Mon Calamari/Dac

[Galen]

Lost in thought Galen was slightly startled when all of the sudden he heard a splash from below. Galen was sitting on the edge of the city, beneath the railing.

 

Looking down he could see Roene bobbing on the surface of the water. Galen watched as Roene pulled himself up onto the side of the city. The Kushiban waved. He marveled at all of these new cultures that seemed to appear everyday on his travels. Like most who lived in the plains of Galen's homeworld, he couldn't swim. It was interesting to watch someone swim. Suposively the native species here all swam.

 

Galen shrugged.

[Kitt]

Kitt sat at the edge of a building looking out at the rain that was falling both here and far off. Reaching deep down within the Force, he pushed a telepathic message to both his padawans.

 

"Remember to keep yourself open to the Force. Through it, you will find parts to your lightsaber, new lessons, and even paths that you must walk."

 

Almost as soon as he was done, a tingle went through the Force. Slight ripples that echoed through the Force off of Coruscant. He let the feelings linger longer to hear or feel other ripples that might be moving in cohesion with the original ripple. There was another, but they were ever so soft and quiet. If he had not been looking, he would not have felt them at all. Even calm waters have deep currents.

 

Kitt was unsure whether or not Roene and Galen would be able to feel the ripple, for it was over such a great distance, and their sense were not that attuned as his. Instead of focusing on the distant and out of control, Kitt turned his focus inward to search for the next lesson that Roene and Galen would need to learn.

[Roene Givrah]

The Cerean managed to anchor himself out of the water and onto the shore as he continued to gasp for breath, his lungs filling up with liberating oxygen; the revitalizing sustaining air moving through his mind and body, giving both of them new life. A few slight chokes eeked through his chest and mouth though, showing his discomfort as to the water currently lodged within his throat, but Roene keep telling himself that he would be back to his feet in no time. However, an unexpected feeling kicked in as Roene began to move from there. His legs felt cold and weary, accompanied by his heavy cold chest, beating down upon his balance and health. The air, which for its respite had felt so relaxing, now felt painful as knives ran across his skin, sending Roene into a painful fit within his own mind.

 

The pain was enormous and the chill was tremendous - The only hope he had was to find the nearest building to salvage his warmth with and hopefully draw Galen to his side.

 

Roene coughed slightly, moving as quickly as he could to the nearest building, but something lingered on the edge of his mind... Something wasn't right in the galaxy...

[Kitt]

Feelings of despair and pain washed over Kitt as he could feel that his ripples from Coruscant were now turing faster into waves. As he turned to stare up at Mon Calamari's atmosphere, he could feel Roene stirring within the Force. A short touch made him all aware that he was able to feel the waves too. Reaching deep into the Force, he made it clear to both padawans that they needed to get back to Gala.

[James Krote]

As Mon Calamari drew near James set up a com.

 

"James Krote with the Alliance, requesting permission to land." James said in his professional voice.

 

Once he had everything settled and was planet side he made his way around and asked people for directions. Once he made his way to a room with a cot, a small workshop, a desk and a holonet feed. He looked around and set his things down on his cot. He sat down at the workshop and started working. It had a lot of supplies which would keep him occupied when he wasn't doing his work. He grabbed some tools from his tool belt that he needed. He used his small saw and cut a piece up. After that he installed into the rest of it. He started on a metal casing and placed on top of it.

 

When he was finished he had a small box that moved on wheels, he set it down and watched as it scooted away, running into walls on the way.

 

((OOC:I tried this before, you can post the little droid's actions. This should allow me to post a little more when I'm alone.))

[Cadio Sikaot]

As soon as everything was squared away Cadio began preperations to leave the Mon Calamari system. He left one ship in the system to protect the shipyard and continue the clean-up process planet side. Once his task was complete the other two ships from the task force jumped out towards Gala.

[James Krote]

James decided to take a stroll around, he opened his door and started looking around. It was a pretty standard set up but he liked it and as he got familiar with it he bumped into a few people and got into conversations with him. He knew he had to try to make some friends or he would be stuck in his quarters all the time. He started to like it on Mon Calamari.

 

((I am posting since I am bored, it wasn't a long post but meh.))

