Profit Margins (Cato Neimoidia)

[Damian Starchaser]

Neimoidians were slimy toad spawned homunculus with no morals. Neimoidians were all cheap, Neimoidians were all lazy and fat slobs. It didn't matter that Neimoidia was part of the republic, the soldiers knew that Cato Neimoidia was on the chopping block. Before a battle nearly every army in history would try to dehumanize the enemy, even if he wasn't human. The Vong weren't a sentient species they were savages, the Corellians were all rebellious smuggler scum, it played out the same way every time. Yes many, perhaps even most were sensable to realize that these were people the same as any other, but every unit had one who took things too far. It was the first indication of where they were going.

Of course Cabbal knew, he was the grand pooh-bah, Commander and Chief of the Republic Military. The man walked across the deck and toward the briefing room. He was old, too old some might say, but his species was long lived. His once dark and thick hair had thinned and grew white. He was distinguished, but that was just polite speak for old. The man grimaced at a saluting junior officer he strolled by. He hated when people called him distinguished, called him old."

When he reached the door to the briefing room two NCO's saluted and opened it for him. He walked in and watched an entire room stand to. It was one of his small joys in live knowing that now he had no one to salute. Petty perhaps but it didn't matter. "Take your seats," he said. The holoprojector lit up. "This is Cato Neimoidia." There had been a big stir in the senate about it earlier that week. "As you know they sit on the Hydian way, and they are using their position to blockade, raid, and otherwise disrupt trade heading towards Corellia. They are acting like thugs and bullies." That wasn't strictly true, but it was the line the politicians were using to get what they wanted, and what they wanted was him to act. The Neimoidians were simply levying a tax on all ships moving through and about their system. It was perhaps illegal under Republic law, but they weren't part of the republic. "As we all know they are currently being ruled by a despot. Tal Komar is a dictator who owns most of that planet. He has been less than receptive to our diplomatic efforts. His chief rival, Tan Weedin, is set to take power on the planet." There was a murmur that rose from the assembled men. None of this was true, except from a certain narrow Republican point of view. "He's only waiting for us ladies and gentlemen."

The map switched over to a view of the planet. Several ancient Lucrehulk-class vessels sat on the systems periphery. "There is fourteen currently on station. With another four predicted to arrive within the hour. We can't be sure how exactly these vessels are equipped, but we know they have all been modified as warships." He indicated the vessels with a laser pointer. "Our mission is to blow past these vessels, land troops on the ground and overthrow this despot. The fleet will be providing cover on station for our troops on the ground. We have it on good authority that the ships will surrender once their leader had been deposed of." Looking around he grimaced once more and stood taller, "But that may not happen. Our fleet may have to duke it out against those ancient monsters in a prolonged fight. It is important that we are prepared, and that we protect our boots on the ground."

The map changed to a view of the bridge cities. "This is the ground teams objective. This city is where the despot Tal Komar lives. Reports indicate he has a meeting with his cabinet at this location." the Map zoomed in on a tower. "We cannot land there directly, and battalions of droid troops guard the perimeter." the map moved showing updated AA positions lining around the tower. "Ground teams are going to have to land on the far edge of the city, or the top of the bridge and rappel or slog through the city to get there." I know, but those are our marching orders." No one groaned but Cabbal felt the need to say it anyways. "It is vital that we complete our objective. Cato Neimoidia is a stranglehold on Republic Trade. Individual group commanders will be provided packets on their assignments."

 

[Jonathan Walsh]

Aboard the Preservation-Class Star Defender the Liberty
Admiral Walsh sighed...the breifing had been as any other... boring and long. He was so glad to be on his ship again.. he sat in his chair and looked out, He was leading this sorry excuse for an invasion, He didn't know why but he had been chosen. So he had a plan... He looked out on his tatical screen and snet out a comm. " This is Admiral Walsh, We are about to jump in on Cato Neomida. Please check in and set your coordinates. for the planet. " He said, wondering what would develop.. but first he needed to get their men on the gorund.. so they needed to hit hard and fast. That way they could maybe slip in at least a couple teams.
His ship was not the most discplined place but it the best of the best on board. " prepare for combat stations.. After the check in wer will be launching our attack"

 

[Kyrana Gould]

Stahlmann had listened to the briefing in silence. He had returned to his flagship Indomitable and meditated on events briefly. Finally, the order had been given.
"All ships on alert. You have received your orders. Prepare to jump to hyperspace on my mark."

His taskforce consisted of Star Defenders and many smaller ships. It was ironic really, when he had been training they had pitted students against the ancient Trade Federation ships in simulations, but now he was here about to fight them for real. This battle would be ferocious indeed.

"Begin."

The stars flew past him, and the fleet was on its way through hyperspace....

 

[Moira Skaldi]

Cato Neimoidia

Peace was a lie, life was strife, conflict between powers. The fittest were able to rise to the occasion and force their system upon their lessers, those that failed landed upon the ash heap of history. History was written by the winners, whose victory was all the moral justification they needed, at least until they too perished.

So the Republic had come to Cato Neimoidia to conquer it. Moira Skaldi was not one of those that needed a moral justification for this venture, she did not need to go through a lengthy process of rationalisation in order to convince herself that this act was righteous and noble. She preferred the Republic to the alternatives, it had its advantages, even with all the magi running around freely, and to further their power they had decided to make the planet bend to their will.

