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Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters


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The Jedi was right, as she had been for the majority of her career.  She had been one of the few ‘Militaristic’ Jedi of the Old Guard. Or at least that was how the Imperial Knights classified the Jedi that had risen to prominence under Darex Trevalian and Onderin Starlisk. How many of them still remained? And how many rotted under the Pillars of Truth in the ruins of triple zero? How many died in the charnel house that was the fall of the Galactic Alliance? Raven could not answer that, though the answer itself was tragic. The Jedi order had thrived under the Galactic Alliance, become content, and how did the Imperial Knights put it? Filled with Prelest? Prelest or not, they had died in droves, and now only a few dozen remained of a once thriving order. Relics of their own time. 

 

“Your words are truth Adenna. If only I had known you in the time of the Remnant, I think we could have prevented much of this. Vinalian?” 

 

She called to the tall Miralukan Knight who stood by the door who brought the Jedi a bundle of clothes and equipment. When the clothes had been passed over, Raven stood and smiled. 

 

“Then let us get you up and dressed. I have no access to the Jedi armouries, but my people carry on many of the old traditions, a tunic at least is there, as well as a issued lightsaber from our armoury. Should you need one before you return to your order.”

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Adenna nodded in acceptance of the offered clothes and weapons. The Jedi Order had plenty of armories and stockpiles for the soldiery that had joined, at least, they had when she was injured. She would need to see what happened to all of the plans and supplies she had been laying out for the last year and a half.

 

Accepting the presence of those with her and simply not caring at this point, she removed the hospital gown and began changing into the tunic. Her mind was occupied on preparing lists of what needed to be done to further prepare the Jedi and Rebel defenses and then launch a strike back at the Sith. She wasn't sure what sort of authority she had left, but until someone came and stopped her, she was going to continue on taking charge as best as she could until she found someone else who was a more capable leader for her to follow.

 

With the clothes on, she began strapping the offered belt and basic equipment on. It wasn't what she was used to, but it would work for now and she was grateful for it. "I hope to get in touch with the Jedi leadership and figure out what is needed. I do truly hope you are maintaining your own authority and haven't given it over to a bunch of squabbling bureaucrats who will just bungle things. The Galaxy has had enough of the pettiness of those who think power is the end goal of everything."

 

With the equipment now in as good a setup as possible, she brushed herself off one last time to make sure she wasn't missing anything. With hardly a pause, she started for the hallway, the first time she had left this room in months. She had spent the last day or so lying in bed thinking as best as she could in her lucid moments. Some of her memories had been hazy, but by drawing on the Force to supplement modern medicine, she began to rapidly improve. Seeing Empress Zinthos here was the final piece to springing back to action. She meant what she had said about lying here too long.

 

She wasn't completely sure how to get out of this medical maze, but she figured that if she kept following the flow of smaller hallways into larger ones, she would eventually find a hub of sorts to get out of here. That, or the Imperials with her would guide her. Mostly, she wanted to move and right now, it didn't matter where they were going because her muscles ached to be used. "I have considered our situation in this war and am tired of being quiet simply because it is the nice thing to do. We have been bungling this whole war from the start. The Sith struck at us and we did nothing. They struck again and we then did almost nothing. Again and again they have attacked and we stood back and either launched futile attacks at them or simply reacted, and often poorly.

 

"As much as we don't want to admit it, we are no longer the Galactic Alliance, Galactic Empire, or even the New Republic or Imperial Remnant. We are a Rebellion, and it is time we started acting like it. I tried building up the Jedi's military and I don't think that was wrong, but I fear that if we try to act like we are capable of going toe to toe against the Sith Empire, we will be doomed. Our problem is not that we don't want to fight, it is that we simply don't know how to fight our current foe, and the damned Spider has been playing with us while spinning his webs for years now."

 

Glancing back at the Empress and fully aware of the potential sensitivity of the subject, she continued, "I have studied history and know how the Empire and the Imperial Remnant fought. They always struck from a place of power, following traditional aggressive military doctrine while using superior numbers, superior discipline, and superior technology. The Empire won your battles, yes, but you also lost because many more and became a Remnant because you faced beings that adapted. You grew too used to people fighting as you believed they should and relied on your military strength to carry the day. When you faced Rebels who hit and ran, feinted and evaded, and fought with pure heated passion instead of cold duty or desire for power, you lost your grip on the Galaxy."

 

It wasn't that she wanted to be cruel or anger those with her, it was more that she no longer cared about being polite when the fate of the Galaxy was at hand. "When the Sith emerged, you faced them the exact same way: with pure, raw, force. The only problem was: you were now facing a military force that fought almost exactly like you, but this time, they had the superior numbers and strength. Instead of bending, you tried to stand firm and broke. You broke at Kuat and then Carida and have never recovered. You launch fleet after fleet against the most powerful enemy targets while throwing away thousands of lives and ships we can't replace. We were fortunate on Corellia, but even there disaster was avoided only by the smallest of margins."

 

Adenna had always been a good bit direct sometimes to fault, but after her injury, she decided that she no longer had time to play games and cater to everyone. As Grandmaster, she had tried to make peace and reach out to various people. She wanted to be the prim and proper Jedi, the good person who didn't anger anyone or rock any boats. She wanted to build a consensus, to make sure nobody got angry with her, and to do what she could to promote unity and harmony among the scattered and varied beings who were united only by opposition to the Sith. She was so paralyzed by the fear of making a mistake and too unwilling to swallow her own pride to take the chance even when she wasn't afraid.

 

No more.

 

Now, she didn't care. She wouldn't be nice any longer and didn't care of she rubbed people wrong. Silence had killed billions. She meant to fight and would take along anyone who was willing to join her as long as they shared her goals. She wouldn't cater to the political winds or step softly because it might hurt feelings to do otherwise. If people didn't like her, so be it, she would continue on alone if she had to.

