Private ACT XIV, A Mysterious Passenger

[Lunafreya Solidor]

L O C A T I O N | Aboard the Arrogante.
T A G S | Errix Feh'room.
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.​

“Sir!”, the operator’s voice waked him up, his voice was piercing through his translucent helmet in an odd way. The kid probably forgot to run his gear through maintenance, ignoring that, Gideon opened his eyes, safely hidden by his white cap as he sat on the command chair while roaming the stars, in his opinion, there was no better place to take a nap when everything was so quiet in his time performing the duty. Once he was a proud member of the imperial navy in the service of the Imperial Remnants, the ruthless First Order until its fall, before haughtily abandoning the service for joining the rising glory of the New Imperial Order, for a while he felt accomplished of his deeds, honoring the majestic name of the Pellaeon family.

That was done the moment he met Lunafreya Solidor. Before being personally assigned to her service by the Lord-Executor Vaulkhar ‘the Bastard’ Zambrano, son of former Sith Emperor Carnifex. He had heard stories about her, tales of cruelty, rumors of her beauty, bloodlust, gluttony, and absolute arrogance, they said she wasn’t a Sith, nor was she a Jedi, some sort of sorcerer of dreadful power, an elder witch of horrendous aura, they called her the Bloody Duchess of JanFathal, although nowadays she had a different monicker but still enjoyed being called as the Bloody Duchess. The moment he laid his eyes upon her Gideon was struck dead by her astounding grace, there was elegance in the way she moved, she exhaled beauty… it felt as if it was love. But it wasn’t, she was brilliant and ruthless, a cunning strategist that listened to his every suggestion on what was to be done in the depths of space.

She made him feel as if he were the most important man in the room and kept doing that quite often. However, his crossroad was faced in Bastion when Operation Kyber Dark was ordered by Irveric Tavlar, ordering the death of all the former Sith-aligned troops through the stars, those recently captured, those they faced in the field, and those that already found service within their ranks. It was a bloodbath where many of his friends, allies, and acquaintances were betrayed plus systematically mercilessly killed, and despite being made a Warlord, Lunafreya would have survived this event as her name failed to be mentioned in the target’s list. Yet, she refused on following Tavlar’s commands, the very thought of betraying those under her service seemed to be... unbearable. Pellaeon found that to be the most honorable thing a commander could do, never abandon those under her command, no matter the circumstances. No matter the circumstances.

“What is it?”, his voice was dragged by a lazy tone of voice. The operator dared not flinch or show any bother on that fact, simply replying to him.
“Our ship caught a strange signal near section 39B.”, Pellaeon turned his head to face the holographic map on the screen as an orange beeping shade started to appear.
“A single vessel?”, he asked out loud, noticing that the operator was still waiting for his orders on how to deal with this matter. Was that a Sith ship? No. The Sith had all fled to Dromund Kaas, he knew that all too well as Lunafreya was on her enterprise on conquering the rogue systems next to her crowning jewel of Carnadine. Perhaps an Eternalist vessel? No. Nearly all of their fleet was now on their system, Rufus did that after the Korriban Invasion. This was most likely a Jedi Ship, those Silver Concord bastards were always ready for a good squabble. “Maintain our cloaking active. Move us closer to the vessel, deploy the Valkiria Squadron to drag it within our tractor beam’s range, I want that ship captured within the hour!”

 

[Errix Feh'room]

LOCATION: Aboard the Imperial II-class Frigate - Perilous
TAGS: Lunafreya Solidor


The frigate came to a stuttering halt as it dropped from hyperspace travel. The temporary commander stood silent as he observed the surroundings they found themselves in. There had been mention of a number of systems being damaged or entirely knocked out upon his return to the vessel following the invasion of Silver space. But it seemed that strange lightning strike by the yurbian vessel had done a good deal of damage to the hyperdrive systems.

His eyes wandered over to the appropriate officer, who seemed just as lost as the rest of them.