She was on the ground in one of the bridge cities, the one where the "despot" Tal Komar lived, trying to blot out the fact how high above ground she was. Sure these structures were supposed to be stable, but in due time this would turn into a war zone. Dressed in civilian clothes, her weapons hidden beneath a black duster, the Republic agent made her way to a hotel on the outskirts of the city, the agreed upon meeting place with a contact.

As she passed a large skyscraper she rolled her eyes at a large, oversized poster of Tal Komar, showing him as a benevolent father figure to the adoring masses. She knew all about such idolatry, as odd as it was to find it among merchants.

She passed lavish palaces and factories that even now churned out the machinery of war. Battle droids and drones were on patrol, here and there civilians were stopped at checkpoints, but she had the right papers.

She finally came to a halt in front of a cheap, rather run-down motel at the city outskirts. A security drone hovered above ground, its camera taking in the scenery, but confidently she stepped through the door. The reception area was deserted, aside from a few cheaply dressed Neimoidians playing cards, the smell of cigarettes and cheap alcohol was in the air. Neimoidians were a competitive species, not everyone became an economic bigwig.

"Here to see a friend," she said by way of greeting to the receptionist, discreetly slipping him a credit chit. Humans were rare on this world, but credits were an universal language everyone understood.

She took the lift to the third floor, then headed for one of the rooms, knocking quietly. Her hand was one her powered-up blaster pistol when the door slowly opened to reveal a rather frightened looking Neimoidian.

He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing her, he looked ill at ease in the cheap motel room. "Finally, you're here. What took you so long? I've been waiting here for ages!"

Actually just for a few minutes. A human and a Neimoidian appearing at the same would have been a tad suspicious, but Moira did not point that out. She smelt the whiff of alcohol coming from him and noticed the bottle of beer on the table, crinkling her nose in disapproval before quickly closing the door and gesturing for him to join her in the room.

"You're sure you weren't followed?" she asked calmly. "Our ruse worked and none of your colleagues noticed your absence?"

The Neimoidian sat down on a couch, which had seen better days and creaked a bit. "Well...no, no one followed me. My colleagues think I'm sick. I just want to get this over with. Meeting in dens of inquity like this, going against my..."

Moira held up her hand as if to stifle his speech. It's a bit too late for that now. "We'll live up to our end of the bargain. We erased your gambling debts, we arranged for your promotion. You'll be valued by the new order."

By framing his superior, a senior civil servant in the Neimoidian defence ministry, as a "Republic spy". It had been a delightully ironic episode. Just a small matter of transfering a large sum of credits to his account and faking a few holopics.

He remained nervous, but she could see the covet in his bulbuous eyes. Greed was a powerful motivator. "Now, you'll live up to your end."

He nodded his large head, then retrieved a suitcase, putting in the combination and handing her a datapad. "There, that's all I've got. All you need to know about planetary defences."

Moira immediately took the datapad and put it in her jacket pocket. "Good work," she said warmly, flashing him a small smile. "I'll leave through the window. You'll wait for half an hour before leaving. Have a meal at the bar, act normal, leer at the dancers. Then leave. Kardon will get you to the safe house."

The contact breathed in, now that he had crossed the Rubicon complaining about it would be a bit lame. It occured to Moira that now that he had passed on the intel, his immediate utility was at an end.

However...suddenly she turned around as she heard noise. The lift had come up again, she heard footsteps on the ground. "What? What is it?" the Neimoidian demanded fearfully.

She grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away from the door. In the same moment the door was blown open by a blast, pieces of it flying through the room. Reacting on instinct Moira dove for cover, landing behind the couch. Out of the smoke emerged several battle droids, unleashing a barrage of bolts with their blasters.

Her contact had been pulled down, but screamed out in pain as he was struck by a round. He had been given a small hold-out blaster, but was too paralysed to use it.

SR-26 Sub-Machine Gun in hand Moira stayed in cover, counting, then as the droids advanced she plucked an ion grenade free from her belt and tossed it into the fray, knocking some out, then dove out of cover and fired, unleashing a hail of blaster bolts of her own. Two droids were struck instantly, she whirled around to fire at another.

She kept up a steady rate of fire as she moved, tossing another grenade as she dashed for the bathroom. Her contact was lying on the ground, bleeding, then gasped his last breath when a ricochetting round struck him.

Moira slammed the door to the bathroom shut as she dashed in, incidentally knocking it straight into what passed for a droid's head. As the door was riddled with bolts, she opened the window, looking out and seeing an oak close to the building. In the same moment as the door was kicked down the agent jumped down, narrowly catching one of the tree branches, then climbing down. The air was lit up by red blasts.

 

[Akio Kahoshi]

Vice-Admiral Kahoshi had listened in silence to the briefing, his Atrisian uniform standing him apart from the others. Listening to the briefing he took the information with a grain of salt, propaganda was a concept he was not unfamiliar with. For his part, Akio always recognized that his opponent was no less than he was. Those that risked their lives to combat him were worth no less respect than those that fought next to him, which would not stop the Admiral from doing his job. It just meant he never underestimated his opponent.