 

"We need to start fighting smart, not on their terms. We need to stop hitting the enemy where they are strong, but instead where they are weak. We need to stop fighting obvious targets, but go where they don't expect us. We need to stop throwing away our precious few resources making doomed stands, but rather save them for when we have the advantage. We need to be wise with our numbers and resources while we still have them lest we soon find ourselves without anything to stand against the Sith. Hit them in the dark, from behind, while they sleep, and while they plot their schemes, but never while they are arrayed for battle and ready to crush us.

 

"I have no power, but I will offer advise to any in power who will listen. I will carry the war to our enemy with my own bare hands if nobody wishes to listen to me or aid me. I will serve where needed, lead where called. I will get my hands dirty and sacrifice my name, my pride, my honor, and even my soul if that is what it takes to fight this evil. What I will not do is stand back and do nothing or help others slide down the path of destruction."

 

She stopped and looked squarely at Empress Zinthos. "You lead the Rebellion itself and I respect that. You can ignore me and dismiss my rants as those of a madwoman if you wish. You can allow your pride and honor to force you to continue down this losing path and I will not judge you. However, if you wish to go along the path I aim to trod, then I will gladly accept your presence and together, perhaps we can start to change this war a little. At the least, if it truly is a doomed cause, then we can make such an end that the Sith will howl in anguish and gnash their teeth at the memory of us."

Edited by Adenna Alluyen

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The pursuit was lively and for the moment Alcmène was glad that she had gone on the earlier jog, her legs at least thanked her for it as the muscles were ready for the run. Most Jedi would have relied on the force to catch up with the thieves, but the Tapani  Jedi Knight despised such reckless use of the force. It was a mockery of the power that they had been given to use it for such fruitless pursuits. Willful use of the force for mundane and normal tasks like a run was an open channel to the darkside. For that was the path of least resistance. 

 

The militia storm trooper ran alongside the Jedi and her Apprentice, the blaster carbine still not at the full ready, as they thundered after the thieves. But they were gaining on them and fast. The oldest of the fugitive youths glanced behind him then shouted something to the other two. And in an instant the situation changed. 

 

He pulled a blaster pistol from his belt and pointed it at the two Jedi. The other two pulled similar weapons and the youngest of the criminals grabbed a hostage. 

 

The stormtrooper fell to a knee, and with an even pull placed a glowing crimson bolt into the abdomen of the oldest fugitive. Crumpling him into a rapidly spreading pool of blood, as the screaming from the hostage began. It was time for the Jedi to Act.

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“Third squad prepare.”

 

The Human Replica Droid held up her hand as the doors to the sim room opened up, showing nothing but a vast darkness. In the back of HC-42’s chromium head there rang a little notification. 

 

Do you wish to join the battlenet?

 

This was no simulation device, the targets existed, battlenet or no, this was a purely Imperial Invention, now leveraged by the Rebel Alliance. The AVATAR Neural Net. It was not a slavenet, like the ones a droid should rightfully fear, but an information channel, once that was emanating from the young human replica droid who followed the squad into the Sim bay. 

 

“Neural Net going live.” Her voice echoed through the heads of those that had joined the battlenet, then the information came.  An area map, showing the three possible directions of attack, squad details such as vitals and ammunition, and presumed/predicted enemy locations. HC’s squad was outnumbered, but the combatants were human, and their NVGs could not compare to the thermal images that showed in the battlenet. 

 

“Eliminate them at your leisure HC, but be wary, there are surprises that I cannot see.” 

 

And one of them was there, behind the opposing squad. A E-WEB repeating blaster cannon and crew.

 

((You have a lot of leeway here, make it a hard fight))

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HC-42's sensors were already quite keen, but this new battlenet increased his awareness a hundredfold. Having accepted its connection, it didn't take long for the droid to have a good general idea of what he was facing. He walked into the dark area, already issuing orders as quietly as his vocabulator allowed.

 

"Leep, Gwal, flanking maneuver towards target locations. And be careful, we may never know what we'll face." Leep and Gwal obeyed reluctantly and silently began jogging around, toward the nearest objective on the map.

 

The opposing squad soon came into view. "Open fire, Sasha!" HC-42 suddenly said, and Sasha did just that. HC-42 followed, mowing down as many nearby targets as possible thanks to he and Sasha's impressive targeting and reflexive systems. The E-WEB suddenly came into view, but the crew was attacked by a flurry of blaster fire from the side- Gwal and Leep's flanking had paid off, clearly, as the battlenet confirmed it was his squad attacking. 

 

Using this temporary distraction to his advantage, HC-42 pumped his running legs like pistons, telling Sasha to cover him as he charged with a flurry of E-22 blaster fire towards the cannon that by now was firing in the direction of Gwal and Leep, who barely managed to take cover. The droid's main target was the operator of the cannon, with any nearby crew members as secondary targets. A risky yet calculated move, the cover fire from his three squad mates proved vital in protecting the droid as his assault on the cannon hopefully did enough damage to take it out early.

 

"That's pretty dang courageous for a droid!" Leep managed to shout to Gwal, who was too busy firing his rifle behind cover to say anything. 

 

"I'm gonna help him! Keep laying down cover fire!" Leep said. He then used his incredible agility to his advantage, running and jumping over obstacles while firing a spree of blaster fire. Sasha and Gwal were now the only ones behind cover, but Leep's surprise charge, supported by his fast cybernetic legs, hopefully helped deteriorate the opponent's defenses even more. 

Edited by DroidsAreUnderrated

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The human Replica Droid walked after the advancing rebel squad, most of her concentration held on keeping the neural net together. Her processors operating in an overheat cycle as she scanned every bit of data, discarded the unnecessary, and routed back critical information. There was one thing off about the strange darkness in the corners, as if they were being masked!

