might get away. From their we'll decide on our next move. Shields up everywhere. We're going to need to blow our way out. "

 

As the last of the surviving soldiers was loaded onto a transport the man who was Gren lifted off. Activating his shields. The other fighters did the same.

 

Turning they all began firing lasers at the hangar door. Unril their wasn't anything left. Punching his thrusters he blasted out of the hangar and into space. And he swore. And he continued to swear. It looked like a good hundred or so ships of a design so alien he couldn't cmprhend it were here.

 

The pilots of the Alliance and the Empire were fighting a desperate semi-co-operational battle and were losing quite badly.

 

Activating a general frequency he commed in,

 

"All surviving fighters. This is Commander Gren Sairdonga-"

 

Or at least it used to be. Would Gren have this little of an idea what they were dealing with and how to deal with it? He doubted it.

 

"Retreat to the surface. Follow those escape pods down. Protect them. Protect any damaged fighters. Get as many people down to the surface alive as possible. Don't bother fighting these things. Their are too many and they're too powerful. May the force be with us. Out."

 

Matching action to word he punched his thrusters and screamed towards the planet. Following an escape pod down. A fighting retreat was fought. With great casualties on their side. But ind the end most of the force broke through the atmosphere of the planet. Most importantly several of the shuttles made it down. With them at least they could actually recover some people.

 

Patching a channel through to the small armada of fighters and shuttles he gave some quick orders.

 

"All shuttles, head to the deck. Find landed escape pods and pick up any survivors. Take a four fighter escort with you. Everyone else trench run to the far end of the planet, Get out to space, Get beyond the interdiction field and head to hyperspace. Imperial fighters I suggest you head back to the Imperial Base. From their get instructions from your officers. Out."

 

With that the man who was Gren tagged along with one of the empty shuttles from the Sword of Justice. Looking through both the force and his sensors for the escape pod that held the Admiral. If indeed the man had escaped the carnage above.

 

"Find the Admiral's escape pod."

 

He commed directly to the shuttle.

 

"Already on it sir. We have an Imperial Grand Admiral's personal escape shuttle lon scope. Since their wasn't any Imperial Grand Admiral here it must have been the one from the Sword Of Justice. We'l have them in less then three minutes."They replied.

 

Patching onto the Alliance emergency channel he was hit with a flood of terrified voices from the escape pods.

 

"Alright everyone pipe down-"

 

It took some time but they quieted.

 

"Shuttles are being sent to get you all off the deck. For now just do what you can to survive. If you want to help us and yourselves contact a shuttle and start talking. Out."

 

He'd done all he could. Now all he could do was wait and follow the dhuttle down to the Admiral...

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The extra-dimensional jump beyond otherspace made, Mechis III vanishes, mercifully with the jump taking off just before the commander's planned evacuation of the various civilians, command crews, and so forth. Curiously, despite his orders to send the technicians down to hotwire the planet's jump system only having *just* been given, the planet moved on its own.

 

Deciding to puzzle this out later, the Commander smiles. Mechis III escaped the battle.

 

*****

 

That settled, the commander, breathes a sigh of relief, wondering where in space they were now- and how many people were able to survive. Commands are given to the various Imperial officers to make accomidations for the survivors on both the Imperial and Rebel side of the battle, and stepping up to the command console, he taps it once, and sends out a comm heard through out the planet's orbit.

 

"This is Commader Gilleon Pleed, head of the Imperial forces and governor-general of Mechis III. I am ordering a stand down with the rebels forces seeking refuge on this planet and asking all commanding officers to meet with me- Imperial and Reb-- Alliance alike."

 

The commander puts the comm down and wipes the sweat off his brows. What happened at Mechis was too close for comfort, and still left him wondering at the dues ex machina that saved them. He turns back to the technicians he ordered to hotwire the place.

 

"You," he states in a crisp order. "Find what ever you need to get into the planet's working systems and let me know what system is there, how it activated, and who put it there. It wasn't a hyperspace jump we made," he adds with a relieved sigh. The technicians leave and Pleed turns to the rest. "I'll need to speak with Admiral Starlisk and see what we can do about this. A truce is definitely in order for the time being." Biting his lips at the lost shipyards, Pleed gives one last order, looking heavenword.

 

"A.and of course," he says with a gulp, dreading the reply, "his majesty will need to be informed of what happened here."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Onderin received the comm from the Empire as he was rounding up the survivors. He was pleased to see that a good number of troopers and other fleet personnel had made it off the ships, but the casualties inflicted by the Arach'tar were greater than he had expected to lose over the course of the Battle for Mechis III.

 

During the process, which had been tense enough without knowing what the Empire would do next, Onderin had nevertheless finally gotten a chance to realize what had happened. He looked inward and remembered the moment he had found out. The pain that had stabbed at him in that moment had been immediately pushed aside. He was one that had gotten so used to battle that he was somewhat insensitive to death as felt by the Force, so it had not affected him for the moment.