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca's StarSword came out of hyperspace almost instantly on a corkscrew dive towards the planet. He didn't worry too much about his padawan's ability to follow. It wasn't like it would be hard for him to make his way to the surface. As he carefully piloted the fighter towards the surface, he emitted his presence through the Force to let Kitt know he was on his way down.

 

The StarSword landed fair decently on the sandy surface of Mon Calamari. He could feel Kitt on the surface not far from where he was. Climbing out of the cockpit, and standing next to his StarSword, he echoed it through his ripples that he wanted Kitt to come to him. Once he had done that, he just stood and waited for Neruu to land.

[Neruu]

Neruu came out of hyperspace a bit after master kirlocca's and his fighter looked like it was out of control with it jerking left and right. Neruu went towards the surface letting his R5 unit take over with landing. Neruu thought he was getting the hang of it though.

 

Neruu's fighter landed on sand and slid a bit on sandy ground beneath it. Then Neruu went to opened cockpit to get out and slowly climbed out. Neruu was a little frazzled from trying to pilot fighter but he had managed to get where he needed to go. Neruu looked around exited to be on another new planet.

[Wookiee Jedi]

Kirlocca turned to acknowledge Neruu and he climbed out of his StarSword, but as he moved, his comlink beeped rapidly as he received a priority recall to Gala.

 

<< Change of plans, we're headed for Gala. They need defenders now. >>

 

Kirlocca climbed back into his StarSword, as he was sure that Neruu was as well. Part of him felt bad for dragging him around like he was, but it was the life and service of a Jedi. He also knew Kitt would be receiving a recall similar to what he had just received. With that, he was back up in the air and headed for Gala.

 

((Sorry to to this to you.))

[Neruu]

Neruu jumped back into the his fighter and flipped few switches to get into air and follow master Kirlocca to Gala. Neruu wondered what could possibly be happening at the planet. Neruu though was not able to really think of what might be happening.. maybe battle no.. something bigger then battle possibly Neruu was clueless but kept his curiosity in back of his mind concentrating on following master Kirlocca to gala. Neruu didn't want to go off in wrong direction get himself lost somehow and he knew is curiosity would be satisfied when arriving to the planet.

 

((Don't mind hoping around))

[James Krote]

James strolled back to his room with his hands in his pockets. He sat at his workbench and thought about what he could make next. He fumbled with some tools and he kept tinkering around with a small peice of metal until it grew an grew until it was about the size of him. He completed the circuitry in the droid and installed some weaponry, in this one he put a basic repeating blaster. He activated it and asked it a question to make sure it was functioning correctly.

 

"What is my name?"

 

"James."

 

"Good, your name is Alpha."James said as he started inscribing a large A onto it's back.

 

James decided to make a few more so he would have something to do some "friends" and if the need arises a defense. He installed some with more advanced shielding and some with explosives. They all followed the same design he had made up though, he inscribed them all with the letter that corresponded with their name. When James was satisfied with his work he set them by a wall and went to sleep and decided to work on them more after some rest. He walked over to his cot and went to sleep.

It was cold, very cold. So cold you would freeze to death if you went outside with anything less than heavy survival gear. James was sitting in a briefing room surrounded by others. He didn't know why he was there but it felt familiar and when he got up to ask someone everything grew warm, the room had changed in an instant to one with flames and wreckage. He looked to see if anyone was harmed but no one was to be seen. He scrambled for an exit with out any luck.

 

He heard a noise and turned to look and saw as man in red armor walked through the fire. James tried to get away but there was to much heat for him to press on. He grabbed a pistol off of the table and pointed it at Doran, he let off a rounds with the bullets doing nothing more than dent his armor. He was cornered and had no plan he only stood there as his brother approached him. Doran put a his blaster against James' head and as he pulled his trigger...

 

He woke up.

[Galen]

((OOC: To expedite matters I am going to do a little g-modding here; this way we don't use five posts just to get going again. If you have any issue with my post, Roene or Kitt, please send a pm so that I can modify this one. I'm not intending to step on any toes here.))

 

Galen rushed to the ship after hearing Kitt's call. It would only take a few moments to power up. Inside he ran through the control sequence as quickly as possible. In only a few minutes the drive became active with a familiar thrumming sound. Hearing two additional sets of boots running up the access ramp, Galen sealed the ship up and activated the repulsors.