 

She forced a warning through the neural net just as dark of the corner near the E-Web shifted aside. Two soldiers revealing themselves from beneath a thermal blanket and letting loose with a lechette launcher to fully douse HC’s squad in simulation featherlight ultra sharp projectiles. Though they would not do much to the hard exoskeleton they would sting and simulate a kill on his squadmates if they were not dealt with quickly! 

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The two flechette launcher-wielding soldiers popped out like daisies on HC-42's sensors. As they fired, HC-42 immediately told the rest of the squad to get behind cover, but it was too late- the slowest of the group, Gwal, got hit. Sasha, Leep, and himself were all that remained in the squad, so HC-42 told Sasha to move into a better position while he distracted the two troops. He began firing toward them in yet another charge, while Sasha went around and managed to fire at both of them as soon as she was well protected and in good sight of them. 

 

Leep was too busy worrying about Gwal to do anything on the offensive, but he managed to get behind cover. The two troopers, though somewhat outclassed by HC-42's durable chassis, technically were equal in numbers without Leep helping out. Sasha hoped HC-42 had the intense durability his design boasted, because he'd need them for the strategy to work.

 

Thankfully, flechettes did little more than scratch the droid's metallic paint, and soon both troopers had been defeated.

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A little while later, the Helix Class Interceptor exited hyperspace above the Alliance world of Nar Shadaa. Coming in quick, Scorpio commed ahead for Alliance Medical Personnel to be on standby for the Jedi Grandmaster's mother. Genesis, winded, kept his healing hands upon Misal until she could be turned over to proper providers.

 

Once that was done, he went in search of his Master, Grandmaster Armiena Draygo Darkfire.

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The initial shock of the attack had ended and Misal Draygo was no longer paralyzed with indecision. However, in some corner of her mind that had been suppressed into silence by the wracking pain, the elderly Miraluka understood that it was absolutely essential that she not move--that she allowed herself to be operated on and maintained by the young Jedi, to be forced into a stupor until proper medical facilities could be reached. However, decades of training had given the operative some ability to subconsciously register that something had changed and survival required her consciousness.

 

Misal stirred, but feebly. Significant pain came with even this foggy form of consciousness and she shivered. Her senses tried to make sense of the drastic change in their surroundings: not blind darkness, but garish and glaring and overwhelming brightness of color and shared sapient sensation, so much that entry to this world was disorienting. A few seconds passed in which the Miraluka merely drew breath and allowed herself to be lifted onto a cot.

 

The world was Nar Shaddaa. Of course. That was where Genesis had left the Jedi.


“Genesis--you won’t….” Weak coughs wracked her body and one of the medics forced a breath mask back onto her face. Misal made a rude gesture and managed a single word before a clean-smelling gas began to seep into her lungs and steal away her consciousness. “Borleias.

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In one of the many old Remnant Star Destroyers that sat in refuelling and reprovisioning stations, a supercomputer began a long estimation of the simulation and tight beamed its results back to the AVATAR. Her photoreceptors flickered for a moment before she smiled at HC and his squad. 

 

“Very well done in the simulations, though losses are tragic, they are not unforeseen, and what is lost can always be rebuilt.” She motioned for them to follow. She talked as they walked towards the next training room. “Using your natural defenses to soak up the flechettes was very well done HC. Though make sure you have proper covering fire from your squad when you advance, you never know if a third surprise hides around the corner.” 

 

They arrived at another doorway, and they could see many technicians and high level officers waiting near the viewing windows. Emma blinked and looked back to the squad. “As you know the rebellion is in conflict with the Sith Lords. Many of us lost our homes and loved ones to their reign of terror. We watched Carida burn as bright as any star as their turbolasers fell.” 

 

The door opened. Revealing a large and mostly empty room. 

 

And inside a red lightsaber came to life.

 

((Take this slow, make your opening attacks))

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HC-42 congratulated his squad as the simulation closed, and listened intently to Emma Three Nine's advice. The droid had in fact used cover fire from his team to his advantage throughout, except for that one instance with the flechette-launching troopers. Emma Three Nine's advice was valuable- surprise threats were always a factor, something HC-42 ignored in that instance due to his focus on the troops. 

 

When Emma brought up Sith Lords, HC-42 briefly recalled via his memory drive what they had done to his creators. Of course, he was already in orbit when the Sith Lords' forces were plundering the lab thanks to a well-paid smuggler, but he saw much carnage in the time the smuggler was calculating the hyperspace coordinates. The Sith Empire had heavily bombed Charros IV's factories- practically the equivalent to bombing a Church in the eyes of a Xi Charrian- entirely from orbit.

 

HC-42 had been programmed to defend the Xi Char. And thus, he was obligated to drive the Sith off Charros IV eventually. It was the reason he sought out the Rebellion. 

 

And now, here he was- facing a Sith warrior of some sort. HC-42 had never faced a Force-sensitive. Ever. And here he was, staring at one with its lightsaber ignited. If it wanted a duel, than now would be a good time to use his electrostaff- which was currently locked in with his personal items. Figures.

 

HC-42 calculated that if he and his squad didn't react soon, the Sith would make the first move. After all, they were known for their aggression. HC-42 didn't waste time wondering what Emma knew about this, if it was a test, or if the Sith was the real deal and attacked the base- those details will come later. So HC-42 thought up a quick strategy- a desperate one. He took a second- literally one second due to his computer speed- to analyze the structure of the dark room, hoping to find weaknesses, and fire at them to bring down the structure on top of the Sith and distract it long enough for a counterattack. If there was any weaknesses, and he was successful, the Sith would probably minimize damage using its telekinetic abilities granted by the Force, but would require a lot of focus to do this, allowing for a barrage of fire from he and his squadmates to hopefully take out the Force-sensitive foe while it was still occupied with the falling debris.

