A world of fire

[Almira Izlay'ti]

Burning...​

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Blazing...​

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Searing heat....​

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A world of ash and fire, its crust torn open and molten life pouring through the cracks. The fire burning away all the impurities whilst those being and creatures of flame rise up and forge the world in their own image. The atmosphere pure, filled with smoke and ash that blows upon the heated air. Here is where you shall call home, and this shall be where you rise. ​

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She woke in a cold sweat, the vision having taken its toll upon her as she took a heavy breath. Though she had seen something. A world of fire and ash, and there standing upon the surface was the Mythra Maiden. The woman clad in armor showing her the way to the world that was to be their home. Yet she did not know where to begin, all she could remember were that the stars were familiar. ​

​

Pulling herself out of the bed, she slipped on a silk gown, pulling it around herself as she ran a hand through her hair. The silver locks cascading down her back as red hues peered out of the view screen. The room was darkened, the lights shut off to allow for some form of a night and day cycle, though sleep these days often eluded her. ​

​

Each time she closed her eyes there was the world. There was the voice. There were the stars above and finally it clicked. Their new home was in the Unknown Regions. A world that was more than likely found and forgotten since ages gone by. ​

​

Turning she rushed herself to become presentable. Her gown pulled on as she moved as swiftly as if she were preparing for battle. Heavy thudding echoed through the halls as she rushed to the bridge before pulling up the star maps of the Unknown Region. Now was where it began. Though she would need aid, and there was plenty of that to be had by those whom sought to carve out their own lives in the Outer Rim Territories. All it took was a message, and payment. ​

​

[member="Lysandra"]​

[member="Lok Jorunn"]​

[member="Ultimatum"]​

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]​

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Almira Magrath"]

Jaster just retrieved his fleet, they were running a transport of the labs and new facility's. The new fleet that Jaster brought were four Crusader class Corvettes, two MC80 Liberty type Star Cruiser, and Jasters Hammerhead Class Cruiser. This brough 1,000 crewmen and transport for 10,000 troops, Jaster did not have his Orda with him, but he was turning up for the next mission. All lab equipment was moved off the ships and now only the bone crew was left to man the fleet.

Jaster radioed the main space craft, "Command fleet, this is Admiral Jaster Awaud, the 2nd Orda fleet has arrived for reassignment," Jaster pulled out a data pad, "2nd division is on patrol, umbrella personel are setting up genetics lab in Silver Station, main fleet still on transport mission."

Jaster toused the data pad to one of the officers, then walked to the battle map and waited for the responce from command fleet.

 

[Lysandra]

Violet wisps danced in the peripherals of bright blue eyes, wriggling and writhing like little tadpoles as the reverberating hum of the solar conductors groaned into the large ovular room. Puffs of tepid air blew through the vents lining the glowing roof, the rhythmic exhaling and inhaling summoning an orange hue to wash over the lone female's vision. The louder the sound the brighter the colour, a fact that greatly intrigued the withering biologist when he was met with Lysandra's rambling explanation. Sure enough, the elderly keeper of the oxygen garden on board the Hera was notified of a certain half Echani making the colourful area of the ship her place of refuge and tranquility. One could not simply refuse the company of Almira Magrath's younger sister, let alone vouch for another segment of the great starship, and after several days of relinquishing his doubt and suspicion the old biologist quickly found the young woman's presence comforting, in an odd little way.

She was completely unlike her sister, driven by curiosity and wanderlust rather than the ambition and revenge that riddled the Raulynate's brave young leader. Alas, here she was, bravely venturing into the fiery abyss of war all the while tending to the plants and flowers that were safe enough to grow on board.

Seated cross legged, barefoot and clothed in nothing but a flimsy velvoid dress, Lysandra mulled over one of the luminescent parixispores taken from Xasuri's Eden. The lemon shaped buds were yet to bloom, still hiding the exotic flower's beauty. It was said to bring good luck, a blessing from Xantor, the god of wishes himself and although the young woman tended to its leaves and fed it only the richest of nutrients she could find on board it still was yet to bloom. With soiled hands and furrowed brows the slender beauty leered at the plant, quietly cursing it for its laziness. If anyone deserved the blessing of Xantor it should be Almira, for her crusade was a righteous one.