 

"Coral City Tower, Jedi 1-1 Requesting emergency outbound, Vector Gala."

 

"Jedi 1-1, Coral City, Clear Out, Squawk 0001, Good Luck."

 

"Jedi 1-1, Squawk 0001, Acknowledged."

 

The ships wings dropped as its nose pointed skyward and it accelerated under high thrust. A few minutes later it jumped to light speed.

 

((Continued in Space. Either one of you feel free to take it there.))

[BLACK1]

Section One of the Imperial fleet exited hyperspace in a broad formation, with most of the bigger ships spread out far from each other. The formation would maximize coverage of Mon Calamari's air space, however would prove to be somewhat sketchy should the Republic send forces. But it didn't really matter anymore. It was a testament to the Emperor's bravado, in this instance ignoring the possible forthcoming dangers in favor for an immediate advantage. As always, a portion of the fleet held back. There was no need to present the entire strength of Section One right off the bat, and you never know when you'll get jumped from the rear. The Rebellion had a habit of coming at you from behind, never really attacking head on. A common joke amongst Imperial soldiers was to imply the need for addition armor for their buttocks when a Rebel counter-attack was likely.

 

Standard for all Imperial planetary siege operations, all long range communications were cut the second the fleet entered the system, the Interdictors not far behind to impose their hold on space. Sitting on his throne aboard the Solemn Harbinger, with all the expected excitement of battle completely absent in his features, the Emperor casually hit the comm and put it on broad range for the entire planet to hear.

 

"This is Emperor Black. I don't have time for pleasantries and formalities this evening. Just surrender, or I'll blow you up, blah blah blah. You have one hour."

 

Putting the comm on broad range would ensure that every citizen on the planet would hear it. For those citizens that didn't hold a position of power, and as such would not know how to keep a cool head under such situations, many would hit the streets in panic. Calls would flood in to government buildings, many would even try to use their own private ships to try to escape a doom filled future of missiles, though they would fail. TIES were now being deployed to intercept the smaller fleeing vessels, while the larger ones would be well within the range of the Star Destroyers. In the confusion, the Mon Calamari government would have a much harder time denying Black of his demands. Chaos was his weapon this day, and it served him well.

[James Krote]

As James was tinkering with the targeting system for the droids he had made he was shocked by the announcement he had heard. He didn't really believe it at first.

 

"What the sith?" He asked himself, he knew it was bad and he hoped he didn't have to make the decision. He was stationed on Mon Calamari and he knew that this would affect him.

 

Why would the Emperor attack here?

 

James didn't know what to do, he rushed out to try and find someone who knew what was going on.

Edited April 30, 2009 by Guest

[Dagon]

OOC((Long range communications have been jammed, so no holonet.))

[James Krote]

In a nice office was a General on Mon Calamari his hands were in his face as he thought about what he should do. He knew he couldn't let people die on his decision but he knew if he surrendered there would be consequences for the people. As the time dwindled down he knew there was need for a decision. He turned to his adviser.

 

"Set up communications with Emperor Black."He said in his comforting voice. A few minutes later when everything was set up General MacArthur started to speak.

 

"Emperor Black, I know you would make good on threat but I have to do what I believe is best and I cannot surrender. If you attack you will be shot and that will be unpleasant so just turn around and leave."The com shut off abruptly.

 

MacArthur told his men to ready the planetary cannons and the defense platforms in case Black made a stupid decision.

[BLACK1]

"Emperor Black, I know you would make good on threat but I have to do what I believe is best and I cannot surrender. If you attack you will be shot and that will be unpleasant so just turn around and leave."

 

For a moment, he sat with his mouth agape, unable to really process what happened. How could anyone in any position of authority make such a childish threat? Did they just not care about their lives, or was it some sort of ploy to buy them more time? Regardless, the clock was ticking, and Black would not waste any more time negotiating with someone who threatened to use their single ship against the bulk of Section One.