 

Of course, this all depended on the second it would take to determine whether the room ahead's ceiling had a structure that could be damaged by blasters in the first place.

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Raven nodded, her amethyst eyes following the Jedi as she spoke, her face set into an impassive if concerned look. The woman spoke truth, and it was the truth that her advisors had been whispering in her ear for the better part of the last year. It was an inelegant solution, it was against every bit of her training. Against every one of her instincts. The imperial war machine would be dead, its officer corp, its pride reduced to nothing more than terrorists. 

 

But that had won a war before, long before any of them had been alive. Could she, and by extension, her admirals, shed every bit of their being and take on that new mantle? But perhaps her objections were not in doctrine but in mentality. It would devastate the old officer corps to be told to fight like their old enemies. But there was no other way to win. Not at this point. 

 

“I accept your offer Adenna, and how can we help you achieve it?” 

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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As they stepped into a turbolift that would take them out of the medical wards, Adenna allowed the corners of her mouth to curve upwards slightly at the Empress' response. It was quite ironic, truly, that she would find an ally in the Empire that had plagued her childhood. Her first battle scars were from an Imperial stormtrooper, a fact she never forgot even though her body had far more marks had been added since.

 

"The first step is to start spreading out our resources," she said. "When your enemy is stronger, you can't let yourself be caught where they can pin you down and crush you." She had fought plenty of pirates and slavers around Thalassia and throughout Hutt Space after the temporary peace treaty was signed creating the Galactic Alliance. The slavers had started out standing firm in their nests and refusing to hide or run. They had been slaughtered like the animals they were. Only after several had been wiped out did the rest of them figure out they needed to hide and spread out their resources. Those had been harder to kill and took more time which was entirely the point.

 

"Scatter the fleets, decentralize our forces and leadership, and keep on the move while we gather new forces. Go from planet to planet and try to recruit and amass supplies, but don't stay long enough to bring the wrath of the Sith down on us. Before our resources are completely gone, start building small shipyards all over to construct smaller ships like fighters, freighters, corvettes, and some frigates. We can't necessarily hold the major shipyards forever so we need to be able to build smaller forces that can scatter and cover more ground. Recruit not just soldiers, but merchants, bankers, miners, factory owners, and everything in between so we can keep a steady flow of supplies to our forces. Raid the enemy where they are weak, steal what we can and destroy the rest. Stop these major battles and stick to the shadows engaging only in skirmishes."

 

The lift finally stopped and they stepped out to the first place Adenna recognized: a large central terrace that led outside to the grand entrance of the converted Hutt palaces that had been occupied by the Rebels as their headquarters. Taking a moment to fully orient herself, she began heading towards the areas that the Jedi had taken over. Even if things had changed in her absence, there would still be a great deal of things there that she could make use of. Hopefully, the new Grandmaster hadn't taken all off her datapads and information since she had taken a small amount of effort to make sure most things were hidden in case the planet was ever occupied by the Sith. With that, she would regain some access to the resources she had spent the last two years or so building up, resources that would be a good help.

 

"Above all, we need to take the advice of Master Eleison," she admitted, "advice that I did not immediately see the value of. How many Imperial Knights still stand at your call, Empress? I mean to take as many of them and any Jedi willing to take the burden and start hunting Sith one by one. I aim to infiltrate Sith planets and stalk their nightmares. I mean to make them fear the darkness as we start picking them off one by one. I bear no illusion on the cost that it will bear our souls, but sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good and I am willing to sacrifice my soul to save the innocent."

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Raven let her gaze flicker up to the sprawling shipyards that covered much of the starscape of Nar Shaddaa’s north pole. It had taken trillions of credits to establish a yard capable of making cruisers. Trillions more to establish procurement, routes, designers, ores, even bloody paint. All had taken so long to establish, and now it would soon be the time to defend it as a last stand, or pack and live to fight another day. But the refugees? How could they abandon them? They couldn’t leave a billion innocents to the fate they had so harrowingly escaped. But the Jedi spoke truth. 

 

“We will begin to disperse civilians and strategic fleet resources. But it will take very many months to move the refugees. Perhaps if we keep the Sith busy they will not attack directly.” 

 

She pondered and looked to her Imperial knights. 

 

“We have three hundred knights still in service, several hundred in training.” His voice was considering, then he spoke again. “They will serve their empress.” 

 

Raven nodded. “Kyrie will also serve, but in time. She is in meditation, cleansing her soul for the next great fight.”

 

She put her hand on the railing, the slight whirring of the mechanical arm smothered by the distant sounds of a busy and active city. A city yet untouched by the war. 

 

“I was going to dispatch some infiltrators to Mon Calamari to see if liberation is possible. The planet is on the far outer rim, far outside the Sith’s official sphere of influence. With multiple Sith Lords last reported on site. Would that mission entice you?” 

 

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

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Blaster bolts in all of their simulated glory tore into the heavy durasteel roof but it would take more than a hail of gunfire to bring the ceiling down. 

 

“Distract and flank. They cannot block from every direction-” Her voice cut off in a mechanical scream. As a seemingly invisible hand picked her up and hurled her against the far wall. The Neural net stayed active, for her processors had not been damaged. But she was certainly out of the fight. 

 

And the lightsaber advanced. Its owner holding a wicked grin. 

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The squad found itself desperately maneuvering as fast as it could during the Sith's charge, though Gwal was clearly struggling to get around the Sith- his heavy muscles weren't designed for speed, thus impairing his ability to get past the lightsaber. Leep was a different story. He used his cybernetic legs to boost himself around the Sith warrior, who by now was focused on deflecting shots from Sasha, who hadn't moved yet. Leep landed behind the Sith, and fired as much bolts as he could towards the Sith. HC-42 himself was behind cover, because had to consider his options before making a move. He was simply using his squad mates to buy time. 