For several minutes the young woman sat with the plant nestled between her skinny thighs, lightly swaying to the heavy breaths of the ventilation system as she attempted to coax the flower into being. "Xantor, lord of wishes who wishes for better hearing." She mumbled, sighing. With no luck and an irked click of her tongue, Lysandra gently returned the paroxispore back to its place in the garden, pursing her pink lips before running a hand through her snowy hair. Clumps of black soil embedded themselves into the ivory locks, remaining trapped between the silky tendrils as the young woman hopped to her feet and weaved her way around the clusters of sweetgrass and pomegranates. She could not recall how long she'd been in the garden, so long in fact that her new friend, the elderly biologist, was now snoring at his desk in the far corner of the room.

It was time to find her sister, make sure she was doing well and it would be on her return that the flower would bloom, or so she fervently told herself.

Daintily stepping out of the oxygen garden, the young woman breezed past several stout men garbed in armour, their massive builds making her look like a child in comparison. Offering them each a smile, Lysandra quietly skipped past the armoury and its cacophony of reddish noise before slipping through several armed guards and finally on to the bridge of the ship. Completely disregarding the faint trail of footprints in her wake, Lysandra breathed a content little sigh of relief before silently slinking around the taller figure of her elder sister. On the tips of her toes, the porcelain skinned female kissed Almira's cheek, offering her a coy little smile before taking a seat atop the nearby railing.

"Something ails you sister, you look...tired." She murmured, swinging her legs beneath her before offering the large star map a curious glance.

 

[Lok Jorunn]

It never took long for word of a quick job and easy payment to make its rounds in the Unknown Regions and the Outer Rim. It was where the other half of the galaxy lived, the half that lacked any semblance of hospitable, pleasant life nor did many of the citizens have anything to hope for. Life itself was a blessing out on these war-scarred, rebuilding worlds from decades upon decades of internal feuds or the far stretching conflict between the Sith and their Jedi foes.

But there were a few places in which life could be found, places where it even prospered.

The Trident was one such place. Lok Jorunn had used his own money and a few loans from his old pals with the Red Ravens to secure this ol' Attrition-class Star Destroyer for personal use. It wasn't so much personal as his own quarters were only one among the thousands of others that housed his entire crew and some of their families. Humans, Duros, Bothans, Gamorreans, Rodians, Noghri, and a multitude of droids called the Star Destroyer home. The floating hulk was its own world, a melting pot of cultural diversity and of a people united to finding their place in this galaxy.

If a crewman found a world he desired to inhabit, or he found some nice girl somewhere, he was free to depart and live his life. But most of them didn't. They had been with Lok, Alai, Hog, and Sev since the beginning. Each and every one of these poor, stricken souls was bound to this ship more so than the very flesh coating their bones. They had sweat, cried, and bled on these hallowed halls and nothing would ever separate them. Sure civil disputes and fights broke out - after all, they were all pirates - but there was a structure of power. It all led directly to Lok.

"Boss, you see this?" Alai chortled, nudging the Captain rather roughly with an elbow. "Somethin' about a Mistress Magrath lookin' for a little help with... something. Not really sure what this Mistress needs help with but she's offerin' quite the bit of credits for dutiful service." The dark-skinned man shrugged at the datapad before passing it on over to the golden-maned man seated beside him.

Lok finished swallowing a mouthful of Nerfsteak stew before dragging a sleeve across his mouth. "Looks shady as feth," he remarked. "Got coordinates or whatever on it? Sure don't wanna be fallin' into one of those Fed traps again - it took weeks to repair the hibridium drive." The pirate captain filled his spoon and jammed the utensil back into his mouth, chewing the meat thoughtfully.

Alai peered at him with grey eyes, "We really could use those credits. We need some new service droids, some more food processors, and maybe one o' them molecular furnaces I been readin' 'bout." He gave another nonchalant shrug, "But it's your call, Cap."

Their swashbuckler of a captain nodded as he finished his little meal, glancing at the datapad with golden eyes. "Yeah, I feel ya. Let's do it. Get Hog and Sev on the line and get us into hyperspace in three minutes. Duty stations for all personnel." The pirate rubbed his eyes and yawned, "Get on with it, Lai."

"Aye, aye."

