Playing with Fire [vs. First Order]

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

Tyger Tyger’s pupils constricted at the mention of the late Empire.

The Captain picked up, but Milo promptly ended the call. He stood full height, locking his eyes on her red pools and holding them there. It was almost as though he had forgotten how to blink.

“Bad blood, You and the Empire? Or was it in the service of the Public Good?”

The Captain was calling back, but it appeared as though he was ignoring it.

"Where are you from?," he asked, stating each word slowly as though they were punctuated at the syllables.

[member="Lvia"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin.
On Transportation Shuttle to Planet.

After A'sharad finished putting on the protective suit, he climbed onto the shuttle with a dozen or so other Zuguruks with an equal number of mining droids. He had climbed aboard one of the first ships with his own men, and soon to be employees. It was, different, from working with men of the First Order.

Where men of the First Order would be emotionless, silent, awaiting deployment on a planet after lift off, the Sith Purebloods were rowdy, yet still held that aura of discipline. They were not as large as the warriors of their species, but their average height was still larger than that of most humans. They did not make it their profession to fight, but they were fighters nevertheless. Had he the opportunity to lead the species, he would, he would lead them across the Galaxy, back to Korriban and to strip it from the hands of their enemies who held it.

Unfortunately, they were too far.

One day, friends.

Hours ago, while A'sharad had been meeting with the mining and Imperial Officials, his own people had already begun mining. Now, it was up to him to join them, to give visuals to the idea that was already in mind.

 

[Lvia]

[member="Tyger Tyger"]

If his manner managed to alarm Lvia, it did not. At least, it didn't seem to. Granted, had he been a doctor or a medic, that may have been different.

"It is no longer relevant," she stated quietly, studying the man with that seemingly flat expression. She kept her hands lightly clasped at the small of her back. Feet about six inches apart. She certainly held herself rather well in regards to the bearing, but certainly a little more experience in her eyes. Or perhaps, that was just the apathy one grew into after having been considered no more than a number and a DNA sequence.

"Nor do I know." Lvia answered honestly. She truly did not know where she came from. The Research Division was all she had known before she had been picked up in the aftermath of the explosion that had set her free.

"For now, I am from Arceneau Trade," she answered, "And I am here to assist the First Order with transactions with the Conglomerate."

 

[Tyger Tyger]

“It is no longer relevant”

He did not care for that one bit. Her story, after all, sounded an awful lot like every Jedi Revenge narrative and path to radicalization he had ever heard. Not to mention, Tyger Tyger had done time with the Tion Hegemony. He knew of ATC, and many of its shady bedfellows. Danger worked with the First Order today, but what happens tomorrow?

What happens when Danger and her cross-factional Best Friends Guild decide they are no longer interested in a galaxy with the First Order in it, and this new Empire is stuck with this scarred-up, blue robot with a bone to pick against anti-alien fascist regimes and a whole lot of unfettered access to a precious, unstable natural resource?

“And here you are. Another Empire. Full Circle. What the hell would make you want to take a job like that?”

Tyger Tyger turned to face her, applying his minor height advantage to the situation, even taking a step forward to exaggerate it. Through emotional contagion, through the cadence and pointedness in his asking, through hostile pheromones, and aggressive body language, and his will-to-violence barely contained under his killer’s stoicism, it was clear that this wasn’t casual interest, but had become something of an interrogation. His presence had poisoned the atmosphere for empaths as his emotions made him a monster.

Tyger Tyger’s staring persisted, letting her stew in the context.

[member="Lvia"]

 

[Lvia]

[member="Tyger Tyger"]

Now at that, Tyger would see results.

As the man radiated his growing displeasure, it poisoned the well of Lvia's stoic regard with quickening results.

It began as a dull throb between her eyes. The emotional backwash manifesting itself in a manner that her Zeltron half could not quite handle yet. Untrained, she reacted in the only way she could, by meeting his aggression with the calm emotive attempt to soothe over his hostility.

Not the best thing to do in the situation, but Lvia had no control over her own physiology.

The more he radiated his displeasure, the more uncomfortable she became. Her head couldn't help but tilt back, taking in the breadth of his taller form as he seemed to dwarf her. Body reacted, pores opened, and a thin film of sweat released her pheromones, the Zeltron part of her physiology reacting to fight or flight.