 

Now, however, even just thinking about it revealed the pain that was echoing through the Force. He had been much closer to Coruscant when it had been destroyed, and the nature of that conflict had been powerful, trillions killed in a nanosecond. The deaths of all those in the Corellian system had been a little more spread out and lesser in magnitude, but the pain was great. Many had been maimed before being killed, and their terror and agony rode the waves of the life energies of the Force like a parasite riding a new host.

 

Suddenly Onderin felt weak as he experienced that pain, and he dropped to one knee. His stomach threatened to rebel, and he shut his eyes tight. The home of his youth had been annhiliated. Nothing was left. His parents were dead. The friends of his childhood were, too, unless they had since scattered across the galaxy.

 

Immediately from grief came a moment of anger. The emotion welled up in him, and he let it. The Arach'tar will have to fight one hell of a war to keep these deaths from being avenged, he thought. A rock beside him suddenly combusted.

 

Suddenly he shook his head, and with a deep breath expelled the hate that had been boiling up inside him. He closed his eyes and took several more deep breaths. Yes, the Arach'tar must be turned back. It is my duty as a Jedi to preserve life, and my duty as the Admiral to preserve the galaxy. The Arach'tar are evil, even more evil than the Sith, perhaps. They cannot be allowed to prevail, he thought. And it would start by unifying the rest of the galaxy.

 

Which brought him full circle back to the comm he had received a few minutes before. He glanced up at the sky, which was the unnatural blur of hyperspace ((I think)), and pulled himself back to his feet. He considered calling for a personal guard to take him to the Empire's meeting place, but decided against it. He would go to search for peace, for a truce against a common foe, and taking a personal guard with him would make an impression he would rather avoid.

 

Then, alone, Onderin headed for the meeting place. He carried his lightsaber in a place that it wouldn't be easily seen. Unless things went horribly wrong, he wouldn't have to even consider drawing it. But there was a possibility that a few Arach'tar had managed to get on the planet before it jumped, and he didn't want to chance a meeting without a weapon.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Brad had managed to land on the planet before it shot off into hyperspace, but his X-Wing was damaged. Something hit him on the way down, and it knocked out his ship computer and his droid, hopefully temporarily. Annoyed with his battle scorched ship, the Jedi Knight felt for familiar presences that had also made it to the planet before it went off into hyperspace. He quickly recognized Admiral Starlisk's Force signature, heading off to some location. Perhaps the strange ships that attacked them had made it to the planet's surface and the Starlisk was going to do what he could to stop them.

 

Deciding that sticking with his fellow Jedi was the best option, Brad ran off to intercept the Admiral. Using the Force, the young man quickly intercepted Starlisk. "Do you have any idea what that was, or rather, who that was? If never seen anything like that, surely they were the cause of that great disturbance in the Force. Wait, where are you off to?"

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Onderin didn't stop walking, but regarded Jedi Warren. "We were attacked by the Arach'tar," he said. "I'm sure you know the name. They are a species of intergalactic invaders of great power and evil. It took the combined strength of the galaxy to drive them off last time they came, before I was in the Alliance."

 

The Admiral paused. "I'm going now to meet the Imperial commanders for just this reason. Anything less than a unified galaxy will fall to the Arach'tar. The disturbance you felt through the Force," he explained, his voice almost faltering, "was the complete destruction of the Corellian system."

 

He brought his attention back to walking and broke eye contact, trying to hide his emotions with the simple-minded task of reaching the rendezvous point. He gave a half-hearted attempt to hide the emotions in the Force, too, but lacked the determination to do a very good job. While he had trained on the technique extensively with one of his apprentices, Sabian Devanus, it still took too much concentration for him to care to do it now.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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The Commander greets the admiral with a crisp salute, warily eyeing the guards chosen to accompany him, and shifting over to his own returning soldiers for a moment of comfort. He understood the Admiral's decision, though he still felt instinctively wary around someone he knew would be his enemy if not for the unique circumstances that trust them together. Still, honor and duty, as well as survival spurred him on.

 

"Admiral Starlisk, I am Commander Gilleon Pleed of His Majesty's army." The grizzled, old, and dignified commander looks Starlisk up and down. "You fought with interesting tactics back there. I regret not being able to see the battle to its conclusion." Odd sounding, yes, but it was a compliment, and a note of Starlisk's skill. "Still," he adds, "I think we have bigger concerns."

 

The commander brings up data images of the Arach'tar's sudden appearance, their attack methods, and a brief analysis of known ships. The data is reviewed and put into a small disc, which Pleed gives to Starlisk for his own analysis.

 

"I've heard of these beasts before," Pleed notes with distaste. "I'd just entered the Imperial army, working under Emperor Darth Heretic, so they made a distinct impression on us. They did an awful lot of damage." Sighing, the Commander continues, awkwardly. Though dignified and proud, he still found himself on unsure ground before the Rebel's top commander. "I've received orders from the Emperor himself to do what I can for you. He believes that after the destruction of Corellia and now this attack, we need to work together. We'll be busy recouperating here, but I imagine you'll wish to get back to Gala and where else to inform your people of what happened. Is there anything else you'll need besides transportation?"

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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