[member="Lysandra"], [member="Jaster of clan Awaud"], [member="Almira Magrath"], [member="Ultimatum"]

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum had found his way, unexpectedly, into a position that would have him aiding organics in a search for something important to any species, a planet they could call home. It was interesting, that he actually felt something akin to sympathy for the organics. Maybe it was more like empathy. He didn't usually find himself thinking about himself, however the plight that these organics had been through seemed to bring thoughts to his mind. A new world, one that they could call home. He didn't have a home, his place of creation, or birth if one wanted to be more dramatic, had been a planet with little in the way of artificial life. That planet had been a land of pain for him, he had lived underneath a master who was a hypocrite, claiming that he wanted to help the galaxy while taking part in its criminal element.

Here he was, aboard a large starship; he had been told that it was the same ship that the person he was working for was aboard. He had avoided going to the bridge for now, there was always so much bustle on the bridges of organic controlled ships. If he ever built a ship, he told himself, it would be commanded by a single computer, thus eliminating the space and adding it to somewhere more useful. He was actually looking through a viewport on the ship, waiting to be summoned. He had assumed that he would be allowed to look around the ship a little.

[member="Almira Magrath"]
[member="Lok Jorunn"]
[member="Lysandra"]
[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Ultimatum"] [member="Lok Jorunn"] [member="Lysandra"] [member="Almira Magrath"]

"Admiral, command request you on the bridge as soon as possible," the radio clameres as the static was mixed with the call, "please comply and report."

Jaster was at his battle map of the Galaxy monitoring the new supply lines he had set up. The troop movements were on time and lab equipment for his company were also on point. The monitor glowed in the blue tent as dots and arrows slowly moved across the map. Jaster looked at his communication officer, a young women, to reply with his departure. After notifying his XO of the needed maneuvers and plans, Jaster set out to the hanger bay. There he entered the shuttle that was to carry him to the main ship. He was accompanied by two Mandalorian Marines as he entered the craft.

They lifted off and exited the Hammerhead class Cruiser and left the fleet, he left orders for the protected defense of the main fleet. The Star Cruisers both flanked the main ship and the corvettes maneuvered into a defensive posistion on all four points around the fleet. Jaster felt safer with the 2 fleets combined.

The shuttle docked with the main craft and Jaster exited his shuttle. He was no longer in his admiral uniform but his company trenchcoat and wearing all black. The only thing out of place was the green and white umbrella logo on his trench coat. He walked with power as his boots made contact with the floor. Even his marines were in all black, umbrella logos over there shoulders and weapons slung over there shoulders. Jaster walked through the garden, the small was peaceful but Jaster couldn't stop, the mission and a million other things were on hand.

He reached the bridge, heavy armored guards were near everywhere. Jaster would approach and as the guards did not salute, Jaster felt belittled by there unwilling to honor his rank. He moved on, just outside the range of the two sisters Jaster bowed on one knee and placed his right hand over his chest. "Mistress, Jaster Awaud of the Umbrella Interest reporting as ordered, you will is my bidding ma'an."

 

[Almira Izlay'ti]

Slender fingers moved over the map as it slowly rotated before her. Red hues gazing deep upon the small blips that marked the worlds that were near. Somewhere in that little cluster was the world that she had seen. Closing her eyes for a moment, she turned her head and looked out the view port. The vessels that she had gathered were waiting for commands, and a few scouting vessels were on standby. Though she was awaiting others whom had received and returned an acceptance to the call. ​

​

Her mind was filled with thoughts, a flurry of emotions and ideas, only quieted for a moment by the unexpected peek upon her cheek. How long had it been since she was on the vessel? Though she stood up for a moment as her red hues slowly opened, falling upon the young girl that clambered up onto a small rail to allow her feet to kick about the air. Her younger sister always bringing a bright point to any day, and things were getting better as she thought. Though she still seemed to refuse to accept a normal room, which did not bother Almira as much as it seemed to others. ​

​

"Visions. A world of fire and ash." ​

​

For now she spoke nothing of the Mythra Maiden, the one that had shown her the world that was to be their home. There were few among those that she had gathered to even believed in the deity. Taking a moment she stood before moving away from the map, walking the length of the bridge to the viewing screen. Red hues peering into the empty void of space before her, arms clasped behind her back before she spun on her heel. ​

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Stepping towards the map anew, she brought her hand up, a slender finger pointing simply at a small dot in the distance. Then her finger moved towards two others, marking them for the probes and scouting vessels to check. Her concentration momentarily broken as an aide stepped forward. ​