"I-I work for Arceneau Trade company." she finally managed to squeeze out. There was a flash of discomfort in those crimson orbs.

Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to say, but it was honest at least.

"Not another Empire."

The young teenager shifted within the growing tension, another dull ache shooting through her mind.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin.
Travelling to the Mine.

Every single one of the dropships that were transporting Zuguruks and mining droids had a single First Order miner on them to explain the situation on the planet below, the caves, mines, structures already down there, safety procedures, and to make sure they knew when they were getting close to the mines. That last part? It was happening right now.

Rising up with his kinsmen, he rotated from his position by the ramp to the side, allowing the mining droids to march out first with their Zuguruk handlers who were led down the path to the cavern. Walking behind his men, they were soon entering the cave system, dozens of them at a time, following behind the droids as First Order Officials led them into the well lit cavern. Stopping outside, A'sharad paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued on inside, already hearing the sounds of mining after he barely got ten metres past the entrance.

Well... This is something else.

That was putting it simply...

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

"That would be splendid, thank you, dear," Valessia replied in a cordial manner, "water would be fine." She looked around the facility and let her thoughts drift for a moment as she took a seat while waiting to see the representatives. The Scion crossed the lobby toward the transparisteel that overlooked the mining below. She turned to take the glass of water from the secretary, "thank you." She says again and keeps a mind on what she's seeing. Noting that she'd have to look over the amount of tribute that Browncoat is giving to the Order and keep an eye on the books. Not that she didn't trust the company or their owners, but this was a large galaxy and one could never be too careful especially with such a valuable raw material as Cortosis.

She recalled the bases on Varonat and then the listening posts that were being installed there, Valessia wished she had paid better attention. Making a note to bring it up in a meeting with Moff Fortan when she next saw the woman. Then her mind drifted to the contracts, Moff Fortan had been gracious enough to approve of the First Order's investment in San Guinem on the condition that she produce solely for them, of course. Her eyes were glazed over with focus, thinking, working and calculating everything she could in that moment. For both herself and the Imperial First Order.

Taking a sip of the glass of water, Valessia turned and crossed the lobby to look out the other side. Droids were hard at work mining the fragile yet hazardous materials. Imperial mining here was done very much by droids as well, as the First Order had better uses for its slave labor. Her jaw was clenched tight as she appeared to be viewing a few automated carts go in and out of a mine shaft and with them loads of cortosis. Although, one only needed such a small part of it to make anything worthwhile. A Cheshire cat grin on her face as she straightened out her posture, drinking from the glass once again, as she waited to speak with ATC's Representative.

Yarith Sector, En Route to Bespin
First Imperial Vessel Tarkin; Coercer-class

Admiral Fiolette Yvarro marched onto the bridge of the Tarkin, "tell me you've actually done your job, and that Bespin is on alert?" She asked Ensign Galeway. The young blonde simply nodded and Admiral Yvarro didn't even blink as she replied coldly, "you get to live for another hour, try not to disappoint me." The older woman had cultivated the reputation of being one of the meanest and rudest in service to the Supreme Leader. She'd always been this way even as a younger woman who had just entered the service. Yvarro learned at a young age that fear went a long way, as did a number of other adjectives that could be used to persuade or entice a subordinate so that they performed well above average. "Lieutenant Walzer, report on the line?"

"Frigates deployed, cruisers are coming into formation now. Deployment carriers have submitted their CAG listings for your approval," Walzer replied, he put them up on his monitor for the Admiral to see. He waited nervously hoping he had done what he was told to her liking, Yvarro had a specific way she wanted them done and with great efficiency. Walzer had once seen her toss someone out for trying to tell her that his infraction wasn't as grave. She told him if he'd rather spend his life in the mud with slaves then he'd do well to join them, and thus tossed him into the garbage shoot.

Rumors of course, rumors he told himself.

"What do these formations look like to you?" She asked him, "mhmm? Do they look like Imperial Lines?"

"I-" Walzer began to stammer, "uh, n-no?"

Yvarro took in a breath, "you are a Lieutenant, are you not?"

"Y-Yes, yes of course ma'am. I'll have-"

The Admiral looked him, and he knew then he should stop talking and just do. Once he turned back to face his monitor she began to step away and as she did, "I want the CAGs to mimic Alliance styles, I want them to confuse our... friend." Her voice was colder as if that was even possible. She had spent the last few weeks studying the Alliance's Rogue Squadron, submitting her own recommendation for a unique squadron of their own. That utilized older TIE Fighter techniques, something that much of the galaxy seems to have forgotten.