"We were in transit for-oh. We've...sir. We've deviated from the plotted course it seems." The man seemed to sink into their chair, unsure of how the commander would react. The space filled with a heavy sigh as Errix lifted his gaze from the man and back out to the stars before them.

"How bad?" He finally asked, seeing nothing tremendously familiar in the stars out of the viewport.

"I-we aren't even in the right planetary system." Wide eyes snapped over to the officer. Concern before anger as Errix pondered briefly the appropriate move to make.

"We can't risk another jump without making sure the systems are at the least able to properly plot a jump course. How about our sensors?"

"Fried mostly sir. Internal scans are working." One reported. "We have limited scans to forward of the ship." Came another report. "And communications are down also." A number of reports came in from all around him, Errix's hand moving to his forehead at the damage inflicted. From one attack no less. It was distressing not knowing exactly where, or how far they had to travel. But jumping with the system so unstable as it was seemed fool hearty.

"Kriff. Move engineering teams accordingly. Anything that doesn't require intricate repair can take from the gunners aboard and overseen by the engineers in that department. I'll assist here with communications and sensors as best I am able." He spoke, giving a defeated sound upon taking the cape off his shoulders and rolling up the sleeves of his attire.

"Sir, we can-"

"I worked in engineering for a while, I can help. Let's get to it." He offered, shrugging. The attempts to get Errix to end his career in the Kainate had been numerous, ranging from quiet attacks on his character to forcing him into unsavory work aboard different frigates from the galley to engineering and everything between.

With a healthy repertoire of knowledge about the systems aboard a vessel, he was more an asset than most thought he could be.

"Let's start with communications. You two pair up and work on sensors. Keep the Perilous at low cruise speed. Keep batteries at the ready but skeleton crews only." He directed before working with the officer to diagnose the situation before them.

The ship moved at a deathly slow pace, no active or passive scans coming from it. The starfighter hold seemed dark at its midsection, the blast door closed with the failing systems just forward of that section. Pilots, gunners, and even security were assisting engineers as best they were able to get the ship even partly operational once more.

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

L O C A T I O N | Aboard the Arrogante.
T A G S | Errix Feh'room
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.​

“Sir!”, the operator called out again. The years had taught Pellaeon to despise hearing him being called that way, there was never any good news to be happy about it when one of those operators reached out to him. Still, he wasn’t rude enough as to tell them what he really thought on any matter, Gideon hurled his body with such majesty that it would shy the elzerish princes of her Grace’s kind, slowly he walked closer to see what it was being displayed at the small screen at the side of the standing operator, his mind nigh-completely emerged on the system. “The vessel has reduced speed tremendously. Most parts of its signals have vanished, its position has fainted from our clutch.”

“Have they jumped?”, Pellaeon dared to ask, already knowing the answer.
“Negative, sir.”, behind his back another operator started muttering to him another report.
“Our scanners show the ship is tarnished. We cannot see which of its system are still operational just yet... with a little more time perhaps...”, Gideon raised his hand in the air, halting his speech, but immediately bringing it back on his back, entwining both of them in a locked shaken pair. He realized the operator couldn’t see him and were it not for his voice Pellaeon would make a fool out of himself.
“That is not going to be necessary anymore.”, he passed them all by, his paces echoed on the quiet chamber as he went closer to the large glassteel panoramic window at the end of the bridge. His thick eyebrows roamed through his face to form a frown, pondering on the matter with enough care before taking any rash decisions.

The information available was scarce, yet Gideon could almost understand what went down. The ship was still being assessed to conclude on the simple fact of what was really happening, it was damaged. Enough to force them to wait comfortably among the stars without having anywhere to go, there were a thousand different explanations for the reason to that, but a few things were certain; they were not with the Confederacy, their ship would be different, nor were they with the Silver Concord or the Sith Empire. Which meant they could only be imperials, as each sector had their own unique singularities in vessels, or they could be those Alliance bastards, however, Pellaeon doubted that. A ship this close to them, this was no mere casual thing that happened every day, this an act of fate.

