Corellia

[Shadrach]

The target and one cohort drifted out the back door. A trigger went off inside Shadrach's head, and he was aware. The other two danced obliviously on the main floor. Shadrach made his way out a side entrance and circled around towards the back. The alleyway was dark, except for a red service light over the door, and the ambient light of the city, mostly held back by the height of the surrounding buildings. They alleyway was apparently empty, except for a scuffle behind the giant commercial waste bin.

 

Fornication. Delightful.

 

Shadrach crept towards his supine target and her paramour, keeping the bin between them. His footfalls were soft and easily drowned out by the lovers' rhythm. As he sidled up to them, he could see enough of their limb-flailing profiles to determine body position. He paused a moment, briefly touching the mask to make sure it still concealed his features. Then, as he heard a collective gasp from around the bin's corner, he spun, planting one hand over the prone target's mouth and the other on her perched lover's collar. With a burst of pressure he forced her jaw into her rear cranial nerves and her lover's face into the wall.

 

The lover slumped back against the bin, face caked with blood. The target struggled limply, groaning softly into Shadrach's palm before passing out. He checked both for pulse: Weak in the bystander, but steady. The target was strong. She would probably wake up in an hour, but friends would be looking for her before then. He didn't have long.

 

Shadrach drew his survival knife and went to work, carving multi-lingual obscenities about her sexual proclivities into her forehead, cheeks, chest, and arms. When that was done, he spied the contraceptive, still warm and slick with its recent use. His nose wrinkled as he delicately turned the device inside out, guiding it and its contents back into its intended destination.

 

A lasting mark, indeed.

 

Shadrach cleaned his knife on her coat and left the alley. Two blocks away in a private restroom he peeled the latex and feathers from his rebreather and returned his clubbing gear to the merchant's bag. He washed his gloved hands of any residual blood or seed his eyes might have missed and made his way back to the ship with a spring in his step.

 

That was”¦ oddly liberating.

[Bad karma]

A large vehicle pulls up alongside Shadrach, the door opening to reveal two dark figures. Rather then reaching out and pulling him in as many would expect they just raised their weapons and hit him with a stun bolt which left him incapacitated.

 

_

 

The sharp sting of a backhand would wake him up, a man in a uniform with odd symbols upon it standing before him. Shadrach was restrained and his head would surely be hurting by this point in time. The most obvious question of all quickly escaped the man's lips”¦”

[Shadrach]

Mmm, right. Consequences.

 

”œHerdrich Industrial Supply Company, Thyrsus. I'm here on vacation.”

[Bad karma]

The uniformed man back handed Shadrach once more, sneering at the man with utter contempt. He turned his back upon the restrained prisoner, looking to the guards for a moment before one of them left the room. Turning back to face his prisoner, his visage had softened yet traces of malice could still be found.

 

”œYou lie, boy.”

[Shadrach]

(OOC: Since now I'm just playing with myself , I seized approval to "Brock Samson" my way out for continuity and move on. Apologies for the absurdity of what must follow.)

 

Shadrach stared up at his interrogator with a smirk. Behind his back, he was working his thumbs out of joint.

 

"Nonsense. I've been working for Herdrich for years. Now are you going to shoot a random tourist on leave, or are you going to let me know what's going on here?"

 

The man snarled and drew back to smack him again. As he did so, the pistol left Shadrach's temple. He lunged forward, catching the stun cuffs on the back of the chair. With his thumbs dislocated, they slid off, scuffing and shocking Shadrach's contorted fingers as they fell. His forehead slammed brutally into the interrogator's nose, breaking it. The pistol discharged wildly, putting smoking potholes in the chair and walls.

 

With his arms now free, Shadrach drove an elbow into the man's trachea, roaring as he cracked his thumbs back into place. The guard was startled, and fired a few haphazard shots from the hip. Shadrach directed the staggered interrogator into the line of fire. When his human cover dropped, he rammed the frantic guard into and then up the wall with the heel of his hand under the man's chin. There was an awkward snap and the man went limp.