Yvarro had been informed as they made their way from Anoat that a pirate had been spotted in the Indellian System on the edge of Ivax Nebula on his way toward Bespin with at least, two star destroyers, en route to intercept. Bespin had since been alerted and even now prepared numerous flights for battle, running patrols around much of the First Imperial's interests. Admiral Yvarro led a task force that had until now been merely making a test run, and practicing formations and line deployments. Now, they had a real fight - a practice run as it were to see how well they coordinated in battle.

"Captain Kyoung, report," She asked of him, and the Seoularian turned nodding to her in acknowledgment.

"The Tarkin's weapons are ready at your command Admiral, I've coordinated with Commanders Takashiro and Joven they've agreed to take their Retibutions to the front," he answers, Kyoung has worked with Admiral Yvarro for years and is more than well aware of what she wants before she does, sometimes, anyway. "I recommend we move our frigates into flanking positions in case our friend decides to dive."

Her lips pursed forming a thin line, "one line, Captain, if we cannot contain him with one line - then we have failed our Supreme Leader."

"Of course, Admiral, Glory to the Order!" He remarked and turned on his heels marching down the long path toward the lift, as she stood looking out while the stars rushed by the Tarkin, while the task force she commanded worked to prepare themselves for battle against an unknown foe who had dared to enter the heart of the First Imperial Order.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xYdFd89v_QE&list=PLUAVzwxmy-OglMiexk831CXdXgC561RgB&index=3[/media]​

​

[member="Jorel Haas"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Lvia"] | [member="Artemis Margs"]​

Spoiler

2: Retribution-class; Star Destroyers (900m Each)
1: Coercer-class; Star Destroyer (1200m)
12: Consul-class; Frigates (350m Each)
2: Consolidator-class; Carriers (700m Each)
4: Relentless-class; Cruisers (900m Each)
-----------------------------------------
21: -------------------------- 12,200m; Total

Engaging with just the Tarkin, the rest is here for noise.

 

[Artemis Margs]

Location: Inside a Nebula at the edge of this system I refuse to spell.
Objective: Greet the Admiral.
Ship: Resurgent-class star destroyer Pride of Avalonia
Post: IV

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8-zHJ0V0oI&list=PLUAVzwxmy-OglMiexk831CXdXgC561RgB&index=2

"The Vindicator has apparently located our ship, they're locked in and pursuing." The communications officer said.

Margs grinned a little, "It'll only be a matter of time before the bastard is ours. Offer our fighters as support in case he tries anything."

"Yes sir." The TIE officer said, turning to his console.

"Now gentlemen, it's only a matter of time till we hear back from the Captain, I suggest we just stay here and coa-"

"Sir, we have ships pulling out of lightspeed!" The scanning lieutenant interrupted, he appeared to be rather alarmed

"How many precisely?" The lieutenant asked, eyeing the officer.

"More than a dozen sir," The officer replied, "They're using Alliance formation, but-"

"But what?" Artemis snapped, if this was an Alliance fleet, than the transmission to alert the First Orders Navy and Bespin Garrison needed to go out.

"Sir they're our ships, First Order make." The scanning officer replied, "All their ships are transmitting First Order codes. They're from Task Force 741, that's-"

Artemis interupted with a cold voice "Yvaro's fleet." The lieutenant bowed his head, he knew her reputation all too well. Many of the Vindicators senior officers had rather, well intimate dealings with her. "Did Rausgeber call for reinforcements? Could he have?"

"Possibly," The comms officer said, "Captain Rausgeber could theoretically send messages, it'd just depend on the nebula density, and how far the fleet was away. Judging by this, they can't have been too far."

The lieutenant turned away from the viewport, "I best make contact with the Admiral then, it is probably unwise to leave her waiting." The lieutenant added, walking to the rear of the bridge, and to the communications room. Once there, he stood in front of the motion capture, and stood to attention, turning to a technician there. "Open a line with the admiral, I should inform her of the situation."

@Lvia @Valessia Brentioch [member="Jorel Haas"]

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

From left field, Milo was suddenly very aware of the sound of work being done. Like it had shut off for a minute, but, of course it hadn't. He had just been caught up.