Without looking at the people behind him, Pellaeon raised his chin upwards as he kept his gaze on the direction they would be in. His voice came all too natural as if the act itself mattered very little to him, it was often believed by him that leaders gave the example on those under his command, perhaps this ruthlessness was also something he had learned to develop with his new ‘master’.
“Engage.”, obediently one of the operators passed through the internal chain on the dispatch orders for the starfighter squadron on stand-by. Orders were clear, to storm their hull with ionized weaponry only as they got close enough to lock them on their tractor beam.

Out there in the depths of the perpetual coldness among the stars, lurked the swift shapes of thirteen wasps galloping through the darkness. An unusual contour for a squadron, as the number twelve was seen with poor eyes by the Star Children's kind, led by one of her Grace's beasts, Darkonda sat snugly inside his vessel, directing his organic peers to circumvent the large vessel through all its directions. The making of havoc and confusion was their guideline, forbidden only from discharging any sort of lethal offensive weaponry against them, the Admiral's orders were most clear on that, ion torpedos were to be preferable by them. Darkonda knew the answer to that, he wanted prisoners to show off to the one holding his leash. To harshly nod his head dismissing them to the claws of Lunafreya's torturous monsters in the hopes of leeching something useful from them.

 

[Errix Feh'room]

LOCATION: Aboard the Imperial II-class Frigate - Perilous
TAGS: Lunafreya Solidor

"If we patch into the system manually, we can bypass the resistor at least. Might give us one or two transmissions at best before it burns out." Errix informed the communication officer, seeing the man frown as he listened. There was a huff from the smaller man as he pulled himself from under the console.

"It's that or be entirely unable to communicate until we reach dock." There was a defeated sound from the officer as Errix stood and surveyed around him. People moved with purpose, all speaking to each other and huddling over systems and wiring to work around the internal damage that had been caused by their previous fight.

It wasn't ideal. He would have rather put into port for the work, but limping through unknown space to possible enemy ports or patrols gave them little option otherwise. He huffed as he moved to another console, letting the officer guide him through another tangle of wires to attempt to get another system operable.

In the turbolaser battery, one of the gunners sat silently. He and select others had been ordered to remain on station and at alert for possible threats. The cooperative targeting system had been disengaged, leaving the gunners at a horrendous disadvantage if any incursions were to happen.

He leaned back, surveying the silent area he was stuck in for the time being as he picked at the manual communication line they had been given. It was hanging on his vest, the helmets internal systems tied to the ship which had been temporarily disrupted.

"Hotel Alpha, this is Hotel Bravo. You see anything out there? Over." The gunner sighed across the line, already bored with sitting and waiting.

"Hotel Bravo, this is Hotel Alpha. I see no bogeys at this time. Over." The response came over the line. His hand slipped off the communicator briefly, slipping the pointed helmet into the reticle slot and slewing the single turret side to side slowly.

"Roger Hotel Alpha. Keep us informed. Hotel Bravo, over and out." The gunner replied, leaning back in the seat as he kept a small slot of vision in his sight. Even leaned back, the micro binoculars of his helmet allowed him a sliver of vision even sitting back in the engagement seat. Not enough to see what was coming granted, but he believed it was.

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

L O C A T I O N | The Arrogante's Bridge.
T A G S | Errix Feh'room
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.​

“Sir?”, the operator called out. His voice was a bit more fragile than expected as if he was more concerned than worried about something, still, Pellaeon barely cared about looking in his direction, if inquired he would dare say that he could not even dare turn his head away from the window, his gaze was locked on that sight. Every single instinct of his body screamed how something was not right in here. “We are receiving strange signals from the unidentified vessel.”, hesitation took over his posture, there was weakness in his voice. “Well… I think it would be more appropriately fitting to say that we are facing difficulties in reaching the same frequency of the ship with the Yggdrasil.” Hearing him speak brought him the curious notion that the Duchess would not have accepted that weakness that appears in his speech, she would have probably have killed right there or ordered the guards to do something painful to teach him something about conduct. It was too human of him.