 

Shadrach seized the blaster rifle as it fell and intercepted the second guard, answering his charge into the room with a rifle butt to the side of his knee. The man landed hard, and Shadrach was upon him.

 

---

 

Shadrach quickly gathered his things from a table in the adjacent room and swept the facility. It was several interrogation rooms attached to a small safe house, otherwise unoccupied, and probably meant specifically for this kind of work. Massaging his seared wrists and sore thumbs, he made his way back to his ship.

 

Where's Viktor?"

[Sakuda Iron demon]

Corellia, home to a people known for their luck, wit, and tendency towards smuggling. However, the Corellian system also harboured a dark secret, and like all dark secrets, this one would come to light in the worst way.

 

As always, they came without warning, with the purpose of making war. This time, however, they brought their god with them. Rev'Nullem, the machine god incarnate, would oversee the final invasion of one of the last free galaxies in the universe. The malevolent deity had made it clear that the invasion effort would not end until the enemy was wiped out, or the Arach'tar were extinct. This time, there would be no survivors.

 

Rev'Nullem traveled with a fleet befitting a divine presence, with a thousand capital ships and countless warships and fighters, but even this was not enough for his glory. The machine god sought an ancient technological terror that had been built before human memory. Rev'Nullem had come to claim Centerpoint.

 

When the Arach'tar ships arrived at the Corellian system, such was the size of their fleet that Corellia was plunged into unnatural night. In a terrible rain of concentrated energy, Corellia is obliterated, an entire half of the planet disintegrated before the rest of it cracked apart. When all life signs were gone, the Arach'tar moved to the next planet, Selonia. The process repeated itself as the Arach'tar moved through Drall, Talus, and Tralus. With all life in the Corellian system destroyed, the Arach'tar seized Centerpoint unopposed. Rev'Nullem himself entered the circuitry and systems of the massive construct, possessing it wholly under his will. Their objective achieved, the Arach'tar return to space to plan their next move.

[Adenn Galaar]

The Silent Prowler dropped out of hyperspace in the remains of the Corellian system. Adenn starred in shock at the sight before him. The system was nothing but rubble. There weren't words to describe it. His mouth had fallen open. His sensor's picked up no signs of life or ships. The entire system was an asteroid field. He used his vid cam to record the footage, saving it to his computer. He began flying through the rubbage looking for anything to that would alert him to what had caused this catostrophy.

[Hawker]

Mrakhh awoke. The drugs seem to have worn off. The togorian remembered how he had been beaten in the fight before being taken captive. He decided it was time to escape. He couldn't tell exactly how long he had been knocked out, but he was thirsty enough to realize that it had been a while. He also realized that another captive was in the cage with him. But he was knocked out cold.

 

Wasting no more time observing, he started trying to bend the bars of the cage. The bars were quite strong and Mrakhh wasn't sure if he could bend them enough. He realized that it would take in a while. As he started working, Mrakhh looked at his fingers that were now only stubs. With renewing anger, he started bending the bars with more anger and strength. If he kept this up, he might be able to actually escape soon.

[Adenn Galaar]

As Adenn was watching the rubble float by when he heard a creaking sound from the compartment behind him. He slowly got up and unholstered his blaster. He opened the door and brought his blaster up. He saw one of his captives trying to escape the cage that was supposed to be invincible. He quickly stunned the beast and brought another round of medication. The monster was hooked up to an IV that would constantly pump the medication into his system. He would be knocked out until he was taken off the IV.

 

They were both transferred to new, seperate cages, hooked up to survailence systems that would allow Adenn to watch them at all time. Now that he knew they were trying to escape he would make sure they didn't.

[Adenn Galaar]

Adenn finished recording the footage that he wanted and shut off his hood cam. He checked his security cams and was pleased to see that both of his passengers were still sedated. He turned his ship around and burst into hyperspace towards Coruscant.

[Delta73]

Delta's Ragtag Armada, blasted out of hyperspace on a mission. They all knew what they were there for, to find pieces...of the Ach'acar.