There was a tempering of his emotions, sanding smooth formerly sharp edges and bringing the boil of his blood to a low simmer. [member="Lvia"] had begun emitting pheromones in an unconscious, primal effort to save herself, and, like any mammal unprepared for it, he fell prey. Well, fell “less-predator.”

The newfound calm, while stifling rage, did not dislodge his singularity of intent; the Tyger Tyger force of will had been the heroic virtue that carried him through his myth, far more assuredly than any gun or sneer. What replaced his alpha-male displays of dominance was now something more like a cruel scientist, interested in carving Lvia open and extracting the truth just to see what it looked like, how it all fit together. His manner was like a cokehead, a psychopath – intensely driven, but apathetic to everything else.

But something in her face. Something familiar, that he knew he should care about. Lvia had given him the wrong answer, yes, but she appeared to have no idea why it was the wrong answer. An innocent quality, as though she were a child, lacking the frame of reference to give any understanding or perspective to the pain she endured. Somewhere in his guts, he felt sick. Somewhere in his heart, he was crushed under the weight of shame.

Tyger Tyger blinked, shaking his head as if to remove dust and the residual memories of a dream. Jarringly and without a word, he disengaged from Lvia, walking free from the platform. He had made note of her name, her face, and would report her to Natasi, and, of course, Watcher-Four, as a potential Insider Threat…but he would bully her no longer, at least today.

Returning to main drag, The Captain called back, and Milo finally thought it good to answer.

“Yeah, I’m Tyger Tyger – the security contractor tasked with looking into complaints of local piracy-- I want on your cargo freighter leaving in 10.”

And so it would go.

[member="Jorel Haas"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin.
In the Mine.

The distance to the entrance of the cave wasn't as short as he would've imagined, but that must've been due to the troop of personnel that were currently entering. His long strides were impeded due to the random steps of those around him, and as he crossed to step out of the way of those around him, he placed a hand on the wall, leaning with all of his weight on it, and a mechanism within the wall triggered. Old and unused for who knows how long, it took time before it slid backwards and slid into the surrounding walls, but A'sharad had enough time to cross his arms over his chest as he watched his 'employees' enter before he stumbled backwards and into some strange room.

Nearly cracking his head over the edge of a table, he clambered up to his feet, and straightened himself out as he shot a glance back to the entrance.

Beckoning a group in and one of the First Order Officials who had taken note, ignorant as ever, the First Order Colonel made his query.

"What is this place? And why is it hidden behind that wall?" Was it bitten on? He knew his tongue was slowly swelling up, he must've bit it pretty hard... Forget it.

"Uh, Sir, it is one of the refinement facilities. It's old, hasn't been in use since... I can't remember." A'sharad shrugged. If it was old, his people would make do. They were used to the more... Ancient equipment they used on Tantorus, which was completely fine with them. If this gear was old, it'd be easier for their simpler minds to manage, though he could imagine they would be modifying the equipment for easier use within the coming weeks. "It's said there's plenty of them cast about the mines, High Colonel, Sir."

"Good. My people will get them back into use. Direct as many as you can fit into these... Compartments," lack for a better word. "No need to take them away from their place of work when it can all be kept down here planetside, no?" The look he directed to the man through the helmet was almost daring him to question his words, but there was a crazed smile on his lips as well, as if questioning him would also be the man ending his own life.

"Thank you," he said, which was dismissal enough for the man who was already beckoning people over and redirecting them. "Also, find all of the other rooms too. This place will operate at full capacity, Foreman." Was he a foreman? It didn't matter, he wouldn't pay attention to the correction, and then he was out of the room and heading down the shaft.

It was good he stopped talking then, because his talk was swollen as feth.

 

[inactivechar01]

Location: Nebula ---> Exits of Hyperspace vector from Varonat where the pulsemass generators were dropped.
Ship: Standard Carrack-class light cruiser Argo

Within twenty seconds after the scanners officer reported the close by passing TIE fighters did the large blip pop out to stay for longer. The large pursuer had found them thanks to their squadrons of fighters, yet as the Argo made its sophisticated maneuvers as ordered by Haas, the captain knew that the nebula still protected them from precision guided armament and tractor beams. Unfortunately, that did not concern turbolasers and laser cannons.