Whether the reasons for this invasion were real, and whether they were justified, did not matter at all. The treaty he had signed bound him to the commands of Admiral Noir within the Republic. Besides, no Empire needed a reason to expand. The Atrisian Empire certainly never had. As for the ships they faced, they were numerous for a single planet. By itself no one planet should have been able to afford to build even one, but like Akio's ship this ships had been in service for a long time. The difference being, he hoped anyway, that his ships sported the most modern equipment and theirs did not.

Once he had returned to the Rancor he checked with his captains to make sure the five ships of the Atrisian Navy were ready for battle. They were. Shields were at full, weapons were charged, pilots were in their fighters, and his stormtroopers were ready to drop at the command. He had no idea how skilled the Republic Army was, but his stormtroopers were experts at exactly this type of operation. And they had over eight hundred years of tradition behind them in their training. This did not necessarily mean they were automatically superior to the Republic troops, but it left him confident they would prove their own once they got the chance.

Finally once everything was checked and rechecked, Akio activated the comm to his other ships. "Prepare to enter hyperspace. Let's prove that we're not just a backwater planet with delusions of grandeur. I want as tight a jump group as possible. Follow the flag's mark." They waited just a bit longer until the Republic ships began their jumps, and at once the five ships under his command activated their generators.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

On Cato Neimoidia

The information had been recovered. The death of her contact was unfortunate, but salvageable as a loss. Given how antsy he had been, there was a good chance that he might have cracked and been caught. His soul being on a one-way trip to his maker might've solved a problem. Far more problematic was the fact that droids had taken up position at the window and sending a hail of bolts that whizzed past her head.

As she ran, briefly turning to let some shots loose at her assailants, she could hear movement coming from the motel entrance, more security droids were rushing out to engage. A surveillance hovered above her and she quickly brought up her blaster and fired a few quick rounds to knock out its camera.

The agent stumbled as bolts streaked through the air, but quickly got up and kept running. A few civilians were out on the street, leaving a bar and fled in fear when they heard the shooting, Moira paid them no mind. She took a turn around a corner and, as she heard shouts and footsteps, thrust a dumpster open and jumped into it.

Taking a breath to regain her bearings she waited briefly, then opened the lid just a slit, peeking out. Droids were marching up the street, a drone was scanning, but they were not there yet.

Then she saw a speeder land in front of the bar, piloted by a Duros. In the same moment two droids came around the corner, carrying blaster rifles. Making a snap decision, Moira pushed the lid up when the machines were turning to scan the road, then moved out, sneaking on the ground, trying to stick to the shadows.

Alas, the Duros seemed to want to make things difficult by standing at his speeder and having a no doubt engaging conversation on his comm link. As a drone came closer, swooping down, Moira broke into a fast sprint. The Duros had just about enough time to turn and cry out before she pistol-whipped him, then kicked him in the solar plexis, bringing him down. A security guard, a human surprisingly, from the bar came rushing to her with a truncheon, she was driven back as he struck it across her face, but then blocked his next strike and hit him neatly in the jaw, grabbing her pistol to shoot him as he reeled. As he cried out to anyone that could hear him, she jumped into the speeder and powered up the engines. Sirens howled when the drone spotted her, the first blaster shots came her way, but pushing the skimmer to top speed, the engines roaring as she out into the sky.

As she surged upward, the bridge city beneath her, she accelerated. At this hour civilian traffic was thankfully sparse, especially since this was a less than prosperous district, but on the flip side it made it more difficult to escape. A few civilian speeders that were up in the air tried to move out of the way with great urgency when she shot past them.

One was not so lucky and crashed into a neon sign. Moira frowned as she shot past the wreckage. "Nikita," that was her code name for this assignment, "I have the data. Position compromised."

There was some static, then the response came through over her earpiece with a cackle. "Can you evade?"

"Small matter," she responded confidently with a small smile, a hail of laser bolts narrowly missed her skimmer as she swerved higher into the air to avoid the fire. Nonetheless the skimmer shook when it was struck. "I'll shake them off. We'll rendezvous. Out."

She accelerated further. Behind her a police speeder was pursuing, piloted by two security droids. Unlike hers it was armed with a light repeater. Moreover, blaster fire came from the ground from droids. Not particularly precise, but it was an annoyance. Kicking their speeder into gear, the droid roared after her.

She dodged and swerved, trying to avoid the bolts shooting her way. She wove between the large buildings, swinging the skimmer over on its side to cut close between corners, going very fast, but so were her pursuers.

Briefly she brought up her gun to shoot out a drone, then had the good sense to avoid an incoming freighter. She was entering a dense area of buildings and towers so speed had to be reduced. An annoying beeping sound on the computerised interface said something about damage sustained and fuel, not to mention that driving at this speed was contrary to the regulations of the Glorious Leader, whose will was law.

The robots followed her to the centimetre, pushing the engines for all they were worth and shooting. The skimmer rocked as a rounds came shooting towards it and she swerved sideways to the right, then narrowly spun the skimmer leftwards before it collided with a tower. A civilian speeder was less than lucky when it tried to dodge her, crashing into a skytaxi that in turn was sent flying into the wall of an apartment building. She moved higher into the air as bolts weaved through the sky and struck the tower. Another police speeder shot out, whether because it was pursuing her as well or just a standard patrol she could not tell, but she gripped the controls hard and dove down, seemingly in freefall before pulling up.