 

"Now"

 

Aboard the Marie, Delta said the order and they began looking through the ruins...

[Survivor's Foundation]

Somewhere in the outskirts of the Corellian system--what used to be the Corellian system, that is--a set of seven spacecraft left hyperspace. The first six of these were single-burn probes, bullet-like craft that bristled with sensors and comm equipment. The last of these craft was a boxy, shapeless monstrosity that served only to receive the transmissions from the probes and relay the information to the Esperanza via holocomm.

 

One of the probes traveled to each of the murdered Brothers of the Corellian system, thoroughly studying the artificial asteroid fields for clues as to what caused the destruction of the planets. Even if the fleet that had destroyed the planets was long gone, it might have been possible for them to detect evidence that would allow them to determine the nature of the weapons that had been used: exhaust from propellant gases, ionized particles from laser-based weapons, and other minute traces that some of the military-minded researchers with the Foundation knew of.

 

The three that went to the vicinity of Talus and Tralus all took flight paths that would allow them to pass by Centerpoint Station. It would have been impossible for the Arach'tar to not detect the craft if they had a presence nearby, considering the vast power of their sensors. However, these craft served only one purpose: to collect as much data as they could before their power was depleted or they were destroyed.

[Delta73]

"Its a Failure"

 

Delta slumped in his seat on board the Marie.

 

All these months searching for nothing!

Delta scowled, "Allrights Lads were going home..."

The Ragtag fleet quickly cleaned up thier base of operations and jumped into hyperspace...

[The Black Sun Armada]

50 Black Sun capital ships burst out of hyperspace and fanned out to surround the Centerpoint station. Soon after they began their diversionary assult.

[Sakuda Iron demon]

The Black Sun armada came to Centerpoint as cattle to the slaughter. Outnumbered four to one, and outgunned even one on one, what motivated the crazed Black Sun commanders to march blindly to their doom was unfathomable. Maybe they came to the nihilistic conclusion that their death was inevitable. The galaxy would never know.

 

It started with a rain of fire. The trumpets of fallen angels bringing the wrath of hell to the sinful sounded as mighty rail cannons accellerated pulse rounds at unimaginable speeds. The high velocity rounds smashed into the Black Sun ships, leaving giant gaping holes. SFEC beam weapons literally sawed ships in half.

 

That was when Rev'Nullem entered the battle. With a swipe of his hand, capital ships flew into each other in devastating collisions. Other ships found their crews desperately clawing their eyes out and roaming the corridors.

 

The armada commander, blood dripping from his ears, issued a command that all crew were to be crucified, starting with him. His order was met with roaring cheers, and the crew set happily to the work of affixing each other to the ships. The last few tied themselves to utility tubing and went bungie jumping out the airlock into the deep black. The nav system then set course for Coruscant of its own accord, a gruesome trophy of Arach'tar might.

 

The Black Sun Armada was annihilated.

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

The last is an illegal OHK. The action breaks off with the post of Rev'Nullem appearing.

[Dagon]

OOC((Hold for now, we're resolving this in the mod forum))

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

As Silas gave his approval for Sakuda's actions, the entirety of Sakuda's post stands.

[BLACK1]

Alone in the cockpit of his once familiar freighter, the man who had found himself to bear the title of Emperor sat. The console dimmed, all that could be seen in this black of space was the soft orange glow of his cigarette. More than a dozen filters lay lifeless and used at his feet, ash and scorch marks lining the dull metal panels. He remained hidden beneath his dark garb, protected against the verse by nothing more than the blackness. Callous, unfeeling black, a black all could look upon and see absolutely nothing.

 

For a long while he just sat derelict, letting no electronic or sonic signal escape his vessel and give alarm to his presence. Amassed the enemy fleet floated, idly circling their precious weapon of shuttering destruction. It wasn't the station's potential power that disturbed him, but that it was not him pulling the trigger. Time and time again the foreign warriors had proven their skill, and he had been there. He alone had felt the piercing gaze this devil cast, and he alone was the one to stare back.