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"Ma'am, there has been a response. We are expecting another vessel." ​

​

Nodding softly she kept her red hues forward. Gazing upon the map of stars as she spoke softly. ​

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"Gather your vessels. Send your fastest scouts in all directions. They are looking for a world or fire and ash. Give the order..."​

​

Her voice trailed for a moment. A decision was in her mind, one that could cause many to either revere her or detest her. Steeling herself as she pulled herself to stand tall. Her arms behind her back as she sighed softly before looking over her shoulder. ​

​

"Give the order that all scouts are to self destruct if captured. We can not allow our position or our mission from being discovered." ​

​

[member="Lysandra"]​

[member="Lok Jorunn"]​

[member="Ultimatum"]​

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]​

 

[Lysandra]

Lysandra cared little for war, invasions and the like, preferring the music and melody of life in all of it's playful oddities to the sound of death and desecration. She was bred for artistry, not aggression and whilst many believed her to be an unhealthy distraction for the Raulynate's ambitious leader Lysandra thought herself the much need beacon of impish idealism to keep her sister from wandering into the bog of murderous genocide. Alas, her time spent skipping through her sister's ship granted the young woman the forethought to remain still during the time of her sibling's intense ruminations. As much as Lysandra preferred the idea of relieving her sister of such heavy woes she knew it would only come under the veil of privacy and away from the curious glances of the men that followed Almira into war.

One such man, garbed in armour and with a face as steely as the tips of his heavy boots, was the first to arrive when Almira made her summons. His voice was like gravel against Lysnarda's ears, crackling bubbles of brown and green swarming her peripherals as she listened to his polite introduction. Caring little for his station or her own role in all of this, the young woman happily waved at the newcomer like a child would a beast in a zoo. He was a stranger, someone she'd yet to have the pleasure of meeting and the shamelessly gluttonous seconds of taking in his presence was enough to entertain the easily distracted half Echani.

"A man dressed in steel will melt in a world of fire and ash." She cooed, blinking at the Mandolorian before glancing at the woman she'd gleefully followed not so long ago. Proud her sister was, proud and beautiful. Commanding fearless men and dragging them into the very corners of the galaxy if that was what it took to satiate her dreams. Lysandra sat in awe, with lips pursed and fingers interlocked her bright blue gaze followed the figure of the woman that sought the elusive planet.

Words were spoken, tempered with a modicum of resistance before the harsh truth shattered the tepid air of Hera's bridge. Blinking at the odd little order, Almira's younger sister remained silent, awaiting the reaction of the men the order was given to.

[member="Almira Magrath"], [member="Jaster of clan Awaud"], [member="Ultimatum"], [member="Lok Jorunn"]

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Hyperspace was just so... gloriously entertaining. The spiraling cosmic twirl of star systems, galaxies, and even universes just churned before their very eyes as they flew through the vast emptiness of space with impunity. It really was a marvel at how the whole galaxy had created something as innovative and useful such as this little engine. Without it, nothing as the galaxy knew it would be in existence. No Sith, no Jedi, no anything.

"Boss," Alai cut through Lok's train of thought. "We're just about there. Everyone's where they should be an' all battle stations have been prepped like you asked for. I ain't got the slightest clue as to what's out there waitin' for us but it sure does sound a bit strange." The younger man peered up at him from behind the operations console. "I mean, why call literally anyone out here? What does this Mistress even want?"

"I've got no clue, man, but I'm sure that it won't be easy - the job, I mean." The captain ran a few fingers through his golden locks and straightened them out a bit, "If this thing goes down the drain real quick, we best be bailin' as soon as it happens. Be prepared to do that, Alai."

Alai nodded and glanced at his chrono. "Exiting hyperspace now, brace for gravity alterations." The Trident lurched into realspace without a care in the world. A Star Destroyer had just dropped into the middle of some sort of battle fleet and things didn't look so swell, especially not with each ship of this Mistress bristling with weapons and seemingly filled with all sorts of unsavory types.

"Uh-oh. You sure we got the right place?"

"It's right, me and Hog triple checked the coordinates. We're in the right spot."

"Why does it look like they're going to war?"