 

Without returning a comm, the Emperor turned to the Captain. "Fire a full barrage from all ships present directly into their bridge. Ion emplacements first, then the lasers, and finally three quarters of our available missile bays. Direct all ships' shields forward for whatever return fire they might be able to return in the short time that is left in their lives. And bring me a bottle of whiskey. Looks like this is going to be yet another slow day." A cigarette found its way to his mouth, the thin trail of cobalt smoke streaming steadily upward as he took a long, hard drag. Word spread throughout the fleet like wildfire, and in but a few minutes, everyone had reported the situation green.

 

Without warning Black's answer raged toward the lone Republic vessel in waves, the furious red of ionized plasma first to strike, soon followed by the malevolent green of Imperial turbolasers. But that was not all. When the energy based weapons had each in turn done their damage, hundreds of concussion and proton missiles erupted from their mechanical berths, their deafening cry silenced only be the void of space. There would be no mercy shown this day. Mercy was for those who proved to fight valiantly in battle, not for cowards hiding behind the protective blanket of the faux Republic.

 

<>

 

Back on the comm to the officials planet side, the Emperor had but one thing to say to those who had failed to give him the battle he so desired.

 

"Forty minutes"

[Survivor's Foundation]

"Emperor Black," a steady Coruscanti accent hailed the Imperial flagship, coming from a Mon Calamari Cruiser that orbited Dac. "This is Admiral Vandro of the Survivor's Foundation. I sincerely hope that this demand does not include the Survivor's Foundation, otherwise you will be in breach of treaty."

 

Five ships bearing the humanitarian organization's colors orbited the watery planet, still carrying out their mission of restoring Dac's ecosystems. The Imperial veteran was confident that his command would not be hassled--the fleet was comprised of quite an eclectic crew. There were citizens from both the Republic and the Empire--an even mix, as a considerable fraction of the crew hailed from Coruscant, but the Republic had been outspoken in its support of the organization in the past.

[James Krote]

(Killshot defense post)

 

The ship had little time to take defensive action but they thought up a quick plan. They knew that Black would attack the bridge for that was the weakest part of the ship, they put full power to the shields on the ship and hoped for the best. The crew braced for impact and everyone who could found something to hold onto and held on tight.

 

-------------------------------------------------------

 

After getting directions he made his way to MacArthur's office. He quickly deliberated with a soldier and got in. He walked up to the General, saluted and asked him what was going on.

 

"Well, were under attack. Were doing our best but I don't know how much longer we will last without reinforcements. Long range communication was cut so we can't even tell anyone what's happening." MacArthur told the young man who had busted into his office.

 

"What if I go and tell them? It's risky but I can get reinforcements and we have a shot."James knew it was risky but he knew it was their only chance.

 

"I'm not telling you to go but if you think you can make it out alive then go for it." With that James ran back to his ship with all his might getting there as fast as he could.

 

Jimmy jumped into his ship the Thing and prepared for takeoff and as he did that he prepared himself mentally, he knew he was a good pilot but he was up against the Imperial army. He expected a couple Star Destroyers and a couple hundred star fighters which probably wouldn't have been released yet. As he flew through the air he started fumbling with the controls and activated the radar jammer, he entered space and floored it. He knew they probably spotted him at this point and set up a hyper space route when it was good to go he went for if he wasn't pulled in by a tractor beam or shot down he was safe.

<>

 

((OOC:I don't exactly know if the shield thing is plausible or not so don't ask me any questions. If the radar jammer isn't allowed than just ignore it completely. And I think that escape is okay if I post it like that.))

[BLACK1]

"Emperor Black, this is Admiral Vandro of the Survivor's Foundation. I sincerely hope that this demand does not include the Survivor's Foundation, otherwise you will be in breach of treaty."

 

A soft smile set itself into his features as it commonly did when he was forced to do...political things. "Of course not, Admiral. I wholly appreciate the efforts of the Survivor's Foundation and wouldn't dare to think of hindering their valiant efforts in any way." His smile grew steadily as he spoke, beautifully covering the growing bile in his throat, rising with every passing second he was forced to placate those he considered below him. "However, I am in the middle of an engagement and cannot be dissuaded. So long as the Republic - "

 

"Sir!"

 

Behind his tinted glasses the Emperor's eyes closed in exasperation. "Pardon me for a moment, Admiral." Black flipped the switch on his chair to cut the audio and visual from the comms without directly cutting the connection itself.