 

I am Groot it.

 

One last drag and the still burning filter felt to the floor. In an instant three quarters of the Imperial fleet erupted from the black, spread throughout the sphere of conflict. Some came high, some below, but not a single ship arrived on a similar plane as the enemy's ships. The had come out of hyperspace far too close to the ships, but that was the plan. All batteries prepped in transit, they were ready and firing the second they came into view. Using his information, the fleet had already assigned targets ten seconds after exiting hyperspace. Green and red trails, the soft blue of missiles, all illuminated the black space. Black pulled his freighter in line with the fighter line, headed directly toward the biggest ship in the fleet.

[Yue]

From the bridge of a star destroyer a pair of men stood. One was pale and tall. He carried a long blade on his back. Green covered his eyes. The other was hooded and red eyes shone brightly from beneath is fabric. Motionless they watched as the empire began their strike. A low tone was heard from the pale warrior.

 

"Bring in the fleet. Prepare the boarding parties. Do not worry about the causalities. It has been taken care of. Fire at the largest vessel. Dispatch the fighters."

 

 

The empire fleet was suddenly reinforced by a large smattering of fifty star destroyers and a one hundred and fifty mix of dreadnought carriers, lancers, and other assorted ships. The barrage that followed was as massive as it was powerful. The damage that would be done was going to be amazing.

[Sgt. Slaughter]

Soon after, the Imperial armada was joined by the Rebel fleet, the hundreds of warships and cruisers that found itself in a tenuous alliance with the men that had previously been their mortal enemies. One of these, the Hammer of God, was unseen””the commander of the fleet had decided that it was best to hold that monstrosity in reserve, out of sight from the eyes of the Empire and Arach'tar, until the battle was joined. The fighting men of the Rebel fleet were surprised to see that the Empire had chosen to penetrate deeply into the Corellian system--almost certainly to deny the Tinheads the advantage of controlling Centerpoint Station--and a microjump was quickly made to correct their error and position their vessels along the flanks of the many, many Imperial squadrons.

 

The Wolf Spiders, operating on their own terms, appeared to depart from the battle once the Rebel fleet had taken up its positions. There was a brief moment in which the Rebellion's interdictors scrambled their gravity well projectors, realigning their beams to many trajectories that seemed to serve no purpose before settling on those that covered their flanks and rear. While salvos were traded between the native and alien fleets, a squadron of LightStealth-18 Reconnaissance Ships--incredibly stealthy, incredibly perceptive vessels that served as ideal scouts--slipped away from the Rebel fleet and maintained a perimeter that would allow them to detect any incoming ships before they even made contact with the interdiction field.

 

On one of the Star Defenders, the Prometheus, Captain Bruce Slaughter was hurriedly finishing what would have ordinarily been a day's worth of preparation. There were weapons to clean, armor to fit, systems to calibrate, databases to download to their goggles, new equipment to test””some tech puke had just developed an ionized blade to fit into their gauntlets, a weapon that was proven to be devastating against machines in close quarters””comlink channels to organize, battle plans to run through, and somewhere in the middle of all that, find time to grab a quick bite to eat and prepare messages for loved ones.

 

Somehow, the noncoms had even managed to squeeze in time to deliver a pep talk to their men. Slaughter was privileged enough to catch one of these. He didn't understand why some people felt a need for one of these encouraging and sometimes vulgar speeches, probably never would, but he had to admit that some of his sergeants were artists with their profanity.

 

”œYou know where we are. Corellia””or what's left of it. Where it all started. Where the Tinheads took Centerpoint and used it to blow up half the Rim. Personally, I don't give a shit what it is””it could be God's own kill-everything-that-moves machine or His Very Own Double-Headed Dildo; we're not gonna let them have it! What we're gonna let them have is a belly full of lead, and a kick back to whatever hellhole they came from! Am I right, Talons?”