Lok shrugged, moving for the communications panel. "Maybe they are." Lok keyed in the commander's password and accessed another command module, pulling up a HoloNet database before erecting a secure, encrypted communications line between his vessel at that of this Mistress's.

//TRANSMISSION INCOMING :: START//

"This is Captain Lok Jorunn of the Trident. I'm here responding to a summoning regarding a job for a Raulynate, or whatever it's called. I desire for confirmation of the rendezvous. Be advised, we are armed and ready. Don't do anything stupid."

//TRANSMISSION SENT :: END//

[member="Lysandra"], [member="Almira Magrath"], [member="Jaster of clan Awaud"], [member="Ultimatum"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Lok Jorunn"] [member="Lysandra"] [member="Almira Magrath"]

Jaster still held his head down, he was to respect the orders of his people's savor. She was no god to them, but she offered a home to many who wondered through space. A world of fire, this was not the promise of land and home they were given. Though none the less men and women of his armada cheered as a new world was offered as salvation. The millions of refugees and Madalorians he transported across the galaxy now were offered a place away from the battles and wars.

Jaster did not care much for it though, he had a company to run and fleets to handle. He did this for the people he was to protect, blind loyalty was not earned from this new mistress and her sister. He was under oath though, sworn honor on the line to do as they ordered. His men and women would die for any cause. Though Jasters word was law, and death on any battlefield was a death of honor. It would not be the mistresses order, but Jasters order to send 160 crew to their death.

An oath was an oath though, "Yes, mistress," Jaster stood. He removed his company helmet and placed it under his arm. He was a dark skinned human, his face was wary of war as a scar marked his upper lip crossing his lip meeting his chin.

As the mistress sister spoke, Jaster looked at her as she turned, "I am a worrier of ship, not land, but the loom of death does not fear any of us."

Jaster continued to walk to the communications terminal, "Crusader 02 and Crusader 04, break fomation, scout location of specified cords, code red secrecy in effect, honor in combat men."

As Jaster finished, the captains of the ship responded, "Yes, Admiral, Hail the Mistress."

The crew seemed more dedicated to the leader more then Jaster would have inticipated. This was an interesting development and one he would watch closely on a later note.

As the destroyer exited hyperspace, Jaster looked at the transferred communications link. Looking back at the Mistress and her sister, they gave a nod. "Destoyer Trident, Command has allowed your combination into the fleet, move into position as follows from follow up order."

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Ultimatum"] [member="Almira Magrath"] [member="Lysandra"]

They had waited in formation for hours now waiting for the scouts to report, they should have been back earlier, though the crews of the fleet were not as roused as Jaster was. When Jaster did a moral call, the captains of the ships showed that they were at ease and calm. A looming interest as Jaster was facing mutiny only weeks before. If Jaster was to guess they seemed to follow the mistresses orders better then for their Admiral, Jaster. This was slightly unsettling, though it was not accounted for, and Jaster was aware of it.

He had received a message from his 3 Escort Groups, they were making their rounds of the Healer Guilds refugee camps. Some men gossiped about the Mistress and her vision to end the violence of war. Jaster allowed it as he only saw it as slight gossip between soldiers. Now though, refugees and others were now requesting transport to follow the Almira, the number itself was larger then anything Jaster could have imagined. He had planned to recruit citizens from refugee camps and send envoys to planets ravaged by the conflict, and with the astonishing number from mire gossip, Jaster was worried of the following support.

Just as Jaster was going to deliver the report to his leader, a single Crusader class Corvette exited hyperspace. "This is-" static came over the radio, "-ader 04, se-.. -data stream."

The data was transferred to Jaster consel, he didn't read the scouting report as he was sure the Misteress would want to be the first to read it.

Jaster turned and walked up to [member="Almira Magrath"], "Ma'am, the scouts report," he handed her the data pad with the transferred notes. "also ma'am, there has been a report from my Companies refugee camps," Jaster looked over the report again to make sure he read it correctly, "approximately 10 million refugees have asked for transport into your domain and wish to swear loyalty to your cause, if you wish I can order a correct count and work to figure out if this report it true or not."

Jaster figured it was true, but such numbers were outrageous, that was nearly half of all the refugees Jaster had gathered. From the 9 refugee camps he had set up, nearly only 23 million made up their total population. There had to have been a mistake somewhere.