“Wait...”, it was when he realized. Or it could be said that this was the moment at the Casino where all the chips fell to the dealer’s hand by a rookie’s mistake. “Order the squadron to circle the ship and ready the guns. Fire on my command only.”, the operator nodded with his gleaming black head covered by that crystalline reflective dark surface of his helmet, quickly rushing to do his bidding as requested. With one of the sharpest ears on the galaxy, his left one heard the elzerish runic version of binary spoken by the squadron’s leader, Darkonda into one of the pilots’ speakers, automatically translated by the system.
“No response from these morons… I’m gonna blast them back to Hell!”, his first offizier turned in his direction, eagerly hoping for an answer already howled by the old man by the window, Pellaeon cruelly imagined the face of whichever creature lurked beneath his mask, twisting impatient, but he took his time to ruminate all of that giant bowl of mess in front of him into a proper thought as the plot thickened before his very eyes.

“They are blind to us...”, he turned to face his second-in-command, almost howling as Darkonda’s curses were muted from the speakers. “I believe they are flying on Emergency Mode only, low-powered engines, blind systems... Darkonda! Open fire directly with your laser cannons, a full volley of your squadron over the ship’s hulls. Aim it on less crucial areas, no damaging the bridge if you will.”, after a long moment of silence, Pellaeon turned to face his aide. In response, he shrugged his shoulders, confused about what was the holdout. He poked the person responsible with his finger right on the shoulder, as he just realized the droid was still muted at his speaker, turning his voice back on, a loud howl came from his shrill voice.
"I said: Finally going to do some damageeeee!", Pellaeon shook his arm in the air, gesturing for the man to mute it again. When silence fell back in order, Gideon walked towards the command chair, finally daring to step upwards its way to sit.

 

[Errix Feh'room]

LOCATION: Aboard the Imperial II-class Frigate - Perilous
TAGS: Lunafreya Solidor

A spark from beneath the second half of the communications console had the whole board lighting up as the officer gave a small whoop of satisfaction. Errix sagged beneath the thing, happy that his little jolt connecting wires had bore fruit.

"I don't want to, but send a general distress signal. I'll watch the wires down here. Get me an extinguisher ju-." He was cut off a the comm officer gave a startled sound. "What now?"

Errix snapped as the vessel rocked with incoming fire. There was none to careful a slide from beneath the console as the officer danced out of the way to avoid stepping on the commander.

"A signal, Sir. Don't know the origin. Can't pinpoint with the systems down. Send-"

"Send the damned distress signal!" Errix fumed, standing with little grace to his movements and scrambling towards the forward windows to see what was happening.

A thought was spared as his boots skidded to a halt and a hand thrown toward the defense coordinating officer.

"Tell the guns to hold fire! I don't need crossed messages!" There was a nod of confirmation as they began to speak through the internal systems. The comms officer worked to send the distress signal and current read outs along the tenuous line they had established.

A clear readout of most systems being disabled with lightning damage. Encrypted Sith Empire codes being sent along the line as a thin hope that those attacking were at least somewhat friendly enough to recognize the codes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

"Hotel Alpha you got eyes on whatever that was? Over!?" The incoming message was almost late as the gunner was already swinging the turret around to get eyes on.

"Negative Bravo! I see no bogeys, repeat no bogeys-Over! Hotel Charlie how-" The gunner was calling down the line as another voice cut in and shut them all down.

"All Hotel call-signs are to stand down. Unknown entity is possible friendly. Hold fire unless given the order. Hotel Control over and out." The defense coordinator hissed across the line, frantic and agitated with the order.

There was an audible stunned silence across the gunner comm lines. Each one unsure if they had heard that correctly. They slowed the turret rotation but continued to slew back and forth attempting to spot a target should the order come down.

Each turret beside the bridge moved slowly, none others moved to stave off the incoming fire though as the attacking vessels had free reign over the space near and around the vessel.