 

Option one was to attempt de-escalation tactics. Sith could rarely be reasoned with, however, and trying to talk them down would waste even more time. Definitely not worth the risk. Option two would be to join his squadmates in attempting to out-flank and fire from all directions. A sound strategy, but not without its risks either- force-sensitive warriors were practically one-person armies, and the strategy even working heavily depended on the squad's ability to get where they needed to go in the first place- again, something Gwal was struggling to do. Option three was to analyze the Sith's fighting pattern and adapt accordingly- again, something the squad had little time for. Option four was to use the Sith's aggression against them somehow. But that would be difficult without explosives or traps. Option two it was. 

 

Since Leep had already gotten behind and was firing, the Sith's hands were likely full deflecting the shots from each direction. HC-42 had enough cover from the lightsaber to get where he needed, but had to be careful still, as he wasn't covered against the blaster bolts that were flying everywhere thanks to the Sith warrior's truly amazing finesse in deflecting each shot. HC-42 remembered the advice of Emma Three Nine- "Distract and flank." So that's what he did. The droid motioned a hand signal to Gwal, who looked terrified, but charged at the Sith blasters blazing anyway, while covering his face with his hulking metallic arms to prevent any deflecting shots from doing permanent damage, at least to his head. It wasn't the best distraction, but perhaps the Sith would be arrogant enough to try and take out the the most brutal of the bunch just to make a point. Hopefully, the distraction wouldn't cost the bait- HC-42 had just been getting to like Gwal. 

 

HC-42 used the still-functioning battlenet to calculate the safest path past the Sith's right flank, as Leep had already been firing from behind the left flank. HC-42 then propelled himself, moving as fast as his metallic alloy could allow, in that direction. As soon as he reached the other side- assuming he did- he would take aim at the Sith's head, and fire repeatedly just to be sure.

 

 

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On 4/8/2021 at 6:30 PM, Alcmène said:

The pursuit was lively and for the moment Alcmène was glad that she had gone on the earlier jog, her legs at least thanked her for it as the muscles were ready for the run. Most Jedi would have relied on the force to catch up with the thieves, but the Tapani  Jedi Knight despised such reckless use of the force. It was a mockery of the power that they had been given to use it for such fruitless pursuits. Willful use of the force for mundane and normal tasks like a run was an open channel to the darkside. For that was the path of least resistance. 

 

The militia storm trooper ran alongside the Jedi and her Apprentice, the blaster carbine still not at the full ready, as they thundered after the thieves. But they were gaining on them and fast. The oldest of the fugitive youths glanced behind him then shouted something to the other two. And in an instant the situation changed. 

 

He pulled a blaster pistol from his belt and pointed it at the two Jedi. The other two pulled similar weapons and the youngest of the criminals grabbed a hostage. 

 

The stormtrooper fell to a knee, and with an even pull placed a glowing crimson bolt into the abdomen of the oldest fugitive. Crumpling him into a rapidly spreading pool of blood, as the screaming from the hostage began. It was time for the Jedi to Act.

 

Vox was gaining quickly with the militia trooper and the woman right behind him, it seemed they would catch the thugs. But indeed things had to be interesting, and the stakes grew much, much higher in an instant. Blasters were pulled, a crimson bolt shot past Vox and hit one of the three thugs in the gut forcing the man to drop down. He didn't draw his weapon, his focus of the Force still held however wavered when the tension rose. 

 

The eldest of the trio was down however it left the two younger ones with guns as well, one of which held a hostage. Vox didn't draw any weapon though, not even the energy swords given from Alcmène. Instead he remained calm and focus, relying on not a gut feeling but almost instinct, but not quite that. It felt like guidance than instruction and immediately his focus was on the blaster of the hostage. 

 

The Trandoshans eyes feel to the hostage and their captor, a young man indeed, possibly just reached adulthood. It was sad that anyone could turn to petty thievery and now they would resort to such things as this? Vox focused on the blaster and put all his energy into it, however at the same time he put his hands out in front, showing the thugs he wasn't of any threat... That they could perceive, then again, there was a large armored lizard in front of them. 

 

"Ease yourselves," Vox stated calmly using the Common Trandoshan language, "There is need for struggle, and no one else has to get hurt." 

 

Taking advantage of this time, Vox carefully put his energy into the Blaster. His sight was still active, the hostage were painted green while the thugs were red, the blaster was nearly perfectly outlined as orange. Be used the Force to carefully weave into the weapon, each crevice slowly filling with an invisible glimmering mist that these men couldn't feel nor see. Vox needed time, just a moment or so to eradicate the weapon do the hostage wasn't shot. 

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"Remember.... When in doubt, remember your meditations."

 

Scorpio's departing words echoed in Genesis' mind as he left the Jedi Temple here upon Nar Shadaa, the news of Armiena no longer being here not sitting right upon his heart as he blended in among the masses. Part of the Padawan was glad that their encounter had yet to happen and the consequences of his actions didn't play out. But he couldn't help but feel plagued by his misdeeds and his leaving. And yet, walking among the many sentients had a sense of calming over his mind that he couldn't find in solidarity. And so he took the time, meditating on the move, letting his mind free to wander across the spectrum and through the currents.

 

"We're sorry Master Stormhelm, but Grandmaster Darkfire is tasked with a mission at the moment and cannot be disturbed."

 

The Jedi's words played over and over in his mind as his gut fiddled with knots and churning. Perhaps it was his guilt, or his own impatience, but even though he found relief in the delayed reunion, it didn't quite sit right with him. His mind wandered back to reality, finding himself back where he began, the Alliance Hospital where Misal had been delivered. He stood there, looking inward, half expecting the Miraluka to come barging out after him. But he also felt a pull to go in and check on her, and so he approached the reception desk.