She took a breath. This was just the sort of swashbuckling excitement she would do well to avoid. After all, she did not have any superpowers! Nonetheless she could not feeling a certain thrill about it. Intrigue, danger, high stakes, it was glorious in a way.

Taking another turn at a warehouse, she thought she had shaken them off when she came under fire. A second police appeared to her right, a droid aimed a repeater her way, while the other one was surging at her from behind.

As the machines aimed and fired, Moira suddenly swung the skimmer around and made a sharp U-turn, suddenly doubling back and surging towards the speeder as if she wanted to ram it in the same moment as it steered towards her. She raced at great speed, her opponent pulled up slightly, then she gripped the controls and turned sideways just a few centimetres.

Briefly the sides of their speeders connected, her vehicle rocked violently, she felt a bolt graze her her left cheek, but nonetheless she shot past her attackers, pulling everything out of the suffering engines she could get at breakneck speed. The computer interface helpfully told her that fuel was running low, she surged and took a hard curve to the right.

Her attackers were evaded...at least for now. But then life was adjustment. You either managed or wound up being tread upon. The Gods helped those who helped themselves.

 

[Kyrana Gould]

@[member='Cabbal Noir']

While Moira's stealthy heroics took place below Admiral Stahlmann's fleet was ready to emerge from hyperspace. His fleet, the 2nd, would make the initial strike. The plan was for them to come straight on to trap their enemy against the planet's gravity well, with later fleets to come in from the flanks. Thus the enemy would be compressed between the attacking Republic forces and the planet's bulk.

"All crew, prepare for reversion...now," an officer called.
The ship jerked and emerged into realspace. The vast bulk of the planet could be already seen as they advanced forward in right formation. Soon the scanners were picking up the massive droid ships in orbit, and could see them scrambling to ready their forces.
"All ships, prepare to engage. Launch fighters and screen the capital ships, but do not attack yet." The Admiral stood at the front window...watching...waiting.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

On Cato Neimoidia - @[member="Cabbal Noir"], @[member="Friedrich Stahlmann"]

Moira had been fortunate enough to evade her pursuers after her series of not entirely stealthy heroics, which incidentally had resulted in some property damage. But then it was all for a noble cause! Well, not really, or at least Moira's motivations could probably not be called noble, but that was not the point.

Her speeder was badly damaged, smoke was coiling off it. There was a flash from beneath its hull, one of the repulsors had been struck. She managed to keep control as she turned across a warehouse but then it was descending at an alarming but still controllable level as she struggled to maintain control.

Her inevitable destination was the street in front of the garage of an old factory building. She managed to get one last burst out of it, avoiding the wall of the building. It clipped the top of a streetlight and tore into the street as it crashed to a halt. A metallic thud echoed across the street as she landed.

Somewhat dazed and staring suspiciously, Moira staggered out, looking around for a moment. No doubt her descent had been heard, but this was a largely abandoned district, she quickly started moving. The safe house was further away, but her adrenaline was moving into overdrive and kept her going.

Leaving the wrecked speeder she quickly disappeared into an alleyway. She could hear sirens howling, the security forces would be on their way soon. Heading quickly and quietly through several alleys and streets, hiding behind garbage cans when she thought patrols were there, she eventually happened upon an old apartment.

Retrieving a special key she opened the door and went inside. The room was pitch-black, no light was on. She passed through, heading towards the basement. As she entered two figures inside reached for their guns, stepping out of the shadows.

"Password?" one demanded, the other emerged from behind her, his blaster trained on the back of her head.

"Valkyrie," she said calmly. The two figures relaxed and lowered their weapons, gesturing her to follow down. At the click of a button a small lamp was turned on in the basement, revealing a chamber full of high tech equipment, monitoring devices and gadgets.

"Followed your little chase over the police radio. You know this is the real deal, not a holomovie," one of the agents, a Rodian dressed in civilian clothes, joked to her.

Moira shrugged. "I have a flair for the dramatic. Alas, I missed out on the teenage years. Now I need a secure channel to the fleet," she responded dryly, stepping towards the computer, clearly she was not one for smalltalk.

"Garan provided vital information, he could've been useful after liberation," the Rodian chided mildly, though Moira paid him no mind, working on the computer.

"He served the purpose we gave him. Now he's met his maker," Moira responded flatly, not really caring either way and typing in commands and then inserting the datapad. The tactical information on enemy planetary defences, which included the location of ion cannon, deployment of droid forces in the bridge cities and on the armaments of the repurposed Lucrehulk-class vessels should reach the fleet command.

Let the games begin. It was just a matter of time, such transmissions did not happen in the blink of an eye!

 

[Jack Rowland Clark]

Jack sat on his bridge, starring at cato nomodia, what a worthless bunch of slobs they were about to liberate. Oh well, he was here to win and nothing more. At least the 5th would be the second to engage. "prepare to scramble fighters, all ships power up armaments." Jack said almost uninterestedly. He had a complete confidence that his ship, The Spirit War , a Preservation capital ship and his fleet of two more Preservations, a carrier, 12 heavy cruisers and 18 frigates could bring the republic a decisive and swift victory.