"We've finished our maneuvers, Captain, we are keeping our vector as-"

"Coordinates of the pulsemass generators, pop them in and jump. Full speed ahead, let's exit with roaring engines!" Jorel interrupted Levrin and the whole crew immediately reacted to the orders with full urgency.

The experienced navigator did not waste time in putting in the coordinates and punching the ship into hyperspace. The stars dragged into lines and into the void the pirates went.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.​

​

Reverting back to realspace, everyone could hear the gasp of the scanners officer. The data was already projecting itself from the miniature tactical computer implanted within Jorel's favorite spot - the rail of the viewport. The body languages of everybody changed and the captain knew that was not good. Panic was the least desirable thing at this situation.

"Is that the best they got ?" Jorel chuckled. He knew the odds were against him but if he would need put his men back into order then they were doomed. "We've had worse, hadn't we Levrin ?"

"Yes, Sir! Just watch and learn from the best, ladies and gentlemen." Levrin responded, his past worrying was gone. He had realized the purpose of what Jorel had just said and acted properly. Deep inside, Jorel was sure, that the man was equally worried.

The pirate captain looked at his watch that showed zero.

It's here.

The texture of time and space shifted close to them and their precious loot carrier finally arrived. Immediately would the captain of the cargo ship be notified that hyperspace was impossible at this moment of time.

"All tractor beams on that cargo, NOW! Move him in to our side as a shield against those heavy hitters." Jorel's voice boomed through the bridge and the men listened. "Batter the ship, all ion cannons on that cargo ship. That's our loot."

"And our hostage." Levrin added with a smile.

"And our trump card." Jorel smirked. He was certainly worried but this...this could save them.

The tractor beams all focused upon the ship that just entered real space while the ion cannons locked on their target to begin a battering of bright blue upon its surface. Speed was continually lowering as the Argo made its way towards the cargo ship. Mercilessly, the small Carrack-class light cruiser would reveal why it was such a dangerous ship packed small.

"Move some energy from the engines to the shields." Jorel ordered and then nodded at the communications officer to open a channel that his adversaries could hear.

"This is Captain Jorel Haas of the Argo! Leave the cargo to us and we shall spare your good men's lives."


[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Tyger Tyger"] [member="Artemis Margs"] [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

​

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Varonat Sector​

Cortosis Cargo Ship​

Milo was in that tunnel again. Turned around, he had no idea if he was crawling forward…or backward. Each sensation just like the last. Unenriched by imagination, this dream could bring only despair.

And then, out of nowhere, a disturbance. Change. But it was too dark to discern what it was.

Tyger Tyger’s eyes fluttered open, brought back to the land of living by the sudden lurch of breaks, of shifting states brought by stifled hyperdrives. He had been standing, leaning against the wall of the cargo bay, apparently having dozed in these all-too-fleeting moments of inactivity. Yawning, he cleared himself more fully from the dreamtime.

“Well, way to go, Arceneau Trade,” he mused cynically, but he wasn’t that surprised Danger and her machine had been right. The mercenary was aware of the resources at her disposal.

A detectable panic filled the little ship as its skeletal crew wandered the decks for answers to their plight. Tyger Tyger simply drew his bowcaster and held it at the low ready, even as the lights died.

Where, once more, he would wait in the dark.

Cloud City, Bespin​

The Far Star​

Leia looked up, watching as the holographic man who often invade their living room appeared without apparent cause. Tyger Tyger was gone, after all. With what purpose could
Watcher-Four have for the ship?

Watcher-Four held up his translucent finger and pressed it to smirking lips.

There was the sensation of floating, the grinding sounds of raising landing gear. Slowly, confidently, the Far Star left its docking bay on Bespin and flew off out of the atmosphere.

[member="Jorel Haas"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Artemis Margs"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"]​

 

[Lvia]

[member="Valessia Brentioch"] [member="Tyger Tyger"]

Tyger left her there, but Lvia did not move for a couple of minutes. Her fingers trembled and it seemed as if her color had paled into a lighter hue. It hurt. Emotions hurt. They dug their claws into her mind like ice, driving in deep to draw blood and pain that could bring anyone to their knees.

It was hard to breathe, and Lvia had to remind herself how to.

It was a good thing that elsewhere, the First Order Trade Representative Valessia Brentioch would find another Arceneau Trade representative approach her.

"Good afternoon, my lady." the young brunette by the name of Niei addressed her. She gave a small bow and a wide smile.