 

"She is stable Master Jedi." The receptionist spoke with some disbelief. "A bit bruised and well aged, but stable."

 

Genesis chuckled at her comment and made his exit when Misal's words played back across his memory. "Borleias"

 

It didn't make sense to him at first, but with Armiena's mission having the classification that it did and the Elder Miraluka making sure her words were spoken before his departure, it seemed to come together. Misal, albiet a tad on the secretive side herself, always knew where her daughter was. And for her to push the information into his hands despite the Medics dislike, he didn't know why it hadn't clicked sooner. But how would he get to Borleias? Last time he was there, it was on Jedi transportation. Now he was alone. There was only one alternative...

 

"One ticket to Borleias please."

Edited by Stormhelm

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Adenna nodded at the suggestion. "I regret that we couldn't do anything for Mon Calamari before the Sith arrived in force. As much as we wanted to protect it, to do so would have spelled a great disaster among the Jedi fleet and the result would have remained the same. One of the harshest lessons we will need to learn is that sometimes, sacrifices must be made even if they were hard. It would do nobody any good for us to die on our hilltop in a blaze of glory fighting an impossible fight then forfeit the rest of the Galaxy as result. Better to allow single planets or entire sectors to fall while preserving our ability to fight so that one day, we might return to liberate them. Some will die, but some will also live.

 

"Allow me some time to prepare and I shall go with your team to Mon Calamari and see what can be done. It would be good to stalk the Sith for a change, and I hope we can find a way to save those that can be saved on that planet. Even a partially successful uprising would delay production in the shipyards and cause the Sith to have to devote more resources to the planet." It was a cold calculation, one she couldn't make in times past. Any uprising would likely cost millions of lives, but she would not deny any people the right to fight for their planet if they desired it. Better dead fighting than living as a slave or in constant fear of when the jackboots of the Sith Empire would break down your door.

 

 

Parting ways outside the Medical Center, she went through to the areas that held the Jedi administration and training areas. Some of the Padawans and Knights recognized her, though their reactions differed. Some were pleased to see her, others offered a cautious nod of recognition that bespoke them not knowing exactly how to respond. She didn't take offense at this because there would inevitably be some question as to her place and role here. Adenna was not a fool enough to believe she was universally liked or even had a majority approval of what she had done as Grandmaster. There had been things she would have done better in hindsight, but there were things she would do exactly the same. To second guess herself was a waste of time so she would not indulge it. She learned from her mistakes and would do what she could not to repeat them and begging forgiveness or apologizing to get some measure of acceptance was an exercise of extreme pointlessness.

 

She went to one of the lesser repositories of data and was glad that her basic access levels hadn't been revoked. Using her biometric data and two passcodes, she managed to pull up a series of files containing data that would not have otherwise been stored in a place like this. Concealment in an unlikely place among millions of petabytes of data was as much a safety net as throwing everything in a highly protected firewall that was sure to draw attention. She copied the documents onto a Jedi datapad that was available in the repository. It wasn't that she was concerned about the safety of the Rebel datapad that had been given to her, it was just that a failsafe was encoded to the data that would trigger self deleting protocols if it were transferred into anything but a pre-encoded Jedi device.

 

This data would be of great use to her in the next couple of months. She would have to spend some time going over what had happened in her absence, but that could wait for the trip to Mon Calamari. Her next stop was to track down where her personal effects had been taken. It wasn't shocking to find that they had been removed from the Grandmaster's quarters and put into temporary storage. It took a little administrative work to track that down and have the box containing them brought out for her to access. From there, she was able to acquire her own robes, gear, and a memento or two. She went to the training center to change in the rooms there, but didn't leave behind the things that the Rebels had given her. The lightsaber was going to be quite useful, though the rest of the gear would be returned.

 

Putting a few other things into a duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder, she made her way out of the Jedi buildings and into the Rebels areas where she would meet with the former Imperials and eventually head out on another mission.

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The lightsaber whirred in crimson arcs of light as lowpower blaster bolts were sent a hundred different directions by the Sith. Then the beacon of the darkside coolly and carelessly strode forward and ran his saber up to the hilts into the doubled up arms of Gwal. Spearing straight into where his head was protected. A millisecond later the saber was out of the Rebel soldier and up to deflect but it was too late. One of the bolts from HC caught the Sith in the back of the hood. The lights came on in the room with a flash and Emma Three Nine pulled herself to her feet, dusting off her BDU as she twisted her neck back into position.  The lightsaber snapped off and the Sith pulled back their hood to reveal a young woman still in her middle teens who was grinning and shaking her head towards the observation window. 

 

“Sorry Master, I let myself get distracted.” 

 

The girl rubbed at the burn on the back of her neck at the edge of her black hair and grinned back to HC.

 

“Very well shot by the way, very precise for an elimination.” 

 

She shrugged off her black cloak and tossed it onto a table, revealing a set of light armour emblazoned with the rebel phoenix crosshatched by the old Imperial coat of arms. Indicating that she was an Imperial Squire, an apprentice to one of the Imperial Knights that still served their old empress. 

 

“I would applaud the sacrifice to secure a kill, but maybe a different type of distraction would have saved the life of your squadmate.” She nodded to Gwal and grimaced at the small burnmark on the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "Sorry about that by the way." 

 

She blinked then laughed before extending her hand to the battle droid. "I am Berea, Imperial Squire, at your service." 

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HC-42's strategy had worked, though was unfortunately too late to save Gwal. He was shocked to see the lights come on at first. But as Emma Three Nine got up and HC-42 overheard the commentary of the so-called enemy, the truth became clear. This really had been a test of sorts, and the "Sith" was an Imperial Squire. As she apologized to Gwal, HC-42 heeded the advice of the Squire that had just been given. Had HC-42 had more creativity, he perhaps would have come up with a different distraction, but his logic-oriented mind, while intelligent, struggled with outside of the box strategies. He was still impressed by the Squire's performance in combat, and the droid reluctantly shook Berea's hand, quite tighter than he perhaps intended. 