 

[Almira Izlay'ti]

Hours waiting could tear a person's mind apart. It was not the simple waiting, it was waiting and doing nothing as the time slowly crawled by. Almira had thus moved towards the front of the bridge of the Hera. Dropping to her knees, she had closed her eyes and waited. Meditating as she saw flashes of the world within her mind. A small smirk slowly growing as the hours continued to crawl forward. ​

​

As if on command, her eyes shot open the moment the vessel dropped from hyperspace. Red hues falling upon it at the far end of the fleet, a small smirk remaining on her lips as she pulled herself to stand. Slowly turning, her hair moved only slightly to the changing movement of its body. The woman moved back towards the map as she looked to her young sister and smiled, finally having a reply that was long over due. ​

​

"There are ways to keep a man of metal from melting on a world of fire and ash. Just as there are ways of keeping one from drowning on a world of water." ​

​

A hand rose and slightly touched the young woman's cheek before Almira turned back towards the map. Before she could take hold of the datapad, a navigator stepped forward. Taking the datapad and returning to his station to begin inputting the data for it to be shown on the map. Then the talk turned to a strange subject. ​

​

Followers, millions as the man had said. Keeping her back to him for a moment, she allowed the soft smile she had gathered from her mother's side to grow across her lips. Turning slowly, she looked upon the Mandalorian. She could hear a clear and present worry upon his voice as he spoke. ​

​

"Request a recount. I would rather know the true numbers than a speculative amount. If needed there is one whom can be of aide."​

​

Looking pass the Mandalorian, she nodded to a crew member whom quickly rushed to the small group collected around the star map on the bridge. Almira leaning in closer to him before speaking softly. ​

​

"Bring the droid to the bridge. We may have use for him after all beyond him looking shiny." ​

​

[member="Lysandra"]​

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]​

[member="Ultimatum"]​

 

[Ultimatum]

A regular droid would have no understanding of the word boredom. It was simply not possible for most droids to appreciate that sensation. They could not be bored because for them there was no concept. The time where they did nothing would be classified as non-functioning time. Unfortunately for Ultimatum, he was not a regular droid. As a specialized unit, built with an unique AI, hr understood and felt most emotions, including boredom. Like most sentients he had tried to combat the sense of boredom with work, however for organics that would usually mean physical labor. For Ultimatum looking through the HoloNet and reading information. This could only go on so long before reading became tedious, even if it was stimulating information.

He was glad then, when he was asked to come to the bridge. He turned his thoughts to the hunt that had been going on for the people. It was interesting, actually hunting for a planet when there were thousands of uninhabited planets out there. Why they searched for a specific one, Ultimatum did not ask, organics were strange that way. He knew that the planet was supposed to be volcanic, or at least mostly so. There were a large number of planets that fit that requirement. Further refinement was required.

By the time Ultimatum found his way to the bridge, he had viewed information on and removed little over a dozen planets from the possible list. Once on the bridge he changed his attention to [member="Almira Magrath"], he assumed that she was the one who had called him to the bridge. "I am here. How may I help?" He asked, giving a slight bow.

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"] [member="Lysandra"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Ultimatum"] [member="Almira Magrath"] [member="Lysandra"]

Jaster bowed, he would do as his commander asked, so after he recovered from his bow he walked to his terminal and sent the message back. He didn't wait of course, moving on to preparing the fleet to move. He wished he had taken a look at the report, knowing why only one of his corvettes returned was concerning to him, plus the one had its communication down. This mission was turning into a very concerning exsperiance. He had half the mind to take his fleet, and return to their original mission.

His concerns were that his fleet would not survive the exsperiance or possibly loose one of his larger crafts. He was here on his companies dime, he asked for no money in return for the use of his fleet. His company had interest in the future of this cause, a territory in the Unknown Region could turn a nice profit. This he invested in the future of this women's ideas and her leadership to gather others. He needed this to suceed as much as she needed his fleet, if she needed it at all, so he needed to play nice.

He leaned over his terminal, without the scouts data or observation, the only possible formation was the Piercing Formation. Destroyer at front, with the Star Crusiers at the wings, the tips would be with the crusader class, followed up with the flagship and a crusader in the rear. This formation would allow for a quick defense of the need arose, if there was a fighter group the crusaders could fall back and protect the flagship. This formation would have to work if they were to enter hyperspace without knowing the scouting data.