"Please, this way. " she'd gesture, intending to take her to a conference room.

 

[Tyger Tyger]

The story concluded as many forgotten stories do – At the whims of those who would still remember.

Tyger Tyger would emerge from the stolen the frigate, dispatching pirate crewman like it was his job because, really, that’s exactly what it was. The cockpit that once housed Jorel Haas would be found empty – Perhaps an adept escape artist. Perhaps a ghost. Maybe a hallucination brought on by bored shippers traversing an all-too-safe hyperlane.

Life during peacetime.

The damage was done, and the evidence of piracy quite convincing, for it was the Truth…up until a point.

The Far Star would dock alongside Haas’ abandoned ship where Tyger Tyger would load the stolen cortosis cargo aboard, then report a much smaller weight recovered to his keepers.

The price of good help.

And they lived happily ever after.

The End​

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

Bespin, Dispatching Kyoung.
First Imperial Vessel Tarkin; Coercer-class

"You have your orders, why are you still standing here?" Admiral Yvarro questioned, as Captain Kyoung saluted and made his way toward the Audacity. FIV Audacity was a smaller, faster and more maneuverable Star Destroyer. He would be sent ahead along with a line of smaller vessels toward Indellian the last known sighting of the intruder. Yvarro would establish a line here at Bespin, "Lieutenant Walzer, have you made contact with Varonat yet?"

"Yes, FIS Kuragin doesn't have full capabilities to strike but we're deploying a line of fighters from the Starfighter Outpost there," Walzer reports and brings the information up on the monitor, "gunboats and superiority fighters are to be deployed, do you wish them to take on Alliance formations as well?"

Yvarro narrowed her gaze as she approached the monitor, "no, leave that to the CAGs."

"Of course, I'll dispatch your message right away, and Admiral we have Lieutenant Margs on the line for you, he says it's urgent." Walzer adds before leaving, the Admiral sighs and waves for Ensign Galeway to put Margs through to her on the main holo. "Lieutenant Margs, I presume?" She asks with her hands behind her back, her uniform crisp and clean.

---

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

"Thank you, Niei," Valessia remarks with gratitude setting her glass of water down, she crosses the lobby and into a hall. Where she's taken to a conference room. As she's lead down the hall the brunette makes a note to take a full stock of all the mining facilities here and to go directly to the state-controlled mines and see about gaining a share or two for her San Guinem Textum.

Once in the conference room, she takes a deep breath and waits for the ATC Representative.

[member="Lvia"] | [member="Artemis Margs"]

 

[Artemis Margs]

Location: Inside a Nebula at the edge of this system I refuse to spell.
Objective: Greet the Admiral.
Ship: Resurgent-class star destroyer Pride of Avalonia
Post: V


"Admiral Yvarro, it's an unexpected pleasure to have your arrival. My name is Lieutenant Artemis Margs of the Pride of Avalonia. Our sister ship, the Vindicator has been tracking a rogue freighter in the nebula, and we request your assistance in detaining it." The lieutenant added, "Now, we last detected it at secto-"

The lieutenant was interupted by a comms officer, "Lieutenant, the Vindicator has tracked the vessel. They've tracked it from a comms signal." The officer reported.

"Comms signal?" He asked, before turning to the admiral, "My apologies, I'd like to get this sorted. Play the signal."

"This is Captain Jorel Haas of the Argo! Leave the cargo to us and we shall spare your good men's lives." the signal played over speakers.

"What sector are they in?" Margs asked.

"Sector 4-576-9." The communications officer reported.

"Well admiral, if you'd like to go pirate hunting, now's as good a time than ever."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Vindicator loomed threateningly behind the Argo and its prey. Carlyle studied the ship closely. "Bastard," he said, "Disable the engines, he may kill the crew, but he won't escape."

"Yes sir!" The Chief Gunnery Officer called from the crew pit.

"Prepare to focus fire on their engines, we're going to make sure they can't escape. Then I want tractor beams on them, we'll hit them with the one-two. Be ready on my mark. Alert Margs of our position. I want a comms line open to them." Carlyle reported, springing into action. He wasn't going to let some no good pirate get away with this in First Order territory.

"Sir, we're live now on an open frequency." The officer said.

"Well, hello there," Captain Rausgeber reported cordially, "I am Captain Carlyle Rausgeber of the First Order Navy, and you are currently two things Captain Haas. A pirate, and a wanted man. Now Mister Haas, you have brought this upon yourself. I am formally charging you with piracy, and tresspass in First Order space. Gunnery officer, fire."