 

"Can't you see I'm talking!?" As one the bridge's crew wretched back at the verbal lashing, unsure what to expect as this was their first tour with the Emperor.

 

"Yes, sir, but there is a ship trying to leave the planet."

 

"Oh, there is? Are the Interdictor Fields in place?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Excellent. Shoot it down."

 

Without hesitation or question a neat little barrage left the ships closes to the fleeing ship, ending the pilot's trek before it could ever really begin. Flicking the audio and video back on to the comm to the Foundation Admiral. "Terribly sorry for your wait. As I was saying, I intend no harm on you or your own, so long as they do not try to get in the way of my acquisition of Mon Calamari. You see, they've been using their shipyards to fuel the Rebel war machine, something I cannot allow. If you have personnel on the planet, they have my permission to leave and board your ships. However, until this situation is resolved, I must ask that you remain in orbit with me. Can't have Rebel informants sneaking aboard your ships in hopes to escape my communications blocks. I do not want to have to kill today, but without the unconditional surrender of Mon Calamari and its inhabitants, and by extension its businesses and everything else it owns, I cannot say that an orbital strike is out of the question. You understand, I'm sure. If you truly do care about the lives of these people, you will talk to the planet's leaders and convince them to do the right thing."

 

He cut the comms abruptly, knowing the Foundation would not risk losing all Imperial funding to give warning to the Rebel leaders. Not only would this obscure their firm stance of neutrality, they would lose more than funding in the future. The Republic could not protect the Survivor's Foundation while they are working tooth and nail to save their own skins.

 

<>

[James Krote]

(Defense Post)

 

James noticed that he was under fire, he thought back to his time with the smugglers that basically raised him. He remembered one tactic that was right for this situation. He used his maneuver thrusters to make an 180° turn with the engines still on, he quickly changed directions without creating an arc. He flew towards Dac at full speed. He flew close to the ocean and realized he wasn't escaping with the Empire breathing down his neck and without the option of using a hyperdrive.

[Dagon]

Regarding the lone capital ship, Killshot approved.

 

Regarding Krote: Killshot extended, neither side proved to be successful, so consider yourselves in sudden death overtime.

[BLACK1]

((Good defense post, James. Honestly the only thing you could have done. Everyone else would have wrote out a long, convoluted post trying to dodge the entire barrage.))

 

"Sir, we clipped it once or twice, but not enough to do any real damage to it. We didn't anticipate he'd turn around."

 

Yet another sigh escaped him, one of many that day, and surely not to be the last. So much disappointment. Even the Republic ship that now sat idle in space, explosions skittering across its surface like lightning strikes, gave him no satisfaction.

 

Get me on a comm to Mon Calamari again. A quick flick of a switch and he was on. You have ten minutes left to surrender. After that, expect a lot of people do die.

[Vladimir Faust]

Seven ships pull out from hyperspace at a distance from Mon Calamari, a rag tag looking affair at first glance: Five TIE-Interceptors, a lambda class shuttle, and an unknown ship of custom make. However, that seventh ship, was Vladimir Faust's Bhelliom- possessed of a cunning A.I., armorments to destroy a capital ship, and other surprises. That made the situation change very quickly, making it far from a rag tag gathering, but something deadly serious.

 

It keeps its distance from Mon Calamari, trying to stay away and out of sight and scanner range from the Emperor's fleet, and in turn, those on the surface or the shipyards. Those score of men on the other ships knew what happened in the Emperor's office and they knew what happened to Vladimir Faust. Now, for these loyalists, it was time to play their trump card. Now that war was afoot and both the Empire and Rebels were at each other's throats, it would be time to strike. They waited at the most likely point of entrance from hyperspace, keyed to that spot based on what they knew, and lined up their weapons, still keeping a careful eye on the Imperial fleet, and in particular, the Emperor's vessel.

 

The crew of each ship, as well as those in the lambda class, were loyal to Faust during his term as Emperor. Once word of his execution spread, they found it convenient to leave and drop out of sight. Orders came, and they assembled this small force, designed to achieve one and only one end: Revenge!

 

Vengence would be a dish best served cold, washed down with a brimming cup of wrath.