 

[Davin Jusik]

Davin felt odd. Yet another planet to...... Liberate? He'd always been so sure in his convictions, killing for a democracy that claimed to be the light of the galaxy, helping to pull it out of a dark spell. But the truth.... What he'd seen. Power grabs, politicians, greed, and the death of so many innocents caught up in the Republic's grand adventures. What if these people didn't be freed?

What if they weren't even freeing them? Replacing another despot with another?

Is that freedom?

No.

He didn't even trust most of the Republic HighCom anymore, except for the General of the Armies of the Republic Jak Slign. The man had been in his shoes, knew what it felt like to kill someone when you had to look into their eyes.

Davin cleared his mind as the gunship dropped into atmosphere and the colors of the planet showed in all their brilliance through the viewpoints. First ones in, undetected but getting into position early. Him and twelve hand picked members of the 73rd exited the gunship in civilian clothing with weapons concealed. Wolves in sheep's clothing. They began unloading weapon emplacements disguised as food crates and would continue too until they received orders otherwise.

 

[Ben Watts]

Aboard the Teferi

Ben could not help but feel a little off about this whole thing as he was looking through the briefing papers. It seemed as if the Republic was exaggerating the odds a bit, but he understood why, he just did not know if he supported it or not. Sure, in theory, he was all for the plan. Getting Cato Neimoidia was a huge step for the Republic, a great way to cut off trade between warring factions. Whether he liked the idea, or not, this was happening and he could not go around questioning the leadership of the Galactic Republic, not now. His position on the Council put him under more scrutiny, but in a way, he liked it. He never considered himself much of a leader, but for whatever reason, everyone else did. While he would not have chosen himself for the job, others did, and he refused to let them down. Especially not Darron, who Ben had befriended over the past few weeks, it was nice to have a friend again. An equal who Ben did not have to lecture or a stern talking to.

Ben glanced up at the clock in the briefing room of the ship, Darron was still not present, he was getting a new forearm cybernetic after his latest fiasco. Ben took a moment to thank the force that he had never lost a limb in combat. Granted, he had gotten close, but he had been one of the lucky few to survive. It probably helped that Ben was much better at talking than he was at fighting. If at all possible, Ben would much rather defuse a situation with his words than with a blade, if no one was killed then it was a success. Sadly, these days, that was not so often the case. In his younger years, battling was his favorite thing, but as he grew older he felt there were much easier ways to solve problems.

The other Jedi would be arriving soon, so Ben closed out his holo pad, he had pretty much memorized it by now anyways. Almost as if on que, people began to file into the room, and Ben sat at the seat to the right of where Darron would be sitting. He still felt weird, he was so used to blending into the background, but now he was at the helm of everything. All eyes on him. "The Grand Master will be joining us soon," Ben stated as the Jedi began to fill the room. "Until then, you all are forced to be with me, so sorry about that." He smiled, making one of his classic and terrible jokes. One day, he would nail one, but he was sure that day was far off.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Lysander stood silent, garbed in the loose fitting apparel of a Jedi. His clothes were all light colors of creams, whites, and tans, symbolizing the man himself. One who strove for purity and honor. An emblem of light. His unusual eyes, one blue, one brown, ran over the assembled Jedi as Master Watts spoke. Lysander had not yet constructed a lightsaber. He wore a Death Hammer on his hip. The power of a rifle packed into a pistol. It would suffice. Yet, to wield a lightsaber.... glorious. Lysander had heard of the Jedi's prowess on the battlefield. They were veritable demigods. Unparalleled by any, even Mandalorians. The Force gave them their strength, as it gave Lysander his.

He waited patiently in the room. On Suarbi, he had led thousands. Here, he was but a padawan. Lysander was not so proud that he could not bend. He recognized greatness in others. Yet, in time, he believed his own would overshadow theirs. He would rinse the stars clean of pirates, Sith, and other ilk, searing his name into their memory with swords of war. His own philosophy was a bit more aggressive than other Jedi. He could survive it. After all, he was here only to learn so he could fulfill his ultimate goal. A resurrection of the Jensaarai. His ancestors.

Lysander's eyes danced merrily as a slight smile turned his mouth upward. Master Watts' attempt at humor was horrendous, but still worthy of mirth. None ever said Lysander of Suarbi was not merry.

 

[Darron Wraith]

The Teferi

"There sir, the prosthetic is finished."

"Are you sure it will hold up against electromagnetic pulses and such? I can't have it fail me in battle like the last one did, i'm good....but not that good."

"Yes sir, the new limb is every bit as mobile as the last one, and we did install the safeguards you asked for."

The GrandMaster of the Jedi Order regarded the new prosthetic hand and forearm for just a moment in the shining light of the med-bay. It's silver and gold surface was a marvel of technology to him, and he had had a few of these. The first had been an archaic model that resembled a golden skeleton, this one was good and complete. It was as thick as his hand of flesh, and it had been fitted with armor to protect it in battle. While he would still wear a glove over it, the servos inside didn't require it. In fact, this new model was water proof, and could with stand a great deal of attacks from what he could tell. As he moved his new hand around for a moment, he wiggled all of his fingers and double checked that all of the joints worked properly. Even though he had spent the past hour getting the systems calibrated, he had to make sure nothing was off. Being a master of the lightsaber meant nothing if one of his hands wasn't up to par, so it was of the utmost importance that it worked.