 

"HC-42, at yours. And to the Rebellion, of course." The droid said. He then turned to his squadmates. They were exhausted. Gwal was still pinching his singed nose, while Sasha and Leep were sitting in the corner of the room, panting. Finally, Gwal spoke. "Nicely done, 42, but honestly- try not to sacrifice any of us. I'm sure you're aware that wouldn't be ideal in a real situation." Leep added to this, saying, "Yeah, unlike clones or droids, we can't be replaced as quickly as we die." HC-42 nodded. He was indeed aware of this, but perhaps didn't consider it in the heat of the moment. After all, it was a serious situation, or seemed like one at least. "I apologize..." was all the droid could say. He was glad this was a simulation. Like Sasha said, the most important thing is what they learned from it, and the whole squad had learned a great deal.

 

The droid than turned to the higher ranking members in the room, as if awaiting orders from either Berea or Emma Three Nine. He stood there, eerily still like droids do, and his squadmates also stood up and lined up around him, attentive, when they had the strength to stand again. The three human-cyborg, one droid squad had now completed their second task in the simulation, and were ready to recieve further orders.

Edited by DroidsAreUnderrated

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Alcmène let her eyelids flutter half closed, letting the force flow through her, letting it fill every part of her until she reached out and let the power flow from her into the trandoshan. She had every confidence in him. And when he flipped the gun from pointing at the hostage and towards Vox himself, she whispered. 

 

“Now act.”

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On 4/21/2021 at 3:49 PM, Alcmène said:

Alcmène let her eyelids flutter half closed, letting the force flow through her, letting it fill every part of her until she reached out and let the power flow from her into the trandoshan. She had every confidence in him. And when he flipped the gun from pointing at the hostage and towards Vox himself, she whispered. 

 

“Now act.”

 

Without hesitation, Vox used the strings he weaved and expanded the innards weapon and just before it fired it blew apart in a mess of smoke and a quick flash of green, however quickly keeping it contained to just the arm of the thug to prevent the hostage from harm. Much akin to a surgery, the best way to injure a hurt warrior is to rip out their stitching and every piece that made up the mended flesh cane apart in a violence of skin and blood. This was very similar, except it was a combination of punishment, action, and stupidity on the thugs part. 

 

This action taken place left Vox drained of energy, he felt as if he'd climbed the steeps of Kholech once again when he was training as a warrior. He felt the Force leave and stumbled back for just a split second before regaining his composure and rushing forward. Despite his size Vox was faster than what someone would consider a lumbering giant moved. Within an instant Vox had pushed the hostage aside and grappled the first thug, putting him in a hold where his arm were twisted behind the back and an armored arm around his throat in a choke hold. 

 

Vox then turnt to the second thug and pushed upward on the first's arm, threatening to snap it with ease. Vox evenly, vocally and calmly said to the second thug, "Drop your weapon, and your punishment would be less severe. No one else needs to get hurt." 

 

Whether or not the law would hold the man to a lower standard for not taking a hostage Vox didn't know. He most likely lied, bit given the situation, it would be foolish for the second thug to even fire. He was surrounded, nowhere to go and Force Users already capable of dismantling their weapons. Despite all that, a giant armored and scaly tank capable of moving quite freely regardless of the heavy plating  telling a puny street crawler to surrender was wisdom that should be followed. Vox was not above killing it he had to, but overall wished to avoid it. 

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“Either way I am proud of you.” said Emma Three Nine. Her voice was strained, as if the blow had done her a bit more harm than she had let on. She reflected on the frailty of the body she inhabited then reflected again on the wise choice the old imperial techs had made in putting a strong AI into a weak body. Easy top dispose of in case of rogue activity….

 

“This round of simulations is over and I think it is time that we went on a proper mission. We will be reporting to kessel as soon as possible, then from there the mission objectives have not yet been revealed to me.” 

 

She shook her blonde head and then nodded. “Board the Star Destroyer Misericordia. It is in orbit on station three. It departs in two hours. See me in the briefing room there.”

 

((Go ahead an post you and your squad boarding the allied destroyer and reporting for duty))

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“Very Well done!” 

 

The young jedi knight let the surprise and joy in her voice wash over the trandoshan as the young man dropped his weapon with very little resistance. He was terribly frightened, and the large brute needed to do very little to frighten him enough to drop the weapon he had never really intended on using anyway. 

 

“Bloody shit tonnes of flimsi-work though.” Muttered the colonial militia storm trooper who was prodding the one blasted thug with the toe of a white boot. “Spasted fool. I’ll take custody from here. I’ll just need Ms Alcmène’s testimony then you both can get on your way.” They could hear the grin under the helmet. “THanks for the catch. Taking a bad team off the streets is always a win in my book.”

 

Alcmène grinned back and then when the suspect was cuffed she gave Vox a sideways look. “Do you think you are ready to come on a mission with me? Or do you want to give it more training time?”

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Little chimes and alarms sprang to life around the rebel base and shipyards. It was go time for space command and the other joint operations groups that made up the Rebel Alliance High Command. Riding the success from Fondor, they were about to make their first official push into Recently Sith Occupied Territory. Kuat had been seized at the very beginning of the war, so they had little trouble imagining that would be a hard fought battle. Mon Calamari however… The citizens wanted their freedom, so the Rebel Alliance would answer. 

 

All Jedi Knights, Imperial Knights, Rebel Officers, Pilots, and Infiltrators had their orders.