 

A very short range and encrypted comm buzzes out from the Bhelliom, which some observers swear looks to be empty through its tinted cockpit window. Either way, orders were orders and they dared not disobey.

 

We will remain hidden until the time is right. This will need to be a surgical strike. If we do this, we cut off the serpent's head with one fell swoop. After that, grinding the rest of the beast beneath our heel is.... academic.

 

We will wait until the right moment, specify our coordinates to do the most damage, and then strike with our hammers.

 

Aboard the lambda class shuttle, a handful of men glance at each other. Four hammers, all baradium missiles, each with a kilometer radius blast range of pure thermalnuclear disintigration. Faust invested in these weapons for his ship, outfitted them with ysalmari, and powered up their armor and deflector shields. If they struck home, they would change the face of the galaxy, eliminating the commanding crew of one of the galaxy's great powers in a single attack. If they failed, they would be dead men, all of them.

 

Patience.... and vengence... We have waited for this moment! Let the Emperor's acts not go unrewarded.

 

The Bhelliom sweeps into position, readying itself to launch its hammers of wrath and remove its target from the galaxy. Faust's vengence would be had in one, swift, sweet stroke.

 

On the lambda class, they wait at the exit point, still nervously glancing at the Bhelliom and Emperor's fleet, wondering what the Emperor knew, anticipated, or planned... They would find out for sure soon enough, once the strike began.

 

***Edit for 5/8, 4:34 A.M. Central***

 

As the preparations for the strike continues, the Bhelliom gets a comm, warning of an immenant arrival from hyperspace of the Rebel's fleet, which is quickly passed to the TIE Interceptors and the lambda class shuttle:

 

Pieces are moving right now to put the Emperor into check. Prepare to clear the board.

 

Academic really. Despite the damage Faust did before the Emperor shot him, Mon Calamari would remain critical to the Rebel's war efforts. A strike at Gala to obfuscate, and let the Emperor himself take out their support lines.

 

The seven ships ready themselves at a distance, trying to stay two kilometer's clear of where the Rebels were most likely to land, and still have a line of sight on the Emperor himself, hidden from even his forces. There would be confusion when the Rebels showed up. The Emperor could very well have his guard down. Both sides might be off guard actually. That would then give Faust's men, and his ship, time to act, and cleanse his enemy's stain in a kilometer wide baradium induced sphere of destruction.

 

For everything that happened since the Emperor put his slug clean through Faust, for all the patience that that act demanded, there would be a moment of swift vengence. The Emperor would receive full payment for what happened, for being publically known as the man that killed Vladimir Faust, with four missile launches. Served cold, then thermonuclear hot.

 

The order given with preparations to fire immenant, Faust's mechanical voice, synthesized by his ship, buzzes to the support vessels. Though otherwise emotionless, there is an almost gloating lilt from the Bhelliom's comm as the ship almost recklessly takes the forefront, giving itself the best line of sight to launch its attack.

 

Check... Check and mate.

[BLACK1]

((Three day rule. Sorry, but I have many other stops beyond this one.))

 

"Sir, we have four missiles inbound. We can't trace the source, somewhere beyond our sensors"

 

I know.

 

The officer sat reluctant in his chair for a moment, silent for fear of questioning the Emperor Himself before finally letting both his curiosity and sense of survivability get the best of him. "Would you like me to take evasive maneuvers, sir?"

 

Hold.

 

"But, sir. Their signature denotes a delivery system most commonly used with barad-"

 

You should look to your own tongue rather than four simple missiles, lieutenant. Its gone wondering.

 

"Yes, sir."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

3....2....1....

 

The very moment time ran out for the Rebel commanders of Mon Calamari, a great and terrible barrage erupted from the holds of each surrounding Imperial ship. Each firing vector shared one very special mark, the head Rebel command center, the location of which known from cross referencing the location of the previous comms exchanged between the commander and the Emperor, as well as previous intelligence gifted to them by the mole previously in place among Onderin's very own staff. Each bolt and blast touched the planetary instillation with an unforgivable and unforgettable level of devastation, sundering both brick and body without care or concern. As simply as the Rebel commanders had refused to answer, the building had been transformed into a blazing inferno, the flames of which rising so high into the Mon Calamari sky it could be seen for miles around.