Standing to his full height, he adjusted his breastplate and the lone greave he was wearing on his hand of flesh for a moment. Seeing that it was fitted properly, he grabbed on of his electrum plated lightsabers with his new hand and activated the blade. A snap-hiss filled the air, and a smile briefly crossed his face as everyone in the room backed away from their leader. "Lets hope this works." With that, he began to move through the pattern of Vaapad, and his new hand held up beautifully. After going through a few more basic strikes, he deactivated the blade and clipped it to his belt. "Thank you for your exceptional work, I am in your debt." Sliding his leather glove over his new prosthetic, he buckled it in place while grabbing his remaining cortosis greave while making his way to leave the room. A voice echoed through the room as he left the threshold.

"No sir, thank you for what you did during the Omni Crisis."

Darron turned and bowed once more before heading down the hall to the briefing room. His boots echoed through the halls as he realized he was late to his own meeting. Way to go Wraith, I'm sure this will look good on your part. He mentally chided himself as he buckled the greave into place as he walked into the room. Every Jedi immediately stood to bow, but he just waved them off. "There's no need for that, I'm at fault for being late. Please sit everyone." The sounds of many people rustling to get seated echoed throughout the room as he made his way to Jedi Master Ben Watts, a man who was quickly becoming a trusted friend to him.

"Good to see you friend, and they aren't stuck with you. You're an amazing Jedi in your own right my friend." The GrandMaster extended his new hand and took Ben's forearm in a warrior's handshake while patting him on the back with his other hand. Darron released his grip before turning to address those seated before him.

"Okay, you all know which teams you are on. We all know our orders, the Republic is coming to liberate Cato Neimodia." The Jedi motioned to a highlighted area near the atmosphere of the trade federation world. "Right here is where we will send the ground teams out before engaging with the fleet, it's time the Teferi got to fight something besides those skirmishes with Omni's fleet." He began to pace a little as the holo-display moved to the next objective.

"They have three of these ancient ships, they are all from before the clone wars. The Republic wants to capture one, so I and Ben Watts, and my personal guard Seroth Ur-Rahn and Jedi Knight Jaxton Ravos will take the vessel. The Teferi will engage all other opponents while deploying forces where necessary. Are we clear?" The GrandMaster walked to stand next to his fellow Jedi Master for a moment as he gave the assembled Jedi a moment to go over their orders. As a few began to get up and leave, Darron held his hand up to make them wait.

"I have one more announcement to make, we have a new Council Member, and officially my second in command....Jedi Master Ben Watts." Darron turned and smiled while allowing everyone to applaud the new council member for a moment before they all set out to leave. Darron stood near Ben, as he was sure there would be some joke made about it all. The Jedi Master also knew that Seroth and Jaxton had to make their way through the group to get to the pair of Masters, so he waited. All the while, the Teferi flew towards her objectives.

@[member="Ben Watts"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

 

[Padak Arciso]

Padak listened to the orders of Grandmaster Wraith, his teacher and friend. He watched intently as the battle plan was drawn up. Taking deep breaths, Padak felt the Force flow through and around him, calming and readying himself for battle. His blue saber hilt hung at his belt, ready to defend him and if need be, kill. He felt the Force flowing through the other assembled Jedi on the Teferi. It was a magnificent ship, fit for its namesake. After @[member="Darron Wraith"] finished speaking and showing the battle plan, he sent a quick telepathic message. He wasn't the best at this skill, but he could reliably get the gist of a message across.

"Master, I wish to join your team, if that is OK with you."

 

[The Hound]

"So, how about you and I hit a cantina once we get back to Kuat? Eh? My treat." Only Turin would be trying to get a date while on duty in the middle of a battle. But hey, why not? She was a pilot, a pretty damn good looking one at that, they could talk shop, have a few drinks, and let the night take them where it did. It would be a fun getaway from all this noise and confusion. Especially since now he had his little problem taken care of. But of course, just like all the rest she playfully brushed him off as she walked away to get into her fighter. He couldn't help himself. He watched as her small frame walked, to him, in slow motion, drinking it all in. A smack to the head from a Captain fixed all that though and he headed to his own fighter. Okay, so maybe flirting with one of your wingmen wasn't the best idea before a battle but what the hell? He was young!

Launching in his GN Throne, he left the saftey of the Star Defender he had been docked in with a small team, just two wingmen and joined the fray. Personally he felt like he got more done when he was alone, but the duties of being an Officer, a Lieutenant now, called..."Alright, Alright this is ATA 1, holler if you guys can hear me!" a com check, something that should have been done before take-off. "Check." "Roger." The responces were in. "Alright boys, you heard the man!" "Ahem!" Turin rolled his eyes. "Boys and Girls." he corrected himself. "We are not engaging the enemy unless they attack first we are screening!" Affirmatives came from both pilots as they zoomed through the black emptiness of space, the sound of the three fighters creating a sort of soothing sound for him. Hopefully this didn't turn into a full on battle.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

On Cato Neimoidia

The data was being transmitted to the Republic Fleet when suddenly a light on computer console started to glow, indicating that a government broadcast was being intercepted.