 

They Would be meeting on Kessel or Bothawui

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The squad fell out. HC-42 had not yet been to station three, but knew that sooner or later a real mission would be assigned to them. And that when that was the case, the mission was probably in a different part of the galaxy, thus naturally meaning that space travel was necessary. HC-42 had only a few journeys through space, the first of which when he was smuggled off Charros IV, the last of which when he took a shuttle to Nar Shaddaa after the smuggler dropped him off at the Toydarian spaceport. Needless to say, HC-42 had no piloting experience- the Xi Charrians didn't expect him to be leaving Charros IV so soon. But the Sith obviously weren't going to allow them to keep their prized droid. Not when it could pose such a threat to their fanatical Empire.

 

They boarded the first available transport to take them to the orbiting station. HC-42 couldn't help but notice that the troops outside his squad in the transport were all nervous. Some were even scowling. HC-42 was used to this. Droids weren't always seen as useful or efficient, no matter how hard they worked to prove otherwise. There were always organics, all over the galaxy, who were dissatisfied with them. HC-42 could hardly blame them- droids weren't paid for the services they provided, making them a cheap alternative for corporations to employing organics, at least for menial tasks. The jealousy and bitterness this put in the lower class citizens of the galaxy often showed in violent ways, but these were military troops who had their orders, and were not permitted to attack droids that were property of the Rebellion. HC-42 wondered whether he was considered property or sentient by his superiors. Having command of a squad perhaps suggested he was seen as sentient, but HC-42 was sure that whether he was seen as sentient or property depended on the individual, their prejudices, and their outlook on life. HC-42 decided to stop thinking about that. It didn't help his mission, and he had earned the respect of his squad, and that was enough. All in all, the journey to station three was rather uneventful for Squad Three, save for Gwal complaining to Sasha on one occasion about his singed nose. 

 

"I'm telling you, it makes me look ridiculous." he would say. Sasha quickly assured him that he of all people shouldn't be ashamed of scars. HC-42 silently agreed. After all, what were cybernetics to an organic species, if not scars of sorts?

 

By the time the squad arrived on station three, they were directed enough to know where their ship was. They went to the docking bay, and what they saw was indeed a Star Destroyer. Whether it was actually Misericordia was to be determined as soon as they began to board. Sure enough, the boarding officer confirmed it was Misericordia, and the squad entered. For a while, they wandered around the ship looking for the officer in charge of their mission. A sympathetic deck officer directed them to the individual. HC-42 and his squadmates lined up, and said in unison,
 

"Reporting for duty." 

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19 hours ago, Alcmène said:

“Very Well done!” 

 

The young jedi knight let the surprise and joy in her voice wash over the trandoshan as the young man dropped his weapon with very little resistance. He was terribly frightened, and the large brute needed to do very little to frighten him enough to drop the weapon he had never really intended on using anyway. 

 

“Bloody shit tonnes of flimsi-work though.” Muttered the colonial militia storm trooper who was prodding the one blasted thug with the toe of a white boot. “Spasted fool. I’ll take custody from here. I’ll just need Ms Alcmène’s testimony then you both can get on your way.” They could hear the grin under the helmet. “THanks for the catch. Taking a bad team off the streets is always a win in my book.”

 

Alcmène grinned back and then when the suspect was cuffed she gave Vox a sideways look. “Do you think you are ready to come on a mission with me? Or do you want to give it more training time?”

 

As soon as an Imperial troop came over to handle the scene Vox let the poor individual go. The Trandoshan moved out of the way as the militia troop went on to take care of the situation and have Alcmène speak about the situation. In the meantime Vox couldn't help but feel oddly toward his ability, more specifically what he just did. His thoughts were to disarm the troublemaker and he received something akin to a guide; information that weren't his, and made him question reality just a little. Doubt was something of a burden, though that's not what he felt at all, instead it was a mixture of confusion and relief to the situation... And hunger. Literal hunger, as of he hasn't ate in a good while. 

 

Vox looked to Alcmène as she approached, and though his powers does with that last move his mind and eyes played tricks of colors. Was this the effects of the Force, and how long do they last? He clearly wasn't used to this kind of sensation, and would certainly need more work. The damning question came, “Do you think you are ready to come on a mission with me? Or do you want to give it more training time?”

 

The Chieftain stopped all thoughts for a moment just for that question. Training would be good, certainly, however he has a job to his people and to help this Alliance in hopes to find a home for his tribe. Preferably, easy for the Alliance to find but far from the reaches of the war, at least long enough to get settled and set up their own military strength and numbers. Vox then spoke immediately as he finally made up his mind, "I believe I am ready for a mission. Any chances of utilizing this... Force, would be best practiced when possible for the mission. However before we go I must get my followers something to eat, if you are willing to help with that? It won't take but a few minutes."

 

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With so little crude matter holding her back, it was quite simple for Adenna to be ready to deploy. She had never been one for material possessions and knew that food and basic needs would be met on the ship. She needed little in the way of weapons, though the silver blade of the Imperial Knight's generic lightsaber that was given to her was strange. Perhaps, if there was time, she would work on another lightsaber, but for now that wasn't important. Fighting was all that truly mattered and she would do her part. As long as the Rebels were going along with that plan, she would stay with them. If they didn't and allowed themselves to get mired in the pointless battles that only cost lives, she would find her own way to strike at the Sith. Jedi were generally useless in fleet battles, but they could do an incredible amount of damage on the ground and behind enemy lines.

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The rebel alliance fleet began to move, ships long at the dockyard began to cut their tow lines, and the heart of any drydock, the tug corvettes, began to push and align the large capital ships into some semblance of order as the combined taskforces began to align out of the gravity well. 

 

Perhaps this would be the final time the great fleet sallied forth from its hiding place. Only the force could tell. 

 

They were bound for Kessel.

 

((HC-42 and Emma post on Kessel))

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