 

Find the best suitable place to put a garrison. After it is deployed, waste no time rounding up the Rebel personnel (Krote). They'll be taken to Oovoo IV with the others.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Within the hour the garrison was up, POW's rounded up and contained in the next. Without the call for evacuation, or any other forms of precautionary orders, a vast majority of the Rebel men and women had died in the initial barrage, several more in the resulting conflagration. Of the initial Rebel personnel, only a handful remained to be considered prisoners. Though, as a short concession to the Survivor's Foundation, the wounded were left to the care of the Foundation's workers elsewhere on the planet surface. There was no need to spend any more credits fixing them up, especially after he had just spent so much to injure them in the first place. Let the Rebels pay for their wounded and dying.

[Cadio Sikaot]

With a flash of light that outshone the stars 59 New Republic vessels burst forth from the abyss of hyperspace above the blue sphere that was Mon Calamari. Vice-Admiral Cadio Sikaot stood at the helm of the flagship Sunrider watching as the fleet deployed to their pre-designated positions. It would have been a thing of beauty if the planet below had not been faced with so much destruction and devestation in the previous months.

 

"Find out what has gone on here and if we still have any troops left on the ground. As soon as we are prepared we will take out any Imperial forces that have been left here."

 

So much destruction. How was it possible that a few evil men could take a planet so beautiful and turn it into a place of war? Furthermore, why would they do it? These were the questions that had spawned Cadio's desire to join the Rebellion when it had still been called the Rebellion. Over his years with the Republic he had seen many things, and had been to Mon Calamari many times, but it had never looked this distraught. The peaceful beings who inhabited the planet had done nothing to deserve what they had recieved.

 

"Get me the Survivor's Foundation."

 

A few seconds after he had requested the comm link he got an affirmitive nod from the young comm officer.

 

--Comm-

 

Good day,

 

This is Cadio Sikaot of the New Republic. I am wondering if you can fill me in on what has happened here since I left a few weeks ago. Obviously I did not come earlier enough.

 

--End Comm--

[Survivor's Foundation]

The reply from Esperanza came quickly, terse and to-the-point. ”œVice-Admiral,”

[Vladimir Faust]

Hung in the distance, about halfway between the Imperial fleet and the Rebels and further away from the planet, the Bhelliom waits for precious seconds, then fires its missiles at the target. All four spring to life, their targets locked into their droid brains, their deflector shields springing to life to give them minimal protection. Speed and stealth were still their best ally. Though they had a powerful energy source, they might escape immediate detection, and failing that, they needed to be only so close before they were lethal. Shields enough for a fatal run to decimate his enemy's fleet.

 

With the missiles launched, the Bhelliom and its support ships wheel around immediately, attempting a quick egress. In part they are wary of the attention this attack will bring. Also the collateral damage of the four missiles, launched in spread would not discriminate if the missiles made a miscalculation in their blast radius. Closed to communications, they could not be hacked, only destroyed before they were in range to annihilate the Sunrider. Faust's revenge would be complete.

 

With a weary eye on space, Vladimir Faust, in the flesh, senses all this. Though the Bhelliom is beyond even his visual sight, his cybernetic link is sufficient to know exactly what happened, and where those missiles would head, and hit.

 

Though locked deep in battle mediatation, the subtle edges of his anger and hate driving on followers and giving them a coordinated vision of the battle, Faust reflects on events that drew him here. As he reflects, one hand draws itself to the armored breastplate, where he knows a pair of scars wait underneath on his chest and back. A small price to pay for this opportunity.

 

Being held prisoner, wheeled in and shot point blank by the Emperor. The speed of the gun meant the bullet passed through him before he could even feel it, going clean through his chest, the Mandalorian missing any vital organs, though only barely. Even so, shock nearly hit, causing Faust to pass out and for the Imperials, under Reagan's direction, to bury him alive in a bacta filled coffin. Word would still spread of Faust's untimely demise, giving him the chance to crush the Rebellion.

 

A brilliant plan, but not one of his making.

 

Turning his head, the effort of battle meditation causing sweat to drip down his face, Faust speaks to the man not fourteen meters away from him on the bridge aboard the Solemn Harbinger; close, but not close enough to damper his meditation with his pariah powers.