"Transmission incoming, from the Neimoidian Broadcasting Station, patching it through," the third agent in the group, a youngish looking human male announced.

Within moments the green-skinned, noseless shape of a Neimoidian, with a small lump on its forehead, appeared as a holographic projection, dressed in elegant red robes and wearing a lapel that showed the image of Tal Komar, the Supreme Leader of Cato Neimoidia. As the transmission came from a broadcasting studio, a life-sized portrat of the leader could be recognised on the wall behind the spokesman, though the image flickered slightly.

"Good welcome, citizens, the hour is dire, our indepence is at stake," the broadcaster announced gravely, Moira recognise him as the deputy minister of information. "Our nation has only ever wished to live in peace and enjoy fruitful commercial relations. Where others come to foreign worlds to conquer by the sword, our merchants have shared the benefits of civilisation and promoted peaceful trade. The imperialist Republic, not content with enslaving world after world, has invaded our space. Months ago our National Council passed an act to levy a small fee on any starship that travelled through our system. This money would have gone to advancing our world, enabling our people to take their rightful place and stay independent."

The voice took on a note outrage. "But the Republic aggressors would deny us even the right to make our own laws. They speak of civil rights and liberty, but they are dominated by humans and where a world does not bend to them, they invade, create a wasteland and call it peace. Our Government has declared martial law across the planet, we are at war. Rest assured, our droid forces will repel the invaders. They think us decadent profiteers, but they come here to shed blood. They think that they have allies among us, but we shall ruthlessly with any fifth column."

When one thought about it, he did have a reasonable case, but Moira stayed stoic. She had been a revolutionary, a space pirate who preyed on the weak and sold them on the markets, now a Republic agent. She was not about to get moralistic because the alien was complaining about the inevitable conquest of his homeworld. They'e evolution's losers, she thought to herself.

The image flickered slightly, there was static, then the connection was cut. "Arrogant slime, our boys have come here all this way to liberate them and introduce democracy. Without us they'll fall to the Sith," the human agent declared, looking irritated.

Moira shot him a look of the 'are you for real' variety. If quoting slogans makes you sleep easier at night. We believed the same nonsense on Artam, she thought. "War isn't about who's right, it's about who's left. Moralism has no place in it. Don't be surprised if today's 'liberated' suddenly think you're the oppressor tomorrow."
Then she was all business again. "Run the interception programme. Check the security police's frequency for fifth column references," blue eyes turned back to the Rodian agent.

The Rodian typed in commands on the computer, working through a series of intercepted messages, among them deployment orders for the droid forces, orders for senior government personnel to take shelter in the command bunker...finally he gave them a thumbs-up and a voice resonated through the warehouse.

"Case 18B in effect...," there was some static, then a crackle of sound before the transmission continued. The voice had was a dull, mechanical monotone, most likely that of a droid commander. "Our man has located the Arch-Traitor. Operatives moving into..."

Then the connection died abruptly. 18B was the emergency order to eliminate or intern suspected traitors in the expectation of invasion. Moira's mind immediately drifted to the Republic's ally in this noble venture.

"Tan Weedin. Open a channel to command," she ordered, immediately typing up a message. "Hostile forces have located Priority Friendly Number One. Suspect a double agent. They are closing in. Friendly forces will be insufficient to hold out. Advise rapid intervention if possible and request aid."

While this happened the Rodian technician quickly sent a message to their contact in the opposition. Hopefully it would get their in time, by a rule they only communicated when absolutely necessary, given that messages could be intercepted.
Tan Weedin, the opposition leader of the New Dawn Party, was hiding in the northwestern bridge city. While he had gathered a certain following among the Neimoidians and his own force of droids, it was insufficient to seize power without Republic support or withstand an assault of military droids. The security forces had been trying to pinpoint his location for weeks. Either way the Republic would assume control, but Weedin being alive to serve as a figurehead would be useful to enhance the legitimacy of the annexation. Of course, they could spin a good yarn about him dying a martyr for liberty.

The message would be transmitted to fleet command, in effect @[member="Cabbal Noir"] and by extension to @[member="Friedrich Stahlmann"] and @[member="Akio Kahoshi"] etc.

As the message was sent Moira turned to her two companions."Plot the fastest route to his hideout. Make sure the navi actually works this time! Do we have any assets on the planet?"

Need to know basis dictated that Moira only knew what was needed for the mission. Thus, if she were captured for instance, she would not be able to spill the beans about another Republic team should she break under interrogation.

"It does work. It can't be blamed if your wild driving takes you off course!" the Rodian retorted with a small smirk.

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Cabbal stood on the Bridge of his Salvation class Star Destroyer. The fleet had jumped out of hyperspace in good order and was forming up. A second wave would jump out along either flank of the enemy fleet now moving to engage the main group. It was, on paper, a perfect plan. Cabbal didn't tread on paper though, that was a job for someone else. The Admiral dealt with the realities of combat, and reality was plans rarely survived contact with the enemy. In the minds of many military thinkers, it was better to have a vague plan, set goals and objectives and adapt to situations as they arrive. Many military forces have been defeated because of strict adherence to battle plans. As the fleet started toward the planet a message came in on the secret bands. Cabbal smiled. @[member="Moira Skaldi"] was a reliable agent. "Bring those locations on the map, and transmit to the fleet."