[Sakuda Iron demon]

Sakuda looked upon the amassing forces from within Centerpoint, what was left of his biological mass musing on the situation.

 

It has been a long road to this point. How many centuries ago did the Great Purge begin? How many battles had been fought in the name of the Infinite God-Machine? No matter what the outcome, this battle would be the last. What the biologicals called Centerpoint had been in ways that its original creators could never imagine, beyond the ken of mortal understanding of machines. If Centerpoint fired again, it would be the end of all things, and if it didn't then the Great Purge will have failed on the precipice of victory. Either would suffice for the venerable warrior, the time of roles had ended.

 

"Make ready the fleet and engage the enemy, we need only hold them them until the station is ready. Set the zero shields to full power, they may deploy another planet killer. Also, mind their gravity wells, they may be used to precision deploy ships."

 

The Arach'tar ships took up defensive stances, using their rail guns to obliterate many of the enemy's smaller craft in an instant, while SECs punished the shields of enemy capital ships.

 

A final battle, one to call my own.

 

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Elsewhere, Rev'Nullem watched over the petty attempts of the mortals, the last thrashings of dieing animal before the end. Rev'Nullem's first Iron Demon, Sakuda, had promised him a weapon that would end the Great Purge, and that weapon had been completed within the bowels of this space station. The Inevitable Truth would at last be realized, in undeniable fashion.

[BLACK1]

The signals had been routed, passing through one ship and relayed on to another. If they had known the Emperor had been on such a small, vulnerable vessel it would become their prime target. It gave the added bonus of giving the enemy no real defined target to go for. All the capital class ships present from the Imperial forces were all roughly the same size, and none had communication signals originating from them. However, if the machine beasts could keep their heads mid battle, in time they could trace the signal.

 

The yellow light flashed on his console, an incoming message. He flipped the switch to record the message, then a second to resend the message to a dozen other ships.

 

"Sir, sensors show the station is powering its shields, they know we're hiding our big guns. Even with the assistance of the rebels and Dark Watch, I believe the Arach'tar will be more than willing to get leave their fleet for dead if it means they can get the station out of harms way. We need to do something quick, and hard."

 

In transit to the Arach'tar fleet command ship, Black pulled his ship around. The switches flipped, he sent another message to a near by squadron of fighters.

 

Admiral, just keep the ships in tight with theirs so they can't use the station against us. Direct sub-channel 4B-2248-0C12 control to my uplink and direct the Solo's to that channel. Until further notice, double up on big ships, leave the little ones to advance on you. Convert a majority of your power to forward firing lasers and forward shields. Deploy all fighters and send them to either engage enemy fighters or bum rush Centerpoint. Let them think we've found an opening. They'll turn their attention from our ships to the remaining fighters.

 

Now flying parallel to the station, Black eyed the sides, looking for the best place for entry. The station was massive. If he didn't gain entry close to the reactor, he'd die of old age before he could get there. It had to be someplace close to the central core.

 

Access: Sub-Channel 4B-2248-0C12 Admiral, can you spot the shield generator above the midsection on the aft side, just below the bay? Good. On my mark, three or four of you break cloak and direct all your fire on that spot. Order the other Solo's to do the same on similar locations throughout the station. And I want a squadron of fighters to accompany on a quick run.

 

A small squadron of fighters from one of the non-cloaked ships fell behind him, ducking and weaving through stray fire.

 

This is insane. This is stupid. He thought, his heart beating to escape his chest. But godamn this is going to be fun.

 

Just parallel to the station now he pushed his freighter as fast as she could go, his fighters right on his tail. There would be point defense lasers firing at him, perhaps even a couple hundred enemy fighters blowing away his men left and right. Didn't matter. All that mattered was pulling this off.

 

Access: Sub-Channel 4B-2248-0C12 Admiral, Fire.