As the fleet finished it movement into posistion Jaster turned to face Almira, "Ma'am, the fleet is in position and ready to move out on your orders."

 

[Lysandra]

The flickering lights of the control panel not far from where the young woman was perched temporarily lulled her into a wide eyed daze, the flashes of burning white and crimson dancing in view as she swung her feet too and fro. A relatively easy distraction, one that entertained Lysandra for several moments as she half heartedly listened in on the conversation between the collection of important people surrounding her. She knew little about ships, cared about the lumbering metal behemoths just as much as she did the politics that raged across the galaxy, which was little. Alas, the sound of her sister's voice and the replies of the heavily armoured Mandalorian was enough keep the ebullient half Echani relatively content.

As their voices drifted into her head, tendrils of colours waltzed into view, melding into one another like a rainbow caught in a maelstrom. Her sister's voice moved like oil, slick and slippery it slid through her peripherals just as easily as it would over water. It was a pleasant sound, one that summoned a milieu of happy memories that blossomed a warm sensation deep within the pale faced half breed.

"Ah Death. Big black bog of bothers that buries the beasts and the beauties." Lysandra ruminated with lips puckered, a low whistle escaping her mouth as if she were calling out to some lost spirit trapped above the bridge of the Hera. Whether her melodic musing was an answer to the Mandalorian's rebuttal to her earlier statement was vague at best for the young woman had already dashed the thought from her mind.

Scrunching her toes, Lysandra waded through the passage of silence and uneventfulness with her mind lost in the colourful oblivion of her imagination. This momentary euphoria was eventually stolen away when she heard the distinctive sound of her sibling's footsteps and a warm hand press against her cheek. What a lovely sight her sister was, so calm and beautiful even when she was rallying armies to her cause. Lysandra blushed, a stray giggle escaping her lips as Almira voiced the answer to the man of metal and their world of fire.

Whatever answer would have spouted from her pink lips was swiftly silenced when the mechanical rhythm of a droid's footsteps drummed into her mind. From a man of metal to a metal man, such an occurrence summoned an amused little grin to slip over the young woman's mouth.

Hopping off the railing, the guileless flower child quickly found herself leaning into the shiny creation, blue eyes tracing the silver curves of its exoskeleton like a child would to a strange bug. Lysandra was dwarfed by the droid, a skinny and pale creature standing on the very tips of her toes to reach the tops of its gleaming shoulders.

"What a curious creature." She whispered, circling the droid before glancing at her sister. "Is this the metal magician that will bring you this fiery planet?" Lysandra chirped, wide eyes never leaving the droid's sleek face.

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"], [member="Ultimatum"], [member="Almira Magrath"]

 

[Almira Izlay'ti]

Almira had in that time brought her attention back to the map that slowly rotated before her, the data flashing as a small smirk crossed her lips. Red hues glued upon the orb that was slowly spinning before, her hand coming up and lightly running along the image. A small dotting line pointing to its location as she looked up when she heard her sister's melodic voice call out as she was so enamored with the droid. The metallic foot falls echoing through the bridge as Almira turned her attention back to the map before her. ​

​

Taking a moment, she ran her hand along the console before picking up a small datapad and moving around the navigational map. Looking at the datapad, she slipped forward, holding it up for the droid to take before turning away. Pointing towards another console on the vessel before motioning silently. Her voice cracking the silence in answering to her sister's standing question. ​

​

"Numbers are a thing that are best left to those machines that can process them beyond what a simple being can. If we have millions desiring to follow us we can not merely estimate their total. He will not bring me to our fiery planet, he will bring the numbers of those that wish to follow." ​

​

A small smirk crossed her lips as she gave a silent nod to the droid, a slight bow of respect for the abilities that it had and those that she lacked. Turning her attention back towards the vessels, she slipped away from the navigational area tucked into the back of the bridge. Stepping forward, she walked along the upper portion that overlooked the console pits below. Standing quietly for a moment, she brought her hands behind her back. ​

​

"Helmsman... take us home." ​

​

A rapid fire salute and the sound of clicking boots was more than enough for an answer when the general call was given. ​

​

"Entering hyperspace." ​

​

[member="Lysandra"]​

[member="Ultimatum"]​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]​

 

[Ultimatum]

His attention had been broken for a moment, there was a lot visual data to keep track of, then there was the movement, sudden followed by stimulus to his metallic shell. It was an uncommon effect that he had only experienced once before. His processors felt considerable lag as they tried valiantly to keep up the information. It was strange that this happened, he could handle insanely large amounts of information, but when he was recording the information as well as transferring it to the HoloNet. On top of that, the emotional matrix in his system was acting up. He was quite upset with the fact that his personality programs were based on a young human male, one who he loathed.