He examined the data as it was displayed. "And tell the fleet to close with those capitol ships as soon as possible." It was too late. The planetary ion cannon fired into the sky lighting up the void of space. One ship was struck and veered away. "Send those coordinates to the ground troops. In order for the navy to support their movements, medevac and retrieve them we need that gun taken offline." Suddenly a cloud of old droid starfighters filled his view. They were ancient, but what they lacked in strength and technology they made up for in sheer weight of numbers. He braced as his ship closed with one of the old hulks.

"Brace yourselves." The order came as the two ships exchanged weapons fire. Cabbal gripped a console held on as the vessel rocked from the blows. Playing out between the ships was a dazzling display of deadly lights. "Flight officer," he called, "I want you to break off a squadron of fighters from the main battle to support the soldiers attacking that Ion Cannon. Order them to find targets of opportunity and cover our ground teams."

"Yes sir."

Biting his lower lips Cabbal worried about those on the ground. There was no time however. A second Neimoidian ship was approaching his position. They knew his was the command vessel. He smirked, cutting off the head wouldn't work here. There was a chain of command. Nonetheless he didn't want to die. "Have two cruisers screen our starboard side and pull our fighter screen closer to the supporting fire of the task force." If they wanted a slugging match his vessel was the best positioned to give them one.

 

[Seydon of Arda]

There was some... unsaid obscenity to this coming operation. One youth, shoulders pressed to the briefing chambers rotund circumferencing bulkheads, passed his grey stare across the central holofield projection. Every few moments, side-bars of intricate font blinked, revised, scrolled along and then repeated the process. Naval officers in charge of keeping abreast of every new piece of inloading data were engaged, he surmised, in constant, consistent minute-by-minute updates. A task requiring tantamount mental agility and tactile dexterity, something Seroth Ur-Rahn took to heart in respecting. Yet still... Cato Neimoidia, as he reckoned from private study, barely fit any criteria demanding a Naval intervention. That the Senate called upon their Jedi allies for their tacit participation in this politicking exercise brought a gorge to the youth's throat.

Yet doubt was as able a mind-killer as pain, or fear. All were unbecoming. Seroth cantered his faculties through a brief calming exercise, starkly attentitive. Here. Now. Clothed in his usual attire of forest green tunic, black slacks, hide-gloves and a taut combat harness strapped across his steely waist. Rumination and meditation would come later. For now, he had Master Darron's confidence upon his shoulders and he'd be deeply loathed to betray that implicit trust. At his companion's call, the newly christened Jedi Knight strolled through the rank and file and took up an easy stance next to the venerable Grandmaster. Save for the tense energy kindling in his gaze, the boy seemed composed, relaxed, and perfectly readied. By habit, his gloved hands rested upon the unaddorned hilts of his favoured blades.

"Well..." He said softly. "Now's the eleventh hour, Master. I wager it'll be a long day."

@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

"It might be long, but we'll be fine." Jaxton said and patted the back of @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]. "I'm sure the four of us can handle whatever's on that old ship." He finished reassuringly. "Besides, if anybody tries to shoot, they'll go for the biggest target first, which'll be me, then the Grandmaster, then you. So even if I go down quick Master Wraith'll have you covered for a while." Jaxton joked. Jaxton didn't know why, but today felt like a good day, and no mission to Cato Nemoida was going to ruin it for him.

"How long until launch masters?" Jaxton said to the Grandmaster @[member="Darron Wraith"] and his comrad @[member="Ben Watts"].

 

[Ben Watts]

Once Darron entered the room, they both embraced in the warrior handshake, and Ben nodded his head when he acknowledged he was a friend. It was strange, Ben had been a member of the Jedi Order his entire life, and he had only met one other person he considered a friend. It was the man who trained him, and he had not heard his voice in years, he was sorely missed by Ben but there was nothing to be done about it now. As Darron went over everything, Ben thought about how they were going to actually get onto the ship, and a feeling of excitement/dread washed over him. Excitement from the fact that the way they were doing it was going to be cool, but dread from the fact that the mission could go wrong so easily. One little miscalculation and they would be lost in space forever, an idea that Ben was not all to fond of, but those were thoughts for other days.

"Everyone can congratulate and give me my gifts after we complete this," Ben said once Darron introduced him as the newest Council member, and second in charge. He stood up from his seat once the meeting was coming to an end and readied his mind for the ensuing fun. "For now, make it back to this ship alive, and may the force be with all of you." He nodded his head and approached the two Knights who would be accompanying them on this mission. "We launch as soon as we get ready." Ben motioned for the two of them to follow him, Darron would already know where to go. "We get to wear these nifty space suits that will keep us alive while out in space. Now, do not alter your course for any reason, even the tiniest adjustment could throw you off course. I don't want our first mission together to end up with one of us splattered on the outside of some ancient ship." Stripping off his Jedi robe, Ben began to put on the suit that they would all be wearing, signalling for the other two to do the same.

"Yours is probably going to be a tight squeeze Jaxton." Ben smirked, he had searched and searched for the biggest suit they had, but he did not have much success. It would work, but it was going to be quite hilarious seeing the Zeltron fit into it. "Any questions before we go on the big ride?"