[Cadio Sikaot]

As the Rebel fleet burst out of hyperspace Cadio stood from the command chair and moved towards the forward viewport watching the battle already unfolding. After the initial sensor report a young officer came over carrying a smaller report. Apparently there were ships giving off a strange reading that fed straight to Centerpoint itself. The shild ship barricade was so strong that no matter how much of an onslaught the Imperial fleet laid downthey wouldn't reach Centerpoint without first going through the strange ships.

 

"Commander, concentrate all fire on those shield ships. Fire at will."

[Moon Knight]

Flicker.

 

Where there had been open space a moment before, now there was a ship. It was a personal ship, not one belonging to the military factions that were warring for the fate of the galaxy hereabouts. Rather, it was a modified YT-2000 Stock Light Freighter with enough advancements to be illegal by the standards of either of the military factions, though a scan of the ship could hardly reach that conclusion.

 

Its pilot was the noted bounty hunter ShadowFett, now bearing the mantle of Moon Knight, a defender of justice in the galaxy. He was here to contribute to the downfall of the Arach'tar in any way he could. He had been told of a certain team that he would be sure to join, were they still in existance....

[Sgt. Slaughter]

Orders were issued from the Prometheus to a small strike force on the far outskirts of the engagement””in fact, that squadron of four ships was far behind the front lines, not even threatened by any ships. The Hammer of God was to fire four HE rounds loaded with baradium cores at different targets, then to perform a brief microjump to avoid return fire””the gravity well projectors that were covering the rear of the combined Rebel/Imperial fleet would be redirected for a short time to allow the maneuver.

 

It went according to drill. The Hammer of God cleared four of its six barrels and its crew commenced reloading. The gravity well projectors were redirected for a few seconds””just long enough for that ship to perform a brief microjump, until it struck the edges of another projector's beam. It was enough, however. The half-second spent in the jump allowed it to relocate nearly a hundred kilometers away from its original position.

 

Without any trail from propellants to mark their positions, the rounds fired would be incredibly difficult to track, and with their prodigious velocities, it would be even more difficult to intercept them. Nevertheless, the communications officer that relayed that firing solution to the Hammer found himself mentally counting down the seconds until their timed fuses automatically detonated the rounds. Even traveling at a considerable fraction of light-speed, it would be over a minute before they reached their targets.

 

Meanwhile, the larger ships of the Rebel fleet began to direct their tractor beams to pin down the Arach'tar anti-starfighter frigates. Only seconds later, those ships were being pummeled by warhead barrages””and yet, no starfighters were successfully making an approach on them.

 

If the captains of the Imperial capital ships only looked down the viewports of their bridges, they might have been surprised and appalled to see the source of this havoc on the enemy frigates. Every five seconds, another five trapped frigates were targeted by these hitchhikers for a precise time-on-target barrage of unguided warheads”¦ and five frigates suffered severe damage or were outright crippled or destroyed.

 

__________________________________________

 

Captain Slaughter had no pep talk to deliver to his men””in fact, his squad leaders advised him against it, suggesting that he leave the close scrutiny of a pre-combat inspection to them. However, in full gear, and simply waiting for the command to board his transport and to prepare to begin the invasion of Centerpoint Station, he found that he had no demands on his time.

 

For the first time since his father died, more than fifteen years ago, he began to pray.

[Exodus]

Liberator

 

• ; Colossus of War
   
  I'm here. We're here. I should””No, we should. We should kill them. Kill all of them, one by one, and slowly. No””Quickly. We will show them what it is that their God has unearthed here. He could have never prepared for this, for us, for me. For, this is more than a War. I have seen War; War on land and sea, I have seen blood run from the wounds of enemies, friends and of Gods, I have seen the dead and bartered with their kind. I have seen worlds devoured in a few shorts of a breath, and cities crumbled under one fist. I have seen, felt and lived pain. For all of this, I have been the Maestro who orchestrated it. I am War, and this is a simple test. Dead or alive, I will wipe out my enemies on this final battlefield. Won't I?