 

"My Emperor," he states cooly, speaking to Emperor Black himself, "the package is launched. Malstross' intel from Gala was correct." As it would be. Faust had faith in the former Moff, though time would come soon enough to let them all know of his plan to work with the Empire. Even to pawns, trusted pawns, one need not reveal the whole game plan until necessary. The missiles were honed to target the quickest, safest egress point from Gala, well distant from the Imperial fleet and fatal to the rebels. Clustered, each missile in its spread set out a kilometer wide radius of destruction designed to cripple the fleet and knock out the Sunrider.

 

Faust's cold, icy blue eyes peel over to the window where a blinding flash is seen. A wide spread swath of destruction, nearly four kilometers across lights up the distance between Faust and the Rebel's fleet. A joyous smile, one of pure rapture clenches the Sith's face in that single instant- the plan succeeded! Or did it?

 

((Killshot requested on Cadio))

[Cadio Sikaot]

((Defense Post))

 

As the blue sphere that was Mon Calamari rotated below, Cadio Sikaot stood at the forward viewport of the New Republic cruiser Sunrider listening to the drivel of the Survivor's Foundation. The organization's attempt to remain neutral was futile. Eventually they would be forced to choose which faction they would support or face destruction. Like many things in life it was inevitable. But that didn't concern him now. He would accept whatever help they were willing to offer and make due.

 

"Engage the Imperial fleet," he stated calmly. "Move two-thirds of the fleet into attack positions and give the order to fire at will. The other nineteen ships will hold back until they are needed with the primary objective of defending our flank. Emperor Black is not a stupid man by any stretch. He'll have reserves waiting out of sight."

 

The brilliance that followed was nothing short of amazing to Cadio. He had seen many battles and many wars but nothing stood out more in his mind than the coordination of a well-trained fleet. The way every ship moved in tandem with the others in a sort of intricate dance was every bit as astonishing the hundredth time one saw it was it was the first. He truly believed that it was something that every person should witness at least once in their lifetime, though better circumstances would be appreciated.

 

"Sir, we have missiles incoming!" Cadio turned as the voice rang out across the bridge. Though he appreciated the seriousness of the situation he would have to remember to remind the young man that yelling things across the bridge was not proper protocol, but for now he ignored it. Calm. Calm was the only emotion that Cadio could allow to show given the circumstances. The better he presented himself the calmer the bridge crew would remain and the higher the chance that they would come out of this alive.

 

"Reroute any non-essential power to the forward shields. All forward batteries will reacquire those missiles as their primary target. Fire as soon as the missiles are targeted. We cannot allow them to get close enough to detonate."

 

As he watched his orders being carried out Cadio remembered all of the times in his service that his life had been threatened. He had narrowly escaped death when Tatooine had been destroyed at the beginning of the last Arach'tar invasion. He had survived countless campaigns with the New Republic that had been much more intense than this current conflict. Was he really going to let four little missiles bring his demise? Not if he had anything to say about it. Too much had been sacrificed and too much had been lost to go down without a fight.

 

Forty-five seconds to impact!

 

The ship rocked the slightest bit as all of the forward batteries opened fire as one. Flashes of light burst through the dark abyss of vacuum, racing towards their lethal targets. Serenity. There was nothing left but serenity in all of Cadio's being. If he died here today it would not be because he hadn't done everything in his power to stop it from happening. It would be because his adversaries had proven themselves better than he, and strangely he was okay with that. There was no use looking at the past when there was so much that the future could hold.

 

"Thirty seconds!"

 

Cadio walked to the voice's point of origin. He looked down at the young man and allowed a light smile to grace his complexion. "Calm yourself. Remember what you have been taught and remember that those who are in the batteries have been trained just as well as you have. We will come out victorious today."

 

With this Cadio serenely made his way to the command chair of the vessel. He sat down and brought his arms up to rest in their intended position. He leaned back and slowly closed his eyes. If he was going to die today he would die in peace. The bridge grew eerily silent as he did so. All eyes on the bridge were directed at him and he smiled wider. The crew had accepted whatever fate they believed the power's that be would bestow upon them.

 

"Fifteen seconds”¦" came the soft call. All this drew from him was a nod of acceptance.