The turbolasers of the Vindactor lit up, and delivered a destructive salvo to the Argo. There was now way the smaller ships shields could withstand the blast of the star destroyers defences. With the shields down, the Vindactor unleashed another smaller barrage, on the engines, damaging them so badly, that no field repair would be able to fix them.

As the tractor beam began to pull them in, Carlyle had some final words for Captain Haas. "You were good Haas, maybe even the best, but you got cocky, and that cockiness has cost you. I hope you'll be a little bit more, civilized at our meeting."

[member="Bolvar Mayne"] [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

 

[Lvia]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility
[member="Valessia Brentioch"]


Once Lvia managed to gather her bearings, she went inside. A small comm from Niei disclosed to the chiss that the real First Order representative was here and was waiting in the conference room for her.

Swallowing, the Chiss hybrid squared her shoulders. I could do this, she thought to herself.

Coming into the room, the young Chiss went to greet Vanessa.

"Forgive me for my tardiness, Lady Brentioch." she began, apologizing.

"Would you like to go over the manifest and production this quarter? " she added. ATC and First Order had an understanding, and in this came in the tribute of precious metals and ores that they mined within their territory.

"Production has increased, and it has brought with it more tangible rewards for the First Order."

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

Valessia greeted the Chiss woman with a smile, she had often employed Chiss at many of her events and found them to be good workers. "No worries, dear," she understood that managing a facility of this magnitude took time. "Yes of course," she replied and came to the table setting her data tablets down, "that's lovely and I'm sure it will be music to the Grand Moff's ears." Taking her seat she managed a holoprojector - built into the table for such purposes, "now recently the First Order has taken on my San Guinem Textum, as I have provided for them the template for creating cortosis woven fabric."

Roughly four and a half years ago, perhaps five in total - Valessia had been on Gallos, where she managed to create her first set of sample fabrics that were eventually shown off to the First Order at her launch party. More than likely, Valessia would be purchasing fabric samples from ATC itself and studying those and comparing them with what she had created to ensure there was enough of a difference for her to patent her designs. "So any additional, or surplus cortosis, may be rerouted to San Guinem and here is the contract from the Grand Moff." Well, more like a default stamp but yes, the Grand Moff was aware of them. "Other than that we have no actual contractual changes, but I do want to go ahead and verify those numbers with you before making my final report."

[member="Lvia"]

 

[Lvia]

[member="Valessia Brentioch"]

Lvia gave a nod. In whatever manner that the Chiss would be able to help, Lvia was willing to lend aid.

"Of course," coming to the table, the Browncoat Arms and MaraTibx representative quickly depressed a button. In an instant, a holographic screen came up to reveal the amounts of cortosis that had been mined as well as the quantities and purities of each bar.

"As you know, we can process the cortosis based on your desires." she began. "Cortosis at it's purest state is very brittle and dangerous if inhaled."

A few more holopictures were brought up.

"We have refined the product based on the specifications requested," she revealed.

"But we are also willing to adjust the amounts if you require a different quality of purity?"

 

[knight_of_fire98]

Deep inside the Vindicator an off duty CT-47B would be exercising in the state of the art gym facilities. He had been on the treadmill for two hours so far, and was steadily approaching his third as another man entered, carrying nerf meat sandwhiches and a bottle of Super SnokerTM for each.

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"Thanks. What's the word in the canteen?" Asks CT-47B as he glances to EB-263 and turns the treadmill's speed down to the pace of a light jog before taking the soft white towel from its bars and wiping dry his face and hands.
"Rumour is we're dragging in a pirate, but I don't see why we wouldn't just save the effort and blast him."
CT-47B would turn the treadmill off, stepping down from it as it slows to a halt behind him, before draining his Super SnokerTM, opening his meal packet & taking a bite from his nerf ham sandwhich. "They need a squad?"
"Probably, you not tired? You've going for near on three hours. Let someone else handle it." CT-47B would pause, thinking for a moment before quickly finishing his meal in silence. "They'd only do it wrong. Thanks for the food." After a short break, CT-47B would don his armour. Collect his weapons from the quatermaster and head to whichever hangar the pirate vessel is being drawn to.
[member="Bolvar Mayne"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]