An apathetic respiration saturated the mechanisms to his super vessel. The vapor bleared the platforms and controls of his flesh and blood cockpit but still he sat there with a lifeless stare that was fixated on all of the ships before him. His mind was waspish, forever exempt from the cardinal beliefs of benevolence and pinned to serve as wild and unpredictable. It was the True Source that boiled him so, but his control was more than remarkable. He could feel the people of old here, the children unseasoned, and the creatures who knew not a drop of mercy. It was an awkward stew to brew, but one that now became too common. His own dark wunderkind features still remained as fresh as the dawn, as if he hadn't aged a day after twenty, as if he was truly immortal. He was old, he was young and he knew mercy and discarded it; a touch of everything. Perhaps it didn't mean much, but perhaps it could make all the difference in this battle.

 

Ira remained hushed. Invisible to all, and more prepared than all of them. The breakneck war machine drew alive just then, still cloaked to all but conductive to a power that laid to rest beneath its skeletal frame. The neural network processed and synchronized all relevant information as soon as it was online. Exodus managed a polished smile as he felt the pliant dominance over the weapon within his palms. The ionic muscle and high electrical energy burst to fruition as the pistons squealed with unheard compulsion. Ira pushed forward first from the powerful acceleration and then complimented with sheer alacrity and thruster maneuverability. It came down fast and unloaded upon the scores of Arach'tar ships that were within confrontational distance. Rebel and Imperial ships weren't spared neither, for if their ships were scattered in the path, then their demise would be swift as well. Star-fighters lit up all around and split into halves while others had their hulls torn completely off or their cockpits ripped out into open space. All that was seen was a sporadic trail of static, not even remotely traceable to the source. The feed was live nevertheless within Exodus; so much and so fast but the condensed faculty of the Dark Side and the True Source spiraled to finesse. His reactions were crisp and the response from Ira was on point. He was a blur, no””not even a blur, he was a phantom on the field.

[Onderin Starlisk]

A Lambda shuttle arrived on the scene carrying Admiral Onderin Starlisk, commander of the Alliance war machine. It darted quickly towards the flagship, and Onderin reached it quickly, trying to appraise the battle with eye and sensor.

 

A few minutes later, he reached the bridge and opened a comm to Captain Slaughter. "Captain, give me a sitrep."

[Gren Sairdonga]

Emerging from hyperspace into the midst of a battle can be at best described as disorienting. If unlucky it was sucidal as you could arrive within an enemy formation or in the case of starfighters. Under the guns of an anti-starfighter ship or worse. Luckily Gren and his temporary squadron had avoided that fate. Especailly because of who they escorted.

 

"Alright lads. Find Colonel Colan Dasinoa. He's in charge of Sentinel Squadron. I have some things to do then I'll be right along. With a sense of urgency now men."

 

As they broke ranks and slashed into the battle Gren heeled over. Making his way behind the lambda shuttle he landed smoothly in the hangar bay. All signs of his previous disorientation gone.

 

Hopping out of the fighter he made his way over to Admiral Starlisk. Following alon in his footsteps as they made their way to the bridge. In the brief gap between the request for information and the actual giving of information Gren struck.

 

"Two things boss. First do you really trust the Sith and some bounty hunters if they manage to secure control of centerpoint to not do worse then has already been done with it? Or strike at us? Personally I believe the galaxy is better off with Centerpoint destroyed. And second where do you want me in this mixer?"

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin nodded and gave a quick smile. "I don't trust the Sith either, Gren," he said. "But in this war, we're all going to have to pretend we're on the same side. Besides, the only person who could activate Centerpoint died centuries ago. While the Arach'tar obviously found some way to activate it, it's not likely that we'll be able to replicate the effect."

 

He shrugged. "At least, that's what I'm content to believe for now. Even the Sith wouldn't abuse its power as the Arach'tar have," he went on.

 

"As for the second question... I can't really tell you where I need you until I get the situation," he said. "But if you get out there with your squadron, I'll have orders for you as soon as I can."

 

Glancing at the sensors, Onderin noted that the Hammer of God was doing its job. As far as Alliance superweapons went, it was the best ever, but that was likely because it was also the first.