He stayed silent as he was handed the datapad, he didn't completely comprehend his purpose with this. It had to do with numbers. It also had to do with collecting information on organics who would follow this expedition. It was an interesting fact that he still did not comprehend about organics, that they were not all united on their goals. He wondered if there would ever be a time when organics would work together for no other reason than the greater good. He doubted it.

He followed the rest of the crew with a slight salute, trying to avoid moving too much so as not to disturb the young woman leaning on him. That one was quite interesting. She seemed to have an intelligence as well as a strange creative sense. He couldn't tell completely.

[member="Almira Magrath"] [member="Lysandra"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Jaster was becoming angry, this women, this [member="Almira Magrath"], was nothing more then a figure head of a fleeing religion. One that Jaster didn't really believe in. Along with that she was acting as a commander of an army and Jaster did not see that, he could not see her as a political figure either. She would lead Jaster people to ruin, where they wished for hope, and she did not show it. That was the fact that he saw, promising a world of fire? How would his people survive, how would they farm, produce industry. Jaster wanted the unknown region for personal gain, but also to find the people he cared about a home where they could be safe from war and tyranny. This better pay of as Jaster began to doubt his War Leader. Her taking command of the fleet was a spit in Jasters face as he was not given his permission nor even asked of his opinion. She just took charge and now his men would question his ability to lead, not just a fleet, but a people. This would not go unremembered when the day came.

Jaster continued to look at the Mistress sister, [member="Lysandra"], a seemingly kind spirit, and Jaster did not like it. She was a child on a possible mission of combat, and she sat and stood ther as if only to admire her sister. She bothered him with questions, yet they were not directed to him as if he was not there. They were buzzed around him, an object of no interest. Word that would be greatly answered were never even considered for the Mandalorian to answer. This was more upsetting then having his fleet ripped from him, his soldiers and men taken without questioning. He was a company man, not a soldier anymore this was true, but of the battle mates of the true religion, he was the only worrier to arrive. Only sword and shield to rise to the calling, yet both his leaders were nothing but high and mighty looking down on his efforts. He did not try to impress them, he offered aid to a group that could help him. Yet they bosted and spoke words Jaster could not follow or make sence of.

He was becoming furious as the thoughts roamed his head, stacking on one another. He would need to let go, and hope the droid, [member="Ultimatum"] would be capable of combats if the need arose.

He turned to his terminals and began to read the updates he received from the other captains and crew leaders. All seemed well as they entered hyperspace and no ships were left behind.

 

[Almira Izlay'ti]

As the vessels lunged into hyperspace she stood still upon the bridge. Red hues watching as the stars pulled and quickly rushed by in a blinding flurry of a rushing river. Closing her eyes she slowly fell to her knees, placing her hands upon her thighs as she remained still and silent. Her mind slowly went blank as it opened to the ever moving galaxy, her mind pulling through memories and thoughts. Feint whispers could be heard as she remained still, her mind slowly going black until there it was. ​

​

A flash of red, a bright burst of orange, then the smell of smoke and ash. The world was fire, slowly boiling, molten and it brought a smirk to her lips. It was a world that she had been shown, one that was to be the home of many thousands whom would seek their own path. It was a world from which they could strike out upon the Unknown regions and the Outer Rim Territories. ​

​

Slowly she stood from her meditative stance, remaining still as she brought her hands out to the sides. Without a single word the vessel began to slow. A message moving through the vessels that had followed as she stood upon the bridge. Silver hair slowly rising up as it floated upon the air of the bridge, slowly dancing as if a river flowed around her. ​

​

With a quiet motion, the vessel dropped from hyperspace and there it was. In that moment as the fleet dropped just as rapidly as it had pulled into hyperspace, her eyes shot open. Red hues upon the red-orange fiery rock that had been long since forgotten. A world of fire and ash. ​

​

[member="Lysandra"]​

[member="Ultimatum"]​